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The candles burned low in the little hut that served as his temporary home. He had not seen any other human being that day. The last vestiges of daylight had long passed among the jungle and the village beyond. He was not sure what the people there thought of this man, stranger from a strange land, living amongst them these last few weeks. A simple meal was prepared and eaten, rice and beans, enough to fill his stomach and fortify him for his quest. As the night sounds around him became full in bloom, he began to put out each candle in turn, darkness slowly encompassing the room he had occupied. After tonight, he would not need this room again.
His name was Robert Jones, and he had come to this dark island in search of answers. His quest had been a long one, a quest of the spirit as well as the road. He had travelled far in his journey, looking for the thing he needed the most in the world. As he sat in the darkness, allowing his eyes to adjust to the gloom, he reflected back on his life. The road had been a long and hard once, since that day so many years ago when he had left his life as a Professor at Harvard. His faith had been tested time and again by seeing the underside of America, searching dark bars and back alleys. Finally, in a little shop in Florida, he had discovered a signpost to the path he must take.
He was initiated into the world of the loa that very day, accepting the spirits into himself and feeling their presence. He knew that it was his best chance, his only chance, to find the answers he sought. Many of his friends, when he had told them of his quest to find out what happened to the woman he loved, thought he was mad. And madness still may have been what brought him across the waters to this dark island, filled with the echoes of drums and the stares of those who did not understand him.
He had travelled to Haiti three years ago. It was a long, hard path that brought him here to this little village in the island’s center. He had first had to introduce himself to the local leaders, still steeped in the lore of the dark continent they had once called home. It was a rough thing, convincing them that he really was a fellow traveller and not just some rich man from America, here to study or ‘civilize’ them. Finally, after many dark and bloody night spent in the hounfour, he had convinced them of his sincerity and dedication to the spirits. Only then was he given the direction to this dark and desolate place, far from the prying eyes of the uninitiated, where he might continue his quest.
He had spent the last few weeks roaming the hills behind this little hut. Somewhere, out there in the jungle, he knew his destination existed. He had been told by some of the old people of the village that the place was madichonnen, or cursed… and that many people had gone into the jungle to never return. It is amazing what you will believe when left with no other alternative. Thinking back, he imagined the dour Professor he had been making this journey into the wilderness.
He bore little physical resemblance now to the plump, smiling fellow he had once been. Gone was the paunch, replaced by lean muscle from years of bad meals and long roads. The years had taken their toll on his health, to be sure, but he was sure that he was physically stronger and better now than he had ever been in life. The toll on the mind was the hardest part, the longing and searching for answers to questions that only the world of the spirits could provide. Even when dealing with the Rada loa, the ‘good’ spirits of the voudou faith, the mind sometimes had a tendency to take on the aspects more and more of the spirits that rode you. And he could not say that he had always restricted himself in his obsessive quest to the more friendly side of the family.
Robert gathered his things into a tiny pack, just enough food and water to do a couple days, some working tools, a razor sharp knife. These items were his only real necessities in the wildnerness. All other things would either take care of themselves, or kill him. Either way, his journey would be at an end at last. Walking out the door, he gave a final look to the little home he had used… it was as much a home as anything else had been for a long time. Turning to the dark jungle, he began his trek into the wilds.
The brilliant moon, full and ripe, was shining tonight to light his way. He had developed remarkably good night vision during his long trek. He was walking at a brisk pace, stepping over fallen branches and around holes. The last thing he needed was to be stopped at this point by a broken ankle. Closing his eyes, he let himself be open, filling his mind fully with the sounds and scents of the night. He knew that the place he wanted to go was roughly northeast of the little shack, but where exactly he had never been able to discover. Tonight, he was going to change that failure into success. It was all he could do. Living in fear had been his life of the past.
Suddenly, he felt it… he felt a pull at his body, somewhere deep inside near the pit of his stomach. He knew, in that instant knew the proper direction to travel to reach his destination. Quickly, before the feeling could dissipate in doubt and worry, he began moving faster through the jungle. He followed it like an animal scenting prey, pulled by a lure older than time. Branches scraped his face, his hands, leaving a little trail of bloody drops in the path behind him. All things of great importance require a sacrifice, and the sacrifice of self has ever been the most powerful one that could be given.
