Voodoo Kiss

Chapter 4



After a brief lunch, I was keen to return to the solitude of our hotel rooms to catch some sleep, but Gael seemed to have other plans.

"Where are we going?" I asked for the umpteenth time.

"You'll see." His eyes twinkled mischievously. I smiled, pretending to be excited, and commented on the beauty of the town. Truth was, I didn't feel excited in the least. I actually feared secrets because they made me feel like I was opening Pandora's box. I appreciated Gael's efforts and I knew he meant well, but as much as I tried, I felt so disconnected from him. Since the airport, my mind seemed preoccupied and distant, and I couldn’t help myself.

The vehicle raced through the busy streets, past crowds of people gathered in front of dilapidated taverns. Eventually, the vehicle took another right turn onto unpaved terrain, leaving the city behind.

Looking out of the window, I saw people, dressed in barely more than rags, their faces worn out and tired. The houses we passed by were huts made of what looked like cardboard boxes. In front of them, children played and laughed the way only children can. My throat tightened as I watched all these people struggling with poverty, mothers holding their babies in their arms in sanitary conditions not fit for a newborn, children with no future. A sense of hopelessness crept over me. The children reminded me of my own childhood far away from the luxury of Western civilization. Life had been hard for my family, but we made the most of it. We appreciated the simple things: our family, our friends, and that we had so much to be thankful for. I remembered how we used to snuggle together under a thin sheet when the Russian winter covered the vast lands in a white blanket that could freeze a grown man to death within a few hours. And every spring we were grateful to have survived.

The driver stopped to ask for directions and motioned a kid to come closer. The child obeyed and approached us, unaware of the danger that might be lurking in a stranger's vehicle. At the boy's sight, barely older than ten with dark curls and torn shorts, something broke inside me. I wiped a tear from the corner of my eye, hoping Gael wouldn't notice, and reached into my purse for money.

"What are you doing?" Gael hissed.

I ignored him as I rolled down the window and handed the kid a few banknotes, watching his eyes widen for a moment before his hand clasped around the money. He said something, which I interpreted as a thank you.

Gael grabbed my arm tightly that it hurt a little, forcing me to face him. "What's wrong with you? Don't do that ever again. You can't just walk in here and advertise how rich you are, unless you don't mind a bullet through your head."

I pulled my arm away, irritated, anger rising inside me. He was right, of course, and yet deep in my heart I couldn't care less. Gael knew nothing about poverty, but I had experienced it first hand, so he could just shut up.

The car sped off again.

"Look, I'm sorry," Gael whispered in my ear. It's all about your safety. I couldn't live with myself if something happened to you."

"I'm old enough to know what I should or shouldn't do."

He nodded, and a glint appeared again in his eyes, flickering like a candle flame and disappearing a second later. We drove in silence for another five minutes, up what looked like a tiny hill with wilted grass and garbage to either side. The car stopped again, this time in front of a hut larger than the ones we had passed. Even though there were other houses around, the area looked less crowded with front yards and tiny fences barely reaching my knees. A stray chicken jumped on top of the front car hood, not minding us as we got out. I could hear pigs squealing and a horse neighing, and figured this must be some sort of ranch.

My sandals sank into a hard layer of dirt as I looked around. In spite of all the dust and the garbage lining the street, the yard looked clean with a stony path leading to a cottage with whitewashed walls and dried herbs hanging from the windowsills. Colorful ribbons hanging from the branches of a thin tree swayed in a soft breeze. Gael grabbed my hand and pulled me behind him as he whispered, "Come on."

I followed even though uneasiness settled in the pit of my stomach, making me gasp for air. As we took slow steps down the path, sweat gathered on my forehead and poured down my back. I raised my hand to wipe my brows when I noticed a crow circling the sky and landing on one of the branches. Slowly, the crow was starting to creep me out, not least because I knew it was one and the same bird. But how could a crow follow me from New York to Rio? It didn't make any sense. I stopped in mid-stride and peered up at its magnificent black wings and beady eyes. The animal's beak opened as though to speak to me.

"We don't have time for admiring the wildlife," Gael said, tugging at my arm. I nodded and let him drag me away and through the door into the hut.

