W\\CKED

Illusions of Loa

[Sanny]

When Kaydrien dropped me off after school on Monday, the Vodou Bohique was closed. This wasn't unusual; Abadai often indulged in creative impulses, even during official store hours. I felt under the sill of the display window for the key she left there. She never used a key pad or a camera for security, as she didn't trust them not to be hacked.

The clothing racks had been shoved aside to make room for cans of paint, which sat on yards of canvas laid out to protect the floor. The mural on one wall was in the middle of being painted over. A Renaissance-style rendition of two armies bleeding to death as they hacked off each other's body parts was being replaced by a dark, swirling backdrop against which pale figures danced and drank and worshipped some deity who at the moment was nothing more that a skeletal hand reaching down from some realm not yet furnished by the artist's imaginative brush.

"Step carefully; there are wet spatters everywhere." Abadai swayed toward me in a tube top and faded sweatpants, a scarf keeping her dreads in check. "If you're hoping to work on the dress today, it'll have to wait."

"No rush. We still have time." The dress we were making together was the only part of my quinces I was looking forward to. "I'm here for another reason."

She handed me a brush. "Care to contribute?"

"Any rules?"

"What you create should feel like it belongs with what is already there."

I chose a circle of dancers and began to paint what vaguely looked like a bonfire at the center of their revels.

"How did the Halloween costumes fare?"

"Best on the beach." I made a face. "One guy couldn't keep his hands off Juliet." 

"Don't push so hard into the brush." Abadai covered my hand with hers, guiding my next stroke. "So this jerk who couldn't keep his hands to himself..." She waited for me to fill in the rest. 

I loved her in that moment. She was the only adult who showed genuine interest in my life. Unlike Mama, who was too busy raising a whole brood, or my ex-dad, who wasn't there for me even before he left us. 

I told her everything about the night on the beach. When I got to the part about "Hoodie Guy" (as I called him in my own head), she set down her brush. 

"Are you sure he wore the eye of fire?" 

"Pretty sure." I hesitated before asking: "Do you ever sew vévés onto the clothes you sell?"

She looked at me like I'd lost my brain. I admit, I got that look from her a lot.

"My family's vévés summon powerful and dangerous loa. My mother's spirit would ride me to an early grave if I was fool enough to use them as a fashion statement."

"I didn't mean any offense. I didn't think anyone outside your family knew about the op'a loa."

"The op'a are more particular about who serves them than most loa; the chances they would call an outsider into their service are extremely low."

"I'm an outsider; you said the loa brought me to Old Green to be your apprentice. Maybe they brought Hoodie Guy here, too."

She looked amused. "Are you starting to believe in loa?"

"No! Just following your own line of reasoning."

She lowered her brush. "There's another possibility. The eye on his jacket could have been a vision. You may have seen it because the loa wanted to warn you of danger."

"Like the 'vision' I had when I was twelve and delusional from lack of sleep?"

She looked bemused. "I've never known anyone who was so skeptical of a belief system and yet so dedicated to it."

"I want to believe I can call on powerful spirits to protect people I care about. I just don't see how they can be real."

"The loa have yet to show you proof of their existence, probably because if one appeared before you in all its magnificence, you'd roll your eyes at it."

I laughed. "It would have to do something damned amazing to convince me it wasn't a projection."

The window at the front of the store rattled. My little brother Marc was outside, playfully banging both palms against the surface. Teresa jumped up and down next to him, laughing. Behind them, Nameless sat on the hood of his grandmother's ancient Cadillac, tapping on his phone.

A moment later, my phone rang.

I answered it. "What are you doing here?"

Nameless leaned back on one arm. "You need a ride."

"I told you I'd walk home."

"Now you don't have to."

My gratitude spilled into a grin. "I'll be there in a sec."

"Related to you?" Abadai asked, nodding at Marc.

"Unfortunately."

Abadai moved to the window. She walked as if the weight of a ceremonial robe lay heavy on her shoulders, leaving the impression of a magnificent goddess descending to Earth. In sweats, no less.

Marc stared up at her through the glass, mouth wide as it could go. Her eyelids rose in response, pupils constricting almost to pinpoints against the light of the late afternoon sun. It made her look fierce as a panther. My brother inched away from the window.

"How I wish I could take you home with me," I muttered in awe.

"Tomorrow, we'll work on the dress."

"I can't come this week. Maybe Saturday?"

"I should be able to make time for you. Call before you show up," she said before she disappeared into the back room.