The Usual Suspects (June 1981)

Politics, religion, culture

Tradition, legacy, history

Organized manipulation of Nature

Egos like voodoo spells

Stagnant like birds without wings

A rainbow in black and white

History becomes his story

Hope floats away on emerald waves

 

 

6th installemt of La Diablesse tomorrow don’t miss it

6th installemt of La Diablesse tomorrow don't miss it

Ian is shamed by his fellow teachers, laughed at and ridiculed for asking questions about the La Diablesse. Then here comes Allison, granddaughter of an Obeah woman, telling him that she can stop the curse La Diablesse from appearing. Will Ian take up her offer, will he refuse? Come back and see.

5th Installment of La Diablesse the novel

I entered the classroom as the bell rang, students hurried to they seats some dropped books as they went. I sat at me desk at the front of the class and surveyed the room, they sat looking at me, all thirty something of them, man, and I felt like a Prime Minister at he impeachment.

“Michael,” I called to the boy sitting closest to me “Would you hand out these papers for me?” the boy smiled as he reached out to get the papers. I watched as he maneuvered through the wooden desks and chairs he charcoal coloured skin glistening, I tell you what he mother should never put so much grease on the child. Most of the students looked at they papers but some just put it into the draws in they desks.

Whispers came from the other classrooms the confusion of voices sounding like telephone operators during the Christmas rush, often, we heard the roar of laughter or the scraping sound of a chair as someone stood up, but despite all of the distractions and overcrowding, we were able to educate these students and some of them moved on to be doctors and god help them politicians. Michael was back at his desk waiting for me to assign a lesson, I thought for a while as they waited patiently
“Here is what I want you to do,” I said shuffling through a stack of papers on the desk. “Write a story about some folktales your parents or grandparents told you, I want it to be about two pages long.” The students got out their notebooks and began writing. I sat and stared at the papers in front of me for a while and when I was satisfied they had settled down to they work I got up and left the room.

As I walked into the teacher’s lodge I saw Alison standing at the door she was one of the senior students known as an obeah woman round the campus. Some of the students were real afraid of her because it was widely believed she knew how to cast spells and curses that might turn them into some kind of hideous beast. She was the only student who defied the dress code, I mean, despite wearing the white blouse and brown skirt, she arms and neck were decorated with beads of green, red and black, she fingernails, well, they were painted black and she walked round with this suspicious look on she face, she would carefully walk past corners as if expecting some evil spirit to jump out at she. I stopped short of the door expecting she to move but the damn child gave no indication of moving so I stepped round she and walk into the lodge.

There were two female teachers in the room and as I walked in smiles appeared on they faces.

“Ghosts and spirits,” one of them said and they both began to laugh, frigging idiots, they need to sit down and shut up, I mean, the last thing they wanted to do was tease me. I shot them the crossest look I could and went over to me desk and sat down. Anger welled up in me, but I did not know if I was angry at them or at meself. When I became a teacher I knew it would be hard for me to be accepted into they little fraternity, I mean, I was young, fresh out of college and was sometimes too anxious to prove meself. It was the late seventies and despite the growing awareness of culture on the island there was a small movement of so called intellectuals trying to distance the people from the culture that was such a prominent part of they ancestry. For years I struggled with meself feeling caught between the modern world and the world that me grandmother loved so much.

I tried to block out the laughter by reading the titles of some of the books on me desk, but peace of mind evaded me as they laughter filled the room and spilled out into the hallway, finally they got up and left the room not saying a word to me and I sat there scratching me head profusely. After a little bit I stopped scratching and sat there staring at the wall in front of me, suddenly me whole body tingled and I turned round and saw Alison standing in the door, she had that familiar suspicious look on she face she eyes almost as black as the nail polish on she fingernails
“Shouldn’t you be in class right now?’ I asked, she did not respond she just looked at me like I was a dead man on display in a church, then in a voice deeper than you might expect from a girl five feet and an inch.

“You saw she, din you?” I looked at her trying to keep me face as expressionless as possible.

“What on earth are you talking about?” I asked but from the moment I said the words I knew I had not fooled the bloody girl.

“You saw she, Ah could see it in you eyes,” She insisted stepping into the room with surprising speed and grabbed hold of me wrist, goose bumps formed all over me arm as I vividly remembered the woman in white, Alison tightened she grip bringing me back to reality

“Ah heard you talking to Mr. Hopson dis morning,” she said determined to convince me that some evil was lurking in me backyard, I tried to pull me hand away but she fingernails dug into me flesh and a thin line of blood rolled down me wrist, I stopped struggling for fear that she nails might go deeper into me skin and for a moment I forgot that I was the teacher and she was the student.

“Yes, I saw a woman in my yard but it could be anyone playing a joke on me.”

“Wha was she wearing?” Alison insisted, I reached over with me free hand and unwrapped she fingers from me wrist, damn girl should to be thought she place.

“Listen here young lady; get back to your class before I take a belt to you.” Alison stepped back a far away look in she eyes she lips moved but at first no words came out, she just stood there like she was in some kind of trance as she small button shaped nose twitched and she thin lips quivered.

“Yeah, me muma told me bout a oman like dat. She say dat de men and dem who see de woman act just like you, Ah could see it in you eyes, Ah could see it on you face. She have you bazody” I wanted she to continue talking so I could find some reason for the way I felt after seeing the woman in white, but I could see in she eyes that she was drifting into she own thoughts. I was disgusted at meself for wanting to listen to her, hell I knew better than to sit there and let some obeah child bully me but suddenly she stepped towards me the black part of she eyes rolled round with excitement.
“De La DiaBlesse visited you for sure,” she shouted she voice echoing down the hallways and into the classroom, I placed me index fingers on me lips as a sign for she to lower she damn voice and it worked because she continued talking in an erratic whisper.

“Listen to me, if you don do sumting now you doomed, she go come back, take you away and dat go be de end of dat.” She stood there waiting for me to respond but I was looking down at the thin stream of blood running down me arm. She did not wait for me to answer she just went on talking.

“You mus seek help, me Muma could help you.” She was looking into me eyes and I could see the reflection of the room behind me, I lifted me arm causing droplets of blood to speckle the desk. Her expression changed, small lines appeared on her forehead.

“Why you fighting dis?” She asked attempting to grab me wrist again. “Protek youself man, come see me Muma.” I was light headed from lack of sleep, a surge of heat rushed through me and I almost fainted.

“O. K, that’s enough, you get to your class right now,” I said and pointed towards the door and she backed out of the room slowly she jewelry clinging as she went. She disappeared through the door still looking at me leaving a slight scent of musk in the room, I looked up at a picture hanging on the wall above me desk; it was the depiction of a colonial family. The youngest child was holding a candle in she hand, she father resting a protective hand on she