House of Rougeaux(8)

Though it was Sunday, Adunbi was at the barns feeding and watering the stock. Abeje tended the cooking pot, and kept turning her head to glance at the Obeah woman. She sat tall and straight as a tree, surrounded by people who offered her food and asked of news from elsewhere. Abeje gazed at her blue garments, and her black skin, the colors of night, but when she looked away she saw the Obeah’s image, with great fiery waves about her of red and orange, like the blossoms she sometimes saw in the Grove.

Then the next time she glanced at her the woman looked back. Abeje’s heart jumped and beat quickly. Never before had she seen the likes of her. When they were children Iya told them of the Great Cat that was yellow like ripe wheat and lived across the Big Sea. The Obeah woman was fierce like the Great Cat must have been, but Abeje could see she was not ruthless. She was a mother who had lost her children, and turned her protection onto all of the people. A great need arose in Abeje to get closer to her. She removed her pot from the fire, stole up and sat on her heels at the edge of the group. Abeje listened, drawing a circle in the dust with a stick, as the Obeah continued conferring with three of the women. Suddenly she spoke.

“What yer name, child?”

The Obeah looked directly at the girl. Abeje did not move at first, but the folks waved her forward.

Abeje stood before the Obeah and her voice came out in a whisper. “Marie, Mam,” she said, looking down.

The Obeah leapt to her feet, eyes flashing with anger. Her hand shot out and her fingers grasped Abeje’s chin, forcing their eyes to meet.

“I said, What yer Name!”

Tears came up and rolled down Abeje’s cheeks, and her voice broke from its whisper.

“Abeje!” she cried, “Abeje, Mam!”

“Ah!” The Obeah peered into the girl’s face. Her dark eyes grew larger and larger until they blotted out the sky. “Abeje....” Her voice hummed, taking on Anaya’s song. Abeje felt the Obeah’s rough thumb on her forehead and she spoke again.

“Spirit has marked you, child, I see that well enough.” She ordered Abeje to sit at her side, and she resumed her talk with the women. Soon they rose and the Obeah bade Abeje to follow them into one of the huts. She was to watch and listen as the Obeah tended to one of the women, Berthe, who was ailing with swellings under her arms, and in the groin and throat. As the Obeah began her song the lids of Abeje’s eyes drew down. She could see much better this way. She found herself joining the song, following until the spirits of four plants appeared. Abeje learned their names and songs, smelled the essence housed in their flesh. One of the plant spirits was called Queen of the others, another was very like Berthe herself.

Abeje sat with the Obeah the whole rest of that day, as she tended to others, including the carpenter’s wife. Carpenter gave her a strange look when she entered his hut with the Obeah, but no one questioned the healing woman. The Obeah stayed one week in the Quarters. At that time there was a party of guests at the Great House, and Lise and Karine from the kitchen asked Madame for permission to get Abeje’s help. Once they put her to work up at the House, she was not so weary each night from the hard labor of the cane fields, and she was able to assist the Obeah in tending folks. In this way the Holy One arranged for her initiation.

One evening while it was still light the Obeah beckoned Abeje to follow her. They walked without speaking into the Grove.

“Show me your own plant,” she said. Abeje knew there was an Anaya close by and she led the Obeah there. “Oui,” said the healing woman, pleased. She caressed a leaf, then quickly plucked a few. She broke one apart and breathed in the scent. Then she asked Abeje, “Do you know a tree with a brown crust growing around the bottom?” She did, and they soon found one. The Obeah brought out her knife, and cut a piece of the crust away from the tree. “Now I will show you something.”

Back at the Quarters, in a small pot, she brewed a tea from the Anaya leaves and pieces of the brown tree crust. “This drink is for healers only,” she said, “to aid in preparing herself for a healing.” When it was ready she poured a gourd full for Abeje. The sharp, sweet taste burned over her tongue. She tasted the dark earth, and drained the gourd. The Obeah watched as Abeje began to feel small tremors in her middle.

Soon it was dark and the cooking fires were busy with people. Abeje was unable to move, and sat very still looking into the flames. She heard the healing woman’s voice. “Tell me, what do you see?”

“Colors, Mam,” she said, in wonder. She saw the colors of fire, of water, of the flowers, of fish and the birds, all dancing.

“Now listen,” said the Obeah, “what do you hear?”

When Abeje closed her eyes she saw the colors still, and heard Anaya’s song, which became threads of light that laced around her fingers.

“I hear light,” Abeje said.

“Good,” said the Obeah. “Come along now. Let’s see what Spirit brings us to heal tonight.”

That night there were four healings, and the Obeah instructed Abeje to put her hands on each person. “Let the right place pull you,” she said. The last healing was a final visit with the carpenter’s wife. The Obeah asked her to lie back against her husband and waved Abeje forward. Abeje knelt beside Floria and listened again to the light. Her hands moved to the small of the pregnant woman’s back, which felt icy cold.

“Oh my,” Floria said. “Girl, you are burning me!” But she was smiling.