Curiosity

Lula’s Magick

My grandfather always used to say, “Flying that close to the sun is never safe.” 

He was known as the superstitious one of the family, so no one ever really listened to him.

My mom was the only one who took his warnings to heart.

She, too, had her wild beliefs.

Mom never sat her purse on the floor.

“It would lead to you being broke.” She’d say.

You couldn’t convince her that gambling and drinking cases of Milwaukee’s Best were the actual reasons she stayed broke.

We all loved listening to grandfather’s tales.

Last week he told my cousins and me about Cherelle, a girl he used to have a crush on.

Cherelle and grandpa both grew up in the deep south, a small town in Mississippi called Lula.

The residents of Lula, Mississippi, were prideful though they were few.

Like most who come from a small town, Cherelle had big city dreams.

She wanted to move up north to Chicago and go to law school.

To live in the big house and drive luxury cars just like in the movies she grew up watching on tv.

Cherelle started taking odd jobs to save up the money for a ticket on the greyhound bus.

She was sometimes working three jobs but having to help her family survive kept it challenging to do this.

Grandpa said that one day while walking home from the local diner, Cherelle told him about a lady she had met.

This lady came from Haiti and had asked Cherelle if she was ever curious about magick?

“Magick is how I got over here to America from Haiti safely,” the lady told Cherelle.

Grandpa knew right away that Hoodoo was at play here and warned Cherelle against it.

He was no stranger to its power.

Many nights grandpa sat watching his mother cast spells with potions she concocted using herbs from her garden.

“Mama became so consumed in her spells that she forgot about us.” we could hear the cracking in grandpa’s voice. “One day, she too met a lady promising higher teachings who lured her into the forests for special herbs, and mama never came back.”

There were rumors around town that the Ku Klux Klan got her, but grandpa was never the same and hated magick because of it.

The lady told Cherelle that something as simple as a spell could give her everything she needed to leave Lula.

All she had to do was visit her during the witching hour, and she’d be ready to help her.

Before she went to see the lady, Cherelle stopped by to see grandpa.

She tried convincing him to come with her.

Tales of them leaving Lula, Mississippi, behind to make a better life for themselves.

Grandpa says he wished he had the strength to go with her—to protect the woman he loved.

But to put out the fire of that hopeful little girl he saw in her eyes would break his heart.

So that night when they kissed, Cherelle promised that she wouldn’t leave town without saying goodbye!

Grandpa said no one heard from or saw Cherelle again.

He went to the nearest Greyhound Bus station with a polaroid of her to learn that no one there had seen her.

Walking home, he passed the woods that claimed his mama longtime ago.

He stopped to stare at the ash trees and swears he could smell Cherelle’s sweet perfume lingering in the hot Mississippi air.

People in town whispered about a strange new lady who used human bones for her rituals every new moon.

The night that Cherelle kissed grandpa the new moon in Scorpio had just risen. 

Soon after, grandpa packed his bags to leave Lula, and he never looked back.

NM

The Attic

Boxes of dolls and vintage dresses lined the attic of the old home.

I took a vow never to set foot back here, but when my mom asked about the dolls and dresses our grandmother passed down to us, I forgot that we didn’t take them.

So I had no choice but to come back.

It was a known secret that spirits echoed through the cold walls of the attic.

No matter how high we blasted the heat, it could never penetrate. 

Those sleepless nights interfered with school work, but we couldn’t talk about it with friends.

You never want to be known as the crazy ones who live in the haunted house.

Realizing this led my siblings and me to grow closer as it became difficult for us to keep friends.

It all began when my best friend Melissa first stayed over for a sleepover.

We were so excited that her parents finally agreed to let her stay that we planned a whole evening of binge-watching scary movies.

Being scared out of our minds was how Melissa and I bonded. 

She spoke about how her mother was a gypsy witch.

She learned how to summon the dead from her great-grandmother.

This night, Melissa asked me if I wanted to play a game using her new ouija board?

I was terrified yet intrigued.

I was warned never to play with ouija boards. But my curiosity was much stronger than my fear.

Later that evening, when my parents fell asleep, we huddled in my bedroom to see if we could contact the other side.

It all began innocently, but then we heard the slow dragging of footsteps up in the attic like someone or something weighed a ton.

We froze in place to listen closely, waiting for my parents to awake at the sounds of terror, but they never did.

Melissa’s phone began to vibrate—it was her mother calling—at 11:05 pm.

“We are on our way to pick you up, honey,” I could hear her mother say with panic in her voice. 

Nothing else was said before the line went dead.

In less than ten minutes, Melissa’s mother was pulling up outside.

After that night, Melissa was never allowed to stay again, and my parents couldn’t understand what happened.

When Melissa left, I tossed the Ouija board in the trash in front of our home.

I wrapped it shut in an old shoebox with a shoestring and tossed it at the bottom of the garbage bin.

At school the following Monday, I asked Melissa about that night!

I wondered if something had happened at home for her mom to make such an urgent call and grab her from my house late at night.

Upon arriving home, Melissa told me about how potent the smell of sage was throughout.

White and black candles lined their wood floors to purge evil and bless the home, and a chant was coming from her mother’s mouth.

Melissa’s mother told her that she felt the portal opening in our attic and knew right away that we had done it.

She spoke of an ancient beast that was waiting for the right moment to enter our realm and had done so that night.

Melissa followed her mother to a ready-made ritual bath to cleanse the harmful energy away.

Her mother warned her never to set foot in our home again.

We were pretty good at keeping the attic door closed and did so until the day we moved.

That was until mom made me return for the boxes of dolls and vintage dresses that lined the attic of the old home.

NM

White Coat

“Have you had a chance to look into the samples I gathered yesterday?” she asked before shutting down her computer screen for the night. “I will be making another trip to the asylum tonight for more.”

Maria, my curious phlebotomist, was always thinking ten steps ahead, even when it ran her the risk of getting into deep shit with our bosses.

But she was the best at what she did, so they always managed to turn a blind eye.

For months our lab had been working on a case that hit close to home.

For weeks, there have been whispers in the village of loved ones admitted to Harmony Valley Mental Asylum passing from illnesses no one could identify. 

These deaths sparked an interest in Maria.

Using her shapeshifting abilities, Maria was able to blend in with the staff of the asylum.

Nightly, she secretly collected blood samples for the past week while working the graveyard shift at Harmony.

There had to be a medical reason for all of the mysterious deaths, right?

Three nights ago would be the last time anyone would hear from Maria.

There was an eerie feeling in the air that night.

Before she left, Maria kissed me on my left cheek, and with a smile, she hung up her white coat and waved goodbye.

That was the first time she had ever shown affection towards me—her coworker. 

News reports surfaced today of a body discovered near the grounds of Harmony Valley Mental Asylum.

Its organs had been removed and the body...ravaged by wild animals.

It will take weeks for medical examiners to identify this person.

A small blood sample was collected and sent to our lab today, but I feel I already know.

The white coat that sits in our locker belongs to her—Maria.

NM