Oppressed Page 3

  “How much have you missed me?” His soft fingers ran down my cheek and across my lips.

  “So much.” My body desperately longed for his kiss and the sensation of his body against mine. My eyes closed and like a rabid dog I sniffed the air for the scent of sweet jasmine and lilies. It was a scent that always seemed to manifest every time Lucus kissed me.

  To my horror, instead of kissing me he roughly grabbed a fist full of my hair and jerked my head back.

  “Ouch! What the hell! That hurts.” My eyes snapped open. I dug my nails into his hands in an attempt to loosen his grip. This definitely wasn’t Lucus-type behavior. Our eyes met and I was taken aback by the sheer hatred, bitterness, and anger I saw in his gaze.

  A hint of a smile played on his lips and those cold, angry eyes bore into me. “Well, I haven’t missed you, ma cherie.”

  “Lucus, you’re hurting me,” I desperately pleaded with him. What was his problem? The face I had believed to be so beautiful was transforming into something monstrous and unrecognizable right before my eyes. The more I struggled, the tighter his grip became. I was tempted to kick him in the groin but I couldn’t bring myself to do it. Those moves were reserved for Ivan. My pleas for him to stop fell on deaf ears.

  “Do you know why I haven’t missed you?”

  “No.” My lips quivered and my tears of happiness quickly transformed into those of confusion and silent rage.

  “Because you fooled me into believing that you were actually worthy of my love. But now, I see the truth.”

  “The truth?” I had no idea what he was referring to.

  In that haunting voice of his that somehow managed to magically blend in with the humming of the swamp animals, Lucus started to sing:

  You've got me looking through my mind

  Like a prisoner with the cool iron bars

  You've got me looking through my mind

  Like a prisoner with the cool iron bars

  You got me dreaming funny things every time I take a nod

  Tell me, kind lover; tell me what can it be

  Tell me, kind lover, tell me what can it be

  You keep on acting funny and it sure is worrying me

  Lord, I begin to wonder if it's only me myself

  Lord, I begin to wonder if it's only me myself

  Ain't talking in my sleep, how can it be somebody else?

  “I don’t know what that means,” I said, after he had stopped. “But I do know that you’re hurting me and that’s not cool. So I’m going to ask you for the last time, let go of me. ”

  “Hurt?” he laughed as if I had no right to use that word. He let go of my hair and pushed me up against the oak. His body burned into mine and I felt his rage and frustration pour into my very soul. For a moment he stared listlessly at the stars as if he were trying to search for the right words to express all that he was feeling. His pose was that of a waxen mannequin and the romantic glow of the moonlight did nothing to soften his tense expression. There was a heartbreaking sadness about him, and it pained me just to look at him. What had I done to cause him so much grief?

  “Lucus.” I reached out and stroked his cheek with the back of my hand and brushed away the lock of hair that had fallen over his eye.

  He slapped my hand away and clasped my tear-stained cheeks between his hands. His full lips pressed against mine and his tongue fought its way into my mouth. I willingly allowed the fierce, heated kiss to consume my entire being, even though I knew it was wrong given the really odd circumstances. My hands fell onto his chest, my toes curled as they dug into the earth below, and the entire world as I knew it vanished. Our dance was rough, savage, and completely reckless. I wanted the moment to last for eternity. Needless to say, I was sorely disappointed when he abruptly pulled away.

  His eyes peered into mine. “Why can’t I stop loving you?”

  Confusion gripped me as I tried to make sense of his question. “Stop loving me? Why would you want to stop loving me?”

  “Why?” He laughed deeply and took several steps back. “Why?” he repeated, as if the answer was painfully obvious. He crossed his arms and started to pace from tomb to tomb. “Why?” he repeated the word over and over again like a madman. When he finally stopped pacing, he leaned against a tomb and focused his attention on me. His gaze was cool and detached. “You’re a disease.”