From inside, the room seemed quite spacious with fur covering the bare ground. The air smelled of dried herbs and incense. To the right was a stone lined hearth with a large cooking pan and a mattress set up in front of it. To the left, an old woman, clad in a white summer dress reaching down to her ankles, sat at a kitchen table, bowed over a large bucket, cutting string beans. She stood as she saw us and wiped her hands on her dress. Her skinny body moved with surprising agility and grace. Her eyes, framed by countless wrinkles, met mine, and for a moment I forgot to breathe. Her piercing gaze bore into mine, reaching deep inside my soul like claws. I stumbled backward, fighting the invading sensation of something searching through the layers of my emotions, laying bare the secrets I had been trying to hide from both myself and those around me.

"Madame Estevaz," Gael said, reaching out his hand. She ignored it as she continued to stare at me. The feeling of uneasiness inside my stomach intensified.

"This is the girl?" she asked in broken English.

"Yes," Gael said.

"Hm." She drew closer and placed a hand on my forehead, then pointed to the mattress. I glanced at Gael. When he nodded reassuringly, I followed Madame Estevaz to the hearth. After some resistance, I gave in to Gael's persistent request and lay down on the mattress.

"Wait outside," Madame Estevaz said to Gael.

He shook his head. "I need to be present. Surely you understand."

The old woman's mouth pressed into a tight line, but she kept quiet as she grabbed a brown pot with what looked like dried bones, and started spreading them around me. I eyed them, disgusted.

"What's this about?" I asked. What did Gael have in mind? I trusted him, but the whole situation was too macabre for my taste. In my head, I recalled all the reasons why I hated surprises.

"She's about to find out your future," Gael said.

I raised my chin defiantly, ready to jump up and make a run for the nearest exit. "I don't want anyone to tell me my future."

"We came all the way for this. I thought you'd appreciate it," Gael said. The glint from before returned, and for a brief second I thought I saw something dark in his eyes, just like that afternoon when he startled me. My temper flared. I shook my head, wondering what was wrong with me. First the hallucinations, now my inability to control myself. I lay on my back and nodded at Madame Estevaz, ignoring the nagging voice at the back of my mind.

"Close your eyes and relax. Don't fight it," Gael said softly.

My heart started to hammer against my ribcage as I closed my eyes, letting the darkness, which had been beckoning to me for a while, engulf me. Madame Estevaz called out in her native tongue. A second later, loud drumming echoed through the air. I opened my eyes when something soft covered my face. It was a black scarf that barely filtered the daylight. I was glad to find I could see through the thin material.

Madame Estevaz began to hum next to me. Her soft murmur grew louder and seemed to accompany the tiny drum in her hand. Her words were sharp, hurting my ears even though I had no idea what they meant. The mattress began to shift to the left and right like a boat floating on water. Something moved across my skin; cold iron fingers grabbed hold of my arms and clasped tightly. Fear rose inside me. This didn't feel right. I scanned the air frantically, but I couldn’t see anything that might have touched me.

Gael. My mouth opened, but no sound found its way out of my throat. I peered down at my naked arms where the skin looked pushed in as though invisible fingers were pressing down on my limbs. Coldness climbed up my chest and built a shield around my heart.

And then the pain began, cutting through me like an arrow. Long pangs of it that made breathing impossible. The voice in my head screamed louder than Madame Estevaz's incantations. Another rush of pain rushed through me, and my body went into spasms. I felt my eyes roll back in their sockets. Something emerged beside me, and I knew instantly it was no mortal, nothing I had ever seen. Please. My mind was barely able to form the words, imploring the creature to go away and leave me alone, but I knew if it could hear me it wouldn't listen. The cold sensation around my heart grew stronger, reminding me of thousands of ice picks piercing my skin. I was so cold and yet my body was burning. A thin sheen of sweat covered me, soaking my skimpy clothes. Panic rose inside me. I had never been so scared in my life.

Outside, the crow cawed, warning me. When the pain hit again, I clenched my teeth, ready to wait it out. But this time it didn't stop. For a long time, all I could feel were coldness and a horrible agony that wouldn't ebb.