Voodoo Novel
an excerpt

Shaking her head in wonder at the wily ways of outsiders, Magdalena made her way down the path to the mangrove forest. She knew she would find Alea with the small children, picking the oysters from their salty homes in the exposed roots of the mangroves. Keeping an eye on the sky in case Oya decided to make her presence known, Maggie hurried. Of course the littles watched out for Alea, but they couldn’t do anything about the snakes which lived in the water, working their way down the river through the roots as the tide went out, never mistaking an ankle for more than a root, but sometimes assuming that little wiggling toes were for snacking. Maggie frowned, then jumped – she had startled a nesting willet and the bird took wing inches from her, a bad omen for sure. She promised Papa Legba she would feed him kola nuts at the next full moon, if he would protect Alea from the hungry black snake. Papa Legba, cloud the river snake’s eyes, let Simbi Makaya not notice my sweet sister this day, she prayed.
The pressure of the brightest sun began to soften, even as the air held on to the noonday heat. She bent down to scoop water over her head, wetting her headscarf and cleansing away the thoughts of the river snakes. She relaxed to a slower walk, chewing the tobacco leaf and enjoying the memory of the exotic stranger. He wouldn’t have found a woman yet, because if some woman were already full in the belly with his child, she wouldn’t be letting him wander off to strange towns on “business.” She’d never heard of an Inspector before – she wondered what else they had invented, those fancy folk from Port-au-Prince. Christophe would tell her…
She frowned. For a moment there, she had forgotten that Christophe was dead. Never again to see his smooth lanky arms as he rowed in to shore, never to watch the muscles of his back as he lifted his catch from the boat, never to share a supper with him, the smell of roasting snapper mixing with the taste of the rum and his mouth. She yanked a vine off one of the mango trees and peeled it fiercely, wrapping it around and around until she had a basket for Alea’s oysters.
At last the river opened out into the bay, and she found the children up to their waists in the water, their little bodies glowing with the sheen of sun reflecting on water. Alea was among them, gazing intently at an oyster she held up near her eyes. Then, to her dismay, Maggie noticed a growing pile of oysters stacked on the hummock between the nearest trees.
“Ai,” she said, “you don’t keep them out of the water, children! They die up on the land, don’t you know? They shrivel into nothing. I’ve told you this before, silly Delia. Margaux, how could you forget? Here, Tienne, take this basket, help Alea, we must hurry to get them home before they spoil!”
Scolding gently, Maggie made more baskets for the children and together they brought their harvest up from the river mouth to the town wharf. At the market space, the children scattered, each carrying their loot to their own homes, to add a little to the family dinner. Magdalena was left alone with Alea as the shadows grew long across the square. She admired the way the dusky light played up the creamy planes of her half-sister’s face, giving her an illusion of intensity at odds with her placid stare.
“How are you, sweetie? Did you enjoy the oysters today?” she asked, brushing hair from Alea’s face, tucking it into her headscarf. Frowning, she saw that it was time again to make her a new dress – Alea was starting to fill out in front, and if Magdalena didn’t make a larger dress soon, men would be noticing. Before long, men would be noticing no matter how Magdalena clothed her. Papa Legba, please keep my sister safe from all black snakes, she prayed, but in her heart she didn’t think Papa Legba would answer this prayer.
Alea was humming gently, and she smiled that sweet smile at Maggie, and took her hand. Together they walked up the hill, Maggie balancing the basket of oysters on her head.