  My heart sank and horrible sense of dread washed over me. He thought I was a disease? Neurotic, perhaps. Paranoid, clearly. Insane at times, but a disease? This wasn’t right. There was something wrong. What had happened to him? I walked towards him slowly, calmly; approaching him with the same kind of caution one would approach a man threatening to jump off the ledge of a skyscraper. “Lucus, what’s wrong? This isn’t you. What happened on the other side? Please tell me, I can help.”

  “You happened,” he whispered.

  “But you said…” I stopped in my tracks.

  “You see, at first I didn’t understand how anyone was capable of hurting you. I thought Tony was a fool for having caused you pain and having let you get away so easily, but now I understand that he was only trying to protect himself. Your love is poison, bitter and vile. It’s a parasitic infection and now it needs to be removed.”

  My body trembled. “Removed?”

  “Yes,” he said, as he took off his t-shirt. Under normal circumstances, the sight of Lucus shirtless would have made me melt and prompted me to stare at my toes while I tried to stop drooling like a love-struck school girl, but at that moment it filled me with fear and worry. He picked an empty rum bottle up from the ground and smashed it against a tomb.

  “Lucus, what are you doing?”

  He ignored me and brought the crude piece of broken glass to his chest and with a swift and graceful move slashed himself. A stream of angry blood spilled out of the wound and trickled down his chest and onto his stomach. Under the glow of the moon it appeared thick, ghastly and tar-like.

  “What the hell!” I leapt towards him and tried to snatch the glass out of his hand. He pushed me away with such force that I fell and hit my head against a nearby tomb. “Ouch! You ass!” I screamed as I tried to sit up. I had never thought that out of all people Lucus would have been capable of acting like such a jerk. Still, I loved him with every fiber of my being, and I watched in complete horror as he proceeded to slash himself repeatedly.

  When his eyes rested on me they were those of a man who had lost all reason. His face was a mask of pure anger and venomous resentment. “When I was a child, physicians were convinced that the best way to rid a body of disease was to drain it of blood. The infection would somehow disappear with the lost blood and the body would be renewed and fresh. I believe they were correct in their reasoning. You’re an infection that inhabits every cell within my body and I see no other way of freeing myself from you,” he said, as he slashed himself again.

  I got up and pleaded with him again. “Lucus, please. Whatever I did, I’m sorry. Hurting yourself won’t make it any better.”

  He tossed his head back and scoffed as if my words were ludicrous. “I’m not hurting myself. I’m freeing myself from your evil grip.”

  “Evil? If I’m evil, why the hell did you beg me to stay here and relentlessly pursue me? If I’m so evil why the hell did you fall in love with me?” Anger was slowly replacing the worry and compassion I had felt for him just moments earlier.

  “Because your brand of evil is so very seductive,” he said. “Women like you seduce, use, and abuse men like me before tossing us away.”

  Women like me? Seduce, use, and abuse? Given the fact that my seduction skills were next to nothing, it became abundantly clear that he was insane and reasoning with him was pointless. Had a trick been placed on him? I prayed that Ivan wasn’t behind this mess. I wasn’t up to fighting another battle with him. Where was he, anyway? “Bade,” I whispered. “Please help me. Please.”

  Bade’s response came in the form of a ghostly discourse that sang through the leaves.

&nb
sp; Silly Arelia, you’ve been warned

  You’ve been warned to listen for the music

  Silly, silly, run, run, run away from this monster

  He’s a monster

  The monster of your illusions and fears…

  I watched in disgust as Lucus slashed himself over and over again as if he were a martyr suffering for some grand cause.

  “Run? I can’t run! Look at Lucus. How can I leave him all alone? I have to go back to the house and get help. I’ll get Aunt Mae; she’ll know what to do.”

  The wind grew stronger and it chilled my bones to their very core.

