Aquanile

By Sheila M. Curtin
 

See this here, Mamatima grumbled as she mixed some indigo, corn meal and bendiciones in a little wooden bowel on the counter filled with corojo butter, this here is not the spirit, any fool can do this. She sprinkled some salt along with some Yoruba prayer, ago lona o yale over the ingredients while I watched, fascinated, swinging my feet in time to her words and her movements as I sat high up on my stool, intent on learning the process correctly. Yemaya seemed to wink at me from the corner altar. Sickness or health, luck or misfortune were wielded before my eyes by the gnarled and wizened brown hands moving quickly over the bowel. She reminded me again of the power of prayer. Pray for your enemies, she counseled. It gives you power over them.

She was a direct descendant of Ogboni society, a practitioner of that ancient African religion, back in her native Cuba. She had come to New York with the Marielitas, a quiet, respectful, thoroughly dangerous little old lady. She had a young face on a withered body, but such things held no clue to her age. It was her eyes, you could see in her eyes that she was ancient. Castro knew full well what he was doing in sending her off.

She passed me the cigar, and I tried to inhale but coughed the smoke out, quickly passing it back. I wondered if Yemaya really liked the smell of tobacco. I liked the smell of what was being prepared in the bowel much better.

Many people in the neighborhood came to Mamatima for help with their every day problems, mostly she prescribed some prayers and some roots or some herbs or even some vitamins, but sometimes she'd have to prepare something special. And I'd get to help her.

She took only jewelry as payment, gold or silver, or whatever trinket her patient could honestly pay according to what procedure they needed, as long as they'd worn it or owned it for any length of time. She never wore any of the stuff herself, never bothered with it at all, she kept it near the altar to Yemaya, guarded diligently under the watchful gaze of the Seven African Powers.

This time she was invoking her orisha, Yemaya, for guidance and she wanted to see what was needed to bring a neighborhood woman back with her husband. They all started off the same, the younger ones, basically, Mamatima, I'm in love with this man..., or woman, or Mamatima, I need suerte with the money. The older ones needed cures for their health. She could guarantee an arrangement but she'd still question who would want it if you had to cast spells to keep it. Inevitably, the orisha would want payment in addition to Mamatima's fee. Health spells were preferable, less costly, and more lasting.

We left the kitchen and sat down on the soft carpet of her living room, now darkened with a large mirror propped against the wall and a bowel of indigo water before it. Two large yellow candles near the door were the only source of light in the room. We sat before the darkened mirror and waited for her orisha to appear. My eyes grew heavy and I curled up next to the vieja on the floor and began to doze.

About seven o'clock her evening appointment, Ynez knocked on the door and Mamatima took her into the kitchen to discuss the results of her consultation with the orisha. It didn't look good for her. Her husband was smitten with this other woman and it would be extremely difficult to get him back, and she also wanted to warn her, there was blood on his hands, it was clearly visible in the visions shared with her conga. Ynez began to protest, defending her absent spouse. Mamatima sat politely as she went on and on about her husband's virtues, with the tuned out look of one who absolutely knows better. Finally she interrupted her saying I know what I saw and I've given you my advice. She watched Ynez, looking directly into her eyes, into her soul. She could see the desperation and turmoil hidden there and considered helping her. She knew it would be a difficult procedure to work given the circumstances but decided she would help anyway. I will need to work something powerful for you to get him back now, she said. It will cost the ring he's given you. The woman agreed to both her method and her price.

Ynez looked at her hand and withdrew from her finger a two carat diamond set in a heavy platinum and gold band. Expensive. She looked once at the ring, wistfully, then dropped it into Mamatima's open palm. They spoke for a few minutes longer, then Ynez got up and Mamatima accompanied her to the door. When Mamatima returned she went into the kitchen and began to prepare the ingredients necessary to the binding procedure she would perform. It would work to get Luis interested in Ynez again, but the rest was up to her, for as La Tina would be the first to confess, some things just weren't meant to be, no matter how much bruja you worked.

Ynez started walking home, hopeful that the riegas would work quickly and Luis would be hers again. Soon. He'd broken her heart when he'd left her for Cathy, and if she'd known where the bitch lived or worked she'd have paid her a visit personally and let her know exactly where things stood. It wouldn't be pretty. Fortunately, he still came around for chocha every now and then, and she'd been desperate enough to keep the hairs from the brush after she'd finished brushing his hair the last time he'd been over. They were intertwined with hers, and she'd been relieved to hear the old lady exclaim how well they would work for what she needed to do.

Luis stood against the wall in El Consego social club watching Hector play pool. He'd been fighting again with Cathy, over money, as usual, and he just didn't want to go home. He was standing there with a cold Corona in his hand, complaining to his friend about her faults and characteristics. Hector bent over the table, disinterested, intent on getting the six in the corner pocket and her Luis was being a pain in the ass, distracting him. He had money on the game, playing against Soto, who was sitting at the bar watching his every move.

Luis looked up as Ynez walked past the window, and he set his beer down and ran outside calling after her. She was looking very nice in those tight blue capris and halter, with everything bouncing as she walked. Watching her turned him on and all of a sudden he wanted her like he'd never wanted her before. He