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“She can’t make me do that. I’m a bus driver. She can make me drive, ’cause that comes natural to me. I sure ain’t no killer, though. She can’t make me hurt you.”
“But that doesn’t mean she doesn’t have someone that killing comes natural to waiting for me,” I said.
That he said nothing to the contrary told me he agreed that it was a possibility. We continued on in silence for a few moments longer. “But you a Taylor, my girl. Ain’t they nothin’ you can do to protect yourself?”
“Sorry. Shooting blanks,” I said, laughing in spite of myself.
“Well, you know I be praying for you. If my prayers count for anything, you will see the sun rise tomorrow,” he said and then stopped. “We here. They gonna be a few steps up now.” He guided me up onto a porch. I felt a bug strike my face and nearly jumped out of my skin. “It’s okay, girl. You be brave. Now, she say this is as far as I can take you.” I heard a screen door screech open, and he guided me over the threshold. Another set of stronger and rougher hands took charge of me, and I was swept through the entrance and into another room. The door slammed shut behind me.
“You can see again now,” a sorghum-sweet voice allowed. My vision returned instantly, and I felt my limbs return to my own control. The room, walls, and floor were all the same color, the aquamarine shade known around these parts as “haint blue,” prized for its efficacy in repelling insects and unfriendly spirits. In the center of the room sat a single chair, and on that chair sat Mother Jilo, resplendent in shades of blue and purple that could arouse envy in a morning glory. On her lap sat a three-legged cat that purred as she scratched its head. The recipe for true haint blue called for the ashes of a cat’s left back leg. I had a feeling that I knew what had happened to the feline’s missing appendage.
“Why did you bring me here?” I asked. Jilo ignored my question.
“Come closer,” she commanded.
“I told you I don’t want your spells,” I protested, even as my feet obeyed. They carried me within arm’s length of her throne. “I should have never come to you in the first place, and I don’t want anything more to do with you.” Even though my body was under Jilo’s control, my hands still had enough will of their own to clench into fists. I leaned as far back from her as her powers would allow.
She surveyed me up and down slowly then said, “So you wondering why Jilo brought you here. And I am sure you are wondering where ‘here’ even is, but I tell you these are the wrong things to be wondering. What you should be asking yourself is why your people never even taught you how to defend yo’self against being taken. Why you think that is, girl? Go on, you answer Jilo.”
“I guess they thought folk would have more sense than to mess with me.” The sound of my voice shocked me. I sounded angry…no, I sounded downright pissed. Jilo laughed, a deep and hearty sound that told me she really was amused.
“That’s okay, girl. You should be mad. But you shouldn’t be mad at Mother. You should be mad at that high and mighty family of yours. They the ones who left you defenseless. Not Jilo.” Shadows formed at the edge of the room and began to advance on me, bumping up against my legs and sniffing at me like wild dogs. My instincts told me not to move.
“Back!” Jilo screamed, and the shadows scurried away and cowered in the corner. The individual gray shadows merged together, forming a single black mass.
“What are those things?” I asked and then corrected myself. “That thing?”
“That none of your concern,” she responded. “Old Ginny in the ground now. That mean Jilo wins.” She laughed her laugh that sounded like something between amusement and a death rattle.
“Did you kill her?” I demanded.
Jilo stopped laughing and leaned in close to me. “Jilo told you the spell she workin’ for you took blood.” Her eyes widened, and she began to cackle. My knees turned to jelly at the old woman’s words. If Maisie hadn’t assured me that blood was never really used in love spells, I might have collapsed completely. She winded herself with her laughter, and it took her a few moments to catch her breath. “Maybe Jilo killed the old woman, and maybe she didn’t. What you willing to sacrifice to find out?” she asked, the cat on her lap stretching and licking its phantom limb. “I’ve seen you going around town, telling your lies for money. You charge for lies. Jilo gonna charge you for the truth.”
I was relieved that she wanted something from me. The fact that I had something to offer bettered my chances of not ending up being planted at her crossroads. “I don’t have any money. At least not now. I will after my birthday. If you let me live. Me and Detective Cook’s grandfather. You let us live, and I’ll let you have everything coming to me.”
“Girl, Jilo don’t need or want your dirty Taylor money,” she said, disgusted. “And Henry is well beyond any help you can offer him.”
“Then why do you want to hurt me?” I asked.
“Jilo got no need to hurt you. Jilo got better use for you. And that is for you to let her show you the ways. Let her teach you like Ginny oughta done.”
“And what if I don’t want that?”
“Then you ain’t as smart as Jilo gave you credit for.” She paused. “And you won’t be under her protection no more.” The shadow in the corner of the room moved a foot closer, but Jilo held up her hand to stop its progress. “I know your family,” she said. “I know they secrets, things they shouldn’t be keeping secret from you. Every time you come to Jilo, she send you away with one truth. We see how much truth you can take.”
“But why are you doing this? Why would you care if I can do magic or learn my family’s secrets?”
“ ’Cause, my girl, I want to hurt them. And I want to hurt them in a way that no killin’ can. I want them to see themselves reflected in the hate shining through yo’ pretty green eyes. Once you know them the way Jilo know them, you will understand why.” Hatred carved wrinkles in her forehead and around the edges of her mouth. Her lips curled back into a hiss.
“I don’t want to hurt them. I don’t care what they’ve done,” I said.
“You say that ’cause you don’t have any idea what they done. Not just what they done to Jilo, but what they done to you. You come to me, you come to me willingly next time, and Jilo tell you what happened to your precious Ginny. Not that Jilo understand why you care what happened to her. The old one sure didn’t care about you. You decide. You come to Jilo if you want to know.
“Now to show you Jilo acting in good faith, she give you one secret for free. You go ask that fairy uncle of yours why my grandbaby walked into the river and she never come back out.” With that, Jilo snapped her fingers and the room went black. I groped along the wall, feeling for the door, and my fingers brushed over a light switch. When I flicked it on, I nearly fell back in shock. The chair was gone, and the room was no longer cyan. I was in the room of shared secrets, the linen closet on the upper floor of the house where I’d been raised. Jilo had made her point. If she could reach into our home, into the heart of my childhood, she had all the power she needed, borrowed or not.
TEN