Moving now at almost a run, low to the ground, Robert felt his muscles tightened like steel bands. He was in his element now, following the ebb and flow of the energy in the jungle to find the best route, like a salmon swimming upstream, navigating currents and flows with instinctive precision. He did not know how long he had been moving, or even in which direction he was travelling only that it was the right direction. Suddenly, without warning, the ground gave way beneath him and he stumbled and tumbled down a small hill that he had somehow missed in his haste. Looking up from the ground, he saw that he had finally arrived at his destination.
Looking up at the hillside, he saw the entrance to a cave. The entrance was low and covered with plants and vines. He understood now why he had missed this place. It would be almost impossible to see without being at this angle, and even then it was hard to notice without the incredible pull he felt behind his eyes right now. It was like a moth to a flame, and he could not resist the urge to get up and enter the dark cavern. Checking that he still had his pack, he stood up and began walking toward his destiny.
The smell of smoke wafted from the entrance as he moved closer to the mouth of the cave. This was a curious thing in Robert’s mind, but it was quickly overshadowed when he realized he was not alone here in this space. He heard voices, though whether with his ears or in his mind he could not say. Many voices, speaking in languages he did not completely understand. He thought he caught a few words of French, but there was another language underlying that which more closely resembled the Creole patois he heard the natives around here speaking. The voices seemed to emanate from deeper within the cave, so he followed them.
It was not until he had gone about twenty feet underground that he realized he was still able to see. It was as if the walls of the cave were luminescent, a cold light that did nothing to comfort but only to light the path. He continued deeper still and noticed that the light was taking on a more golden glow… the smell of smoke growing stronger as he pushed deeper inside. Finally, rounding a low corner, he found the source of the light and the smell. A fire was blazing away there in the middle of this chamber, the flames licking up and touching the ceiling leaving patterns of soot on the ancient stone. There, beyond the fire, he saw a vaguel
y humanoid shape crouching amongst the shadows on the far wall.
Robert moved around the fire to get a better look, but the form somehow always remained right outside his field of view, almost seeming to dance behind the flames to keep hidden. The feeling in the room was one of tension, barely concealed anticipation. Nothing felt off here, or dangerous, but sometimes with these things you could never be certain. Once he had been ridden by a loa that claimed to be Legba, but it had turned out to be something darker. He had used all his concentration to shake that creature from his mind and banish it from the sacred space around his altar. He kept a wary eye on the shape, while taking in the rest of his surroundings.
The cave walls were smooth here, almost as if they had been chipped and carved into the current dome shape over countless years by countless hands. On the walls, faded and old, symbols of the loa were formed in various substances, chalk, dirt… some carved directly into the walls possibly by the same hands that had smoothed their surface. He saw several he recognized. Many were of the Rada family, though some were of the more fiery Petwo clan. These spirits, while not ‘evil’ in the traditional sense, were fiery and fierce, more at home in Haiti. They were the source of the Revolution that founded the country. Their worship was all too often shrouded in bloody rites and violent confrontations. Robert tried to steer clear of the Petwo when he could but all houngan sometimes had to ‘serve with both hands’ as the saying went, and they had their place along with the more benign members of the family.
Turning his attention back to the shape in the corner, he opened his mind and spoke with his voice and his spirit. The words resonated through the cavern, echoing deep into the recesses of the tunnel leading further on underground. With each word, the flames seemed to respond, parting a little more with expression of his Will and power.
‘Show yourself, you hidden lurker. Bring yourself to this servant of the spirits. I am Robert, son of Harold. I have come a long way for my answers and I will not be denied by playful antics at this hour!’
The shape rose to it’s full height now, the shape of a man, but of darker cast and shadowy substance. The whisp of smoke around his head could be seen in the shape of a top hat, and that is when Robert knew who he was dealing with. Baron Samedi, patron and leader of the Ghede Loa, spirits of departed ancestors and of the grave.
The Ghede were not truly dark and evil as many suspected. Their image had just been incorporated into many of the dictators who ruled this island, using the top hatted and skull faced figure to frighten enemies and conceal crimes against the people. At their heart, the Ghede were more humorous than fearsome, though they were spirits of the dead and not to be trifled with unprepared. One thing to remember about the Ghede, they are as unique as the people who spawned them. The only thing they share is a vulgar humor and often perverse view of human sexuality. Once you got used to that, they could help a great deal with any matters involving your ancestors, or your lost loved ones. That was why Robert began this trek so long ago.
