“Now, don’t you be telling Madame Audrey no tales,” she say. “Just be hurting yourself if you do.”
I tell her no ma’am. Mama Johnson didn’t raise no liar, except for my brother Lionel, but he in Yazoo City correctional for thieving.
She ask if I’m in true love or if I want that blotch off Seletha’s face. Tell her yes to both.
She lay conch shells, blue beans and a snake fangs on the table. She make a paste and rub it on our foreheads. She chant and light the table afire. The whole room glow. Feel like I’m in a barrel rolling down a ditch.
Madame Aubrey and her things gone, but Seletha sitting next to me, eyes closed. The blotch gone. I whoop and jump. She so pretty I like to take a bite out of her. Ask how she feel. Say nothing ever again.
[Spire, Congregrational Church, Chatham, Cape Cod, Ma] by Carl Van Vechten, 1936
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