The Journal Opens
“Announcing Erie Isle’s newest prosecutor, Emuna Zamani. . .”
Emuna smiled and shook her head as she took her weapons from her holders and laid them on her nightstand. The announcement had been sent out on the Blackberry’s of every government official in Erie Isle. Not long after it was made, she received congratulations from most but a few unfriendly comments from a select few. The comments did not bother her. She had a job to do. A job she never intended on having in Erie but there was a need.
After taking off her shoes, removing her badge and pants, Emuna fell back on her bed. Her pillows seemed more comfortable than any other night since moving to Erie. Maybe that was because she was so tired. The case of YuLan Zsun had taken most of her days and nights but she was determined not to stop until they finally had her in custody. Prosecutors normally had nothing to do with field investigations in the states but Erie had long since become unattached from the US. The rules were different. She rolled over as her eyes closed and the wind from the fan caressed her naked legs. She felt blessed that she found those pieces of metal and outside of Club Restricted. She knew it was from the bomb that went off in the club a few days prior. Hopefully, the lab techs could give the detectives something that Emuna could use that would stick toYuLan.
Upon entering the REM stage of her sleep, Emuna heard the voice of her mother. “Emuna, cessez de cacher de votre maman, ma petite sorciere.”
Only the sound of an eight year old giggling could be heard in the parlor of the Victorian styled home. The young mother placed her hands on her hips as she became a bit agitated with her only child. “Emuna, you are not to do this thing. You father is coming to see you. We promised no more of this to him, yes?”
A small, dark skinned girl appeared before her mother, out of the air with her head down. Braided tresses draped over her small shoulders. “No more of this thing, mama.”
The woman smiled to see that her daughter had reappeared and was dressed as she instructed. She walked towards her and smoothed a few stray hairs on her head back into place. “Your father would not miss your birthday for the entire world.” A look of worry then adorned the mother’s face. “You are eight today.”
Emuna looked up with a genuine smile. “I like when he comes. He brings me dolls from the countries he visits. I just wish he could stay with us forever . . . I don’t like that Pope man, mama. He keeps my daddy away.”
Before the woman could assure her special child, the door bell rang and the maid was addressing their guest in a jovial tone.
“Well look who the lawd done sent! Come one inside, Father and out of that rain. Been rainin’ all day here. Kinda odd too. Dis here is a strange rain.”
Emuna ran to the doorway of the parlor to gaze at the man who was now talking to the maid and giving her his coat. His smile could brighten the darkest room and Emuna could feel hear her mother’s heart beating well beyond its normal speed when he was near.
“Mabel, I have been thinking about your cooking since I left for France. I have to take you back over there to show them the correct way to cook a meal.”
The stocky woman closed the door with a chuckle. “Father, that’s cause they don’t know nuthin’ about the Creole way like I do.” Mabel, then turned to see Emuna and her mother waiting patiently for the man’s attention. That rain surely had something to do with their family. She was sure of it. “I’ma go ahead and get thangs ready for ya’ll to eat. I think two young ladies gots some hugs and kisses fo’ ya.”
The man of God turned to lay his eyes on the two people he loved most, after God himself. His blue eyes were soon glazed with tears as he stared at them. His wife of nine years, hidden for the eyes of the Roman Catholic Church. Her hair was pinned back neatly, her grey eyes threatening tears, her lips lightly painted in a hint of red lipstick, her skin dark like an African sunset and she was wearing his favorite dress. Emuna’s laughter broke his daydream. “And what are YOU laughing at, my girl.” He asked her with a smile.
Emuna lifted her finger and pointed to his heart. “Your heart stopped when you looked at mama.”
The man forced the smile to stay on his face but he was truly worried as his daughter displayed her extraordinary gifting so innocently. He quickly moved closer to them and dropped to his knees. “Em, remember you must not say those things around anyone except mama, Mabel and me.” Seeing that his child was losing her smile, he secured her chubby face in his hands. “AND that is because we want you all to OURSELVES! Grrrrr!” He scooped her up into his arms and made monster noises against her face as he turned in circles. Emuna’s laughing made the house seem like a normal home. Once her father stopped his play, he held her and walked over to his wife. “Hello, love of my life.” He leaned so that his nose was pressed against hers and their lips met. Emuna loved to see them show affection. She was not able to see it often with her father away so often. Her parents reluctantly stopped their physical greeting and led Emuna to the dinning room where they ate and treasured their family time.
Emuna’s body began to sweat in her bed as her head rolled from side to side. Her dream was changing. She saw flashes of her head lying on her father’s lap. The rest of her body in her mothers lap. Mabel was dressed in a white robe with a head wrap to match. She was rubbing some type of oil on Emuna’s head, face and the rest of her body. Emuna knew the smells in the oil. Van Van and Galangal. She heard Mabel speak.
“Father, did you find anythang out from dat church in France?”
Emuna heard her father reply. “Seers have been used for evil going back to the Old Testament. Enslaved and used for their God given gifts. This is different than witchcraft. The church knew this but spread word that people like Emuna were evil and needed to be killed or imprisoned. I learned that may times, they were not killed at all but enslaved by the church and powerful people to use them for their personal gain. They were killed only if they refused. Before I could read more on this one that was prophesied to come, I was escorted out by order of the Pope himself.” He then looked to his wife. “I think what I was getting to was that the one is our child here.”
Emuna’s mind moved forward to the weather battering their home, her mother speaking against the storm with Mabel. Her mother screaming over and over, “No, Great Grandmother. Leave her be!”
Mabel backing the words of Emuna’s mother. “Marie Laveau, your place is no longer here!”
Emuna’s mind flashed once more lying in a bed in a room that had no color at all; everything white. The walls, sheets, the ceiling and her bandages. A woman entered the room with a tray of food and a gentle smile. “You are awake, child. This is good.”
Before Emuna could ask about her parents and Mabel, the woman who looked a great deal like Emuna’s mother hushed her and whispered. “They are resting. We do not speak of them, ever or they will not regain their strength.”
The woman was her aunt Eldora and Emuna would be with her until she was eighteen years of age.
“Eyes open! Get out of bed! Go to the journal! READ!”
Emuna woke. Her eyes frantically looked about her apartment in Erie. She sat up, covered in sweat. She looked to the book that had been given to her before leaving for Erie Isle. It was locked before she went to sleep but now was open. Emuna stumbled to the journal and read the first page.
Dearest Emuna,
If you are reading this, the time has come for you to know the truth. This journal was enchanted with a spell that would only break if you began to dream. You would have to be in your eighth year of a decade, meaning eighteen, twenty-eight and so on. I am inclined to believe that you are eighteen because SHE needs you to be a virgin for what she has planned. If you are twenty-eight or even thirty-eight and still a virgin, you have your father’s will power.
Emuna broke from reading to chuckle a bit. “I am twenty-eight and still a virgin, proudly.” She then returned to her reading.
Your ability to dream was taken from you at birth. Only five days ago as I write these words. This was done so that my great grandmother, twice over could not connect with you through your dreams. Emuna, I am a descendant of Marie Laveau which means that you are as well being that you are my child. You can find many stories written about her throughout history but this journal will give you the true story that the world does not know of the VooDoo Queen. Only family history and the instructions of those before you can give you what you need to protect yourself.
I pray that your father and I are with you to continue to protect and guide you but if not, know that you were loved beyond anything I could ever express in this journal and we gladly laid down our lives for you.
All my love and soul,
Maman
Emuna’s fingers quickly flipped through the pages of the journal, only to find them blank. Before she could flip back to the first page, the journal closed and locked like it had been since she first received it. She did not attempt to pry it open, knowing her efforts would be fruitless.