  “He has the help you seek, but only if you’re ready. Only he can introduce you to her. Don’t give into this delusion. This world is a manifestation of your fears. You’re afraid that once you find out the truth this is what your life will become, but have faith that it doesn’t have to be this way. Don’t be afraid of the truth. The truth may be ugly and painful. It may make you uncomfortable and shatter your illusions about yourself and the world around you. It may force you to re-evaluate your relationships with everyone and everything, but you cannot hide from it. The truth is the truth. Run towards the music, silly one! Help is waiting where the music is! The truth is waiting and it shall set you free.”

  “Really! That’s all you’ve got? The truth shall set me free? Bade, that’s a cliché!”

  “Run towards the music!” Bade insisted. “Run away from the swamp and the graves.”

  How could I simply leave Lucus all alone? In one last desperate attempt I tried to snatch the glass from his hand. My attempt was futile, considering he had a clear height advantage over me.

  “Don’t you dare try to stop me,” he said.

  I couldn’t bring myself to look at his bloody chest. The sensation of his warm blood as it dripped onto my feet was revolting. I closed my eyes and pressed my body against his, hoping that my embrace would somehow magically close up all of his wounds and rid him of his grief. “I love you, Lucus. I’m going to make things right, just you wait. Everything is going to be alright.” I tried to sound as convincing as possible even though a million fearful thoughts were buzzing through my head.

  I felt a glimpse of the old Lucus fighting his way back to me. He enveloped me in his arms and softly ran his fingers through my tangled hair. I held my breath and prayed to all the saints in New Orleans that he was no longer crazy. There was an agonizing moment of silence before he spoke. His voice was pained and mournful. “I can’t stop loving you despite all that you’ve done to me. Your mere presence has the power to send me to the bottomless pit of hell and straight up to the infinite glory of heaven. You’re my everything, and I will love you forever and always even though you don’t feel the same about me. Je t’aime. Je t’adore, Arelia.”

  I fought back tears. He was so dramatic. So tortured. So insanely perfect and unaware of the profound impact he had on every inch of my body and soul. Heaven forfend! What had I turned into? “You’re wrong. I do love you and I’m going to prove it to you, but right now I have to leave you. I promise I’ll be back. I promise.” I kissed him deeply, passionately, and with all the strength I could muster, before he pushed me away and continued his self-inflicted torture.

  I turned my back on him. Bittersweet. Always bittersweet. Why couldn’t it ever just be sweet?

  I let out a low sigh, focused on the big picture, and reminded myself that everything would be alright. It had to be, but first, I needed to find out what the hell was going on. What had I done? Was I really a disease? Or was this all Ivan’s doing? Marie, who am I supposed to meet?

  Chapter Five

  Papa Legba

  Twigs snapped under my bare feet, branches tugged at my clothes with their bony hands, and the hoots of owls and broken cries of birds accompanied me as I fought my way through the all-too-familiar maze of oaks. Listen for the music, I reminded myself. Listen for the music. Where was this imaginary music? I stopped to catch my breath and silently cursed the swarms of mosquitos that were feasting on my sticky skin. Around me sweet purple and white wildflowers bloomed in the night air, and nature in all its glorious shapes and forms was alive and vibrant, but I felt as if I was trapped in a never-ending nightmare. Where was I? What side was this? If this wasn’t reality where was reality?

  Despite the feeling of hopelessness that was creeping into my bones, I did something that surprised even me. I didn’t panic. I stayed perfectly calm, composed, and simply listened. It started out so faint that I was certain my ears were playing tricks on me. Then it became louder and louder: the sound of a lone guitar playing in the dead of night, accompanied by a low gravelly voice singing the blues:

  Everybody say she got a mojo

  now, she's been usin' that stuff

  Mmm mmm mmm, 'verybody says she got a mojo

  'cause she been usin' that stuff

  But she got a way trimmin' down

  hoo, fair brown, and I mean it's most too tough

  Now little girl, since I am the King

  baby, and you is a Queen

  Ooo hoo eee, since I am the King

  baby, and you is a Queen

  Le's us put our heads together

  hoo, fair brown, then we can make our money green

  The voice was utterly spellbinding as it wailed its tune into the night. I could sense that it was coming from the direction of the main gate. I made a mad dash out of the forest and onto the main path. When I reached the main path I saw that although the main house was covered in a thick fog, the gate was perfectly visible. How odd. By the time I reached the gate my legs were wobbling from sheer exhaustion and I was out of breath. I thought back to when Lucus and I had jogged to the gate and ugly-ass Sousson Pannan had showed up. I really hoped that this wasn’t anther one of his nasty tricks.

