14
On the June 22nd, Renee came to Kitty's room with a note from her Aunt, Marie Laveau; it encouraged her to be part of the St. John's Eve Ritual the following evening. The letter read; "It is said the ghost of my mother, who was the first Marie Laveau comes back on St John's Eve, she will grant the wishes of all who believe in the Magick."
In old Europe, midsummer was a fire festival, a pagan celebration of the longest day of the year. It was an observance full of the promise of the harvest and to honor the Sun King before he gave up his rule to the darkness. Barrels were set a blaze and rolled down hillsides to represent the sun. Huge bonfires were lit and folks danced around them and feasted on elaborate banquets.
Falling near the time of the summer solstice, St John's Eve became the Christian alternative to the pagan custom. Known as the summer Christmas, St. John's Day celebrates the birth of John the Baptist. The bonfires to the pagan gods became the Fires of St. John. The world of New Orleans voodoo assimilated both pagan and religious symbolism into a ceremonial Magick.
Zebulon strongly objected when she told him the next morning on their way to the Cathedral, that she wished to take part in the midsummer ritual. "It is no place for a white lady."
She stomped her foot, for she was in no mood to be crossed. "That's not true! Renee says there are a lot of white people there."
"Yes, those who are curious, but not those who were blessed with a rational brain and not those who are within weeks of giving birth to a child."
Trying a different tact, she smiled at him and caused her voice to purr. "What harm can come to me Zeb? You'll be with me."
He shook his head at her."Madame that line is growing a bit weak."
That day's heat was especially oppressive. The sky carried an unnatural shade of yellowish gray as if in keeping with the evening's primordial rites. Off in the distance in the direction of the sea, thunder rumbled ominously, the vibrations seemed to cause the earth to tremble. As night drew near lighting streaks slashed the darkening heavens.
Zebulon's face was set in a glower as Kitty made her way down the staircase on the arm of Renee, "Madame I implore you to forget this foolishness, no good can come from it."
"My mind is made up Zebulon."
"And if I refuse to take you?"
"Than I shall go on my own, I'm perfectly capable of handling a buggy." This was a blatant lie, for although she was empowered by a rush of energy, her back ached fiercely.
"In your condition Madame, you are not capable of driving a team of bunny rabbits, but I shall not argue the point. I must insist however that you stay close to me at all times."
"Very well." She replied taking his arm and glad for the support.
The carriage was equipped with two leather upolstered bench seats. Renee and Kitty sat behind Zebulon. Halfway to Lake Pontchartrain it started to mist, and the servant stopped the conveyance, to pull down and adjust the side flaps to keep the moisture off his passengers.
In the distance they could see the horizon lit by a hazy glow, which might have been the reflection of the moon preparing to rise had it been a clear night. "The bonfires." Renee advised.
The light grew as they neared, until pillars of glowing smoke, which threw sparks and spit flames, filled the sky. Around the blaze danced smaller circles of fire flashing from lightwood torches. There were crowds of people, mostly dark skinned but some were white, ladies and gents from `polite society' in fine clothing watching as spectators from afar. Police and reporters too were in attendance. Zebulon pulled the carriage to a stop and set the break.
"What are you doing?" Kitty asked.
"Everything you need to see, you can see from here." Zeb answered.
"No." Kitty said, looking past a shadowed veil of cypress and Spanish moss, "I need to be closer, I need to be a part of things …" She hoisted herself from the buggy with Renee close behind.
"Madame..." Zeb begged, before finally giving in and dropping the weight to anchor the horses in place.
They moved toward the bonfires, past a line of black men beating huge Congo drums with the leg bones of buzzards. Around the flames half naked women whirled in a mad frenzy, faster and faster to the rhythm of the pounding. In smaller blazes, caldrons bubbled with the remains of animal sacrifices, which had been offered to the Loa in exchange for favors and wishes granted. The air smelled of burned wood and fire, sweat and the boiling entrails of black cats, snakes, chickens, frogs and lizards.
Kitty watched transfixed unsure if the emotion she was feeling was excitement or revulsion. The people around her began to chant, "Damballah, ye-ye-ye!" She looked up to see a flaming barge making its way to the shoreline. In the middle of the flames was a figure who seemed oblivious to the fire. Was this the Marie Laveau she knew or the ghost of the one who'd come before? The woman raised her arms and it was then Kitty noticed the huge python coiled around her body. As if on cue the winds picked up and thunder and lighting enveloped the night.
The vision moved from the barge - the crowd parting like the Red Sea; making a path for her. Their chant changed, "Li grand Zombi." She stood for a moment in front of the fires as they hissed and crackled behind her. "Damballah, ye-ye-ye!" the Voodoo Queen said and echoed before she began a slow dance, her body moving in hedonistic undulations as the snake increased the pressure of his caress, up her legs around her breasts to rest circling her neck. The chant grew louder, faster, "Li grand Zombi Li grand Zombi Li grand Zombi…"The rain came harder, "Come Madame," Zebulon urged, "you have seen what you came to see, now let us get out of her before you are soaked to the bone."
Instead of putting out the fires, the rain seemed to have the opposite effect; the water had no power over them or Marie Laveau. Kitty pulled away from Zebulon and Renee seeking a place closer to the dancer, hoping the woman would notice her and answer her petition. Thunder roared with the eloquence of caged lions and a moment later a sword of lighting hit a tall cypress tree fifty yards away splitting it in half. The broken tree crashed to the ground. The occurrence mimicked the sudden slashing pain, which came to her back at the same instance, strong, pulling, tearing. She shrieked with the shock of it, but the screaming of the crowd and the howl of the wind drowned out her cries. Stationed on either side Renee and Zebulon grabbed her for support she lowered her head to catch her breath, and than raised it again until she was looking at the flames and then looking through them to the other side. Like an apparition conjured by the Magick she saw Matt Dillon's face looking back at her.