‘Ghede, Baron, Father of the Dead, I come to you here this night to ask questions. Do you consent to answer? I have something for you if you will give me your word that you will answer true.’, Robert said in a full voice. He had learned long ago to never shy away from even the most disgusting practices when living on the road. It was better to meet things head on and will full consent than to sit back and let life float by like a river.
Robert reached into his bag and pulled out a bottle. This bottle, stoppered tightly, contained a clear liquid in which small red peppers were steeping. This liquor, raw rum spiked with the hottest peppers possible, was especially prized to the Ghede family, as it was almost too hot to drink for a normal person. Many people, when ridden by a Ghede, would wash their faces in it and spray it in their eyes to prove they were truly possessed as it was known to hurt and even blister normal skin. Robert placed the bottle down near the fire and removed the cork from the smooth neck. The Baron moved forward toward the bottle, but kept coming toward Robert. He had just a single moment to prepare before the spirit entered him fully. The scent of grave dirt and sex rose in his nostrils as another voice filled his mind and another being filled his consciousness.
I know you, young sir, who have courted my company for so long. These answers you seek, they are here with us this night. I believe your sacrifice has been long made and fulfilled. The road is not one you follow to the end, but one you keep following until the end of your days. We shall talk, you and I, of the person you seek. But first, tell me, what are you willing to further give for the information you seek?
‘I’m willing to give anything, Father of Ghede, to know that my beloved Catharine is among your number and safe. I’ve long searched for her, and no trace could be found. I just want to know what happened to her… give me this and you can take whatever you wish as your due.’, Robert’s voice sounded distant in his ears, as if he were hearing himself through a heavy fog.
Well then servant, listen carefully to my words and you will know wisdom. Your beloved, who you lost so long ago, is not now and has never been among my ranks. She left you, did she not? She left because of her own hungers and passions… desires for harsh substances and bitter herbs. She left you when she realized that she could never be the person you desired, and only wanted to avoid hurting you. She traveled herself for quite some time, moving from place to place, doing many things to feed her hunger. Your travels have taken you to some of the same places she has been, though you did not know it.
‘Why do you tell me this, when I know I cannot find her. She does not want to be found if she did not contact me then! I’m lost and abandoned, even as I myself abandoned the life I lived so long ago.’, Tears stood out on Robert’s cheeks as he said these words, a crushing pain in his heart. Somewhere deep inside he felt something tear, but he knew it was only his body releasing it’s tension. He did not truly ever hope to find Catharine in this place. The news she was alive made his aching heart beat faster.
There is more, faithful horse, if you would hear it. She traveled long, I say, but she did return to you. Not a month ago did she take up residence in the City you left. She had hoped to find you and only found empty rooms and a shuttered house. She lives there still, not a mile from the place you both called home…. waiting and watching for any sign that you might return. She has defeated the demons inside her and is slowly healing, becoming whole in the thought that she might never see you again. That is the difference between you two, she is capable of this healing. You, however, have been lost in your own grief for so long that you cling to it like a lover, desperate for one more minute of pain that you think you deserve.
Your sacrifice is complete, my servant of the grave. You wish to know what else I require? Nothing else, only that you see your road not as a destination, but as a journey that has brought you to me. Through me, and my brothers and sisters, you have become more than you were. You have become stronger, you have become more wise. You have become the man you should have been years ago. Let go of your grief, and feel the joy of the living in this place of the dead. Sleep now my son, and know that your prayers have long been answered by your older siblings on the other side.
With that pronouncement, Robert felt a pain in his head as the spirit left him. He stumbled backward, falling on the ground, dizzy and exhilarated. Catharine lived! That was his last thought before the darkness overtook him and he passed out on the old cave floor. When he awo
ke from this dazed stupor, he saw the first light of dawn creeping in around the curve in the cave passage. He stood, saying a prayer of thanks to Baron Samedi and all the ancestors of his people and this place. Gathering his things back together, he left the bottle of raw rum as an offering to the loa. He moved forward toward the cave mouth, symbolically to be born again as he emerged on his journey home. If he had looked back at that moment, he would have seen the wisp of smoke curling from the burned out fire, smoke barely in the shape of a man in top hat and tails. The smile on that spirits face was one of a grandfather, proud that his children and their children were making good in life. In the end, that is truly all that the spirits wanted for any of us. We are all family, and no one can grow and prosper alone.
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