  “Hello!” I cried out, as respectfully as I could.

  Nobody answered, but the music continued to play and that earthy voice continued to sing its haunting tune.

  Everybody say she got a mojo

  now, she's been usin' that stuff

  Mmm mmm mmm, 'verybody says she got a mojo

  Think, Arelia. Guitar. Gateway. Power. Could it really be Papa Legba? He was basically one of the most powerful and popular loas around. He wasn’t only respected in New Orleans but in various other countries around the world. In Trinidad and Tobago he was referred to as Elegua and in Brazil he was known as Exu. He was so widely revered because he had the power to remove any obstacles that stood in your path and he could bestow you with the gift of clarity, therefore making it easier to reach your final destination or goal.

  The only problem was I had no idea who or what stood in my way, nor did I fully understand what my final goal or destination was. How was he supposed to help me when I wasn’t even sure what I needed to ask for? But above all, was I willing to accept whatever had to tell me? Was I willing to face the scariest thing of all? The truth? I wasn’t sure. What if Lucus wasn’t who he appeared to be? Would I be willing to accept that fact?

  Is this who Marie had wanted me to meet? Had she arranged for me to meet Legba, and if so, why? If memory served me correctly, according to the many, many rumors swirling around the curse Papa Legba was the spirit who had control over Lucus and Louis’ souls. If this rumor was in fact true, I had to meet him and beg for his help.

  Obviously, meeting Papa Legba and getting his help was a big deal. However, like all spirits, he was known to be pretty tricky and picky and I didn’t have any candy, rum, or cigars on me; aside from your very soul, those were his favorite offerings.

  “Hello!” I cried out again in vain.

  The music continued to play but I heard no voice reply to my greeting. Given the fact that I was empty-handed I wasn’t surprised that he wasn’t even willing to acknowledge my presence. I thought back to all my study sessions and tried to think of something, anything, that would help me with this spirit. After a few minutes of racking my very confused brain I remembered a chant that was supposed to ap
peal to him:

  Papa Legba, please help your children at the gateway

  Papa Legba, open the door

  Your children await

  Open the door Papa Legba

  So that I may pass

  When I return, I will thank the loa.

  The music stopped, along with the humming of the swamp animals. Not a single leaf rustled nor did a single cricket chirp. It seemed as if the entire world had died, with the exception of me. Above, the moon slowly changed color from a bright yellow into a rich shade of blood red. Against the pitch black sky it was a sight so striking that I had to stop and momentarily admire its radiance. The moon and sky told me Papa Legba had to be near. Red and black were his signature colors. But where was he? Was he spying on me and deciding if I was good enough to help? That thought made me a little paranoid and promoted me to stand up straight. I really needed to work on my posture.

  “Hello? Papa Legba? Are you there?”

  My question was met with silence and I felt myself becoming increasingly nervous as it hit me that I was attempting to meet the rock star of the spirit world. According to legend, Papa Legba was the messenger of destiny; after all, he had been the one who had tuned the legendary Tommy Johnson’s guitar and had steered him towards fame and fortune. Johnson had openly admitted that it had been Legba who had helped him out. Clearly I wasn’t destined to be a rock star given my tragic singing skills, but where would my destiny lead me, and who was Papa Legba going to introduce me to? But most importantly, how would this crazy ride help me help Lucus and Louis?

  I gripped the metal gate and tried to peer beyond it, but to my disappointment I only saw a pool of black emptiness which seemed so vast and never-ending that I was sure I would never see the light of day again.

  Since I didn’t have any other options I backed away from the gate and tried the chant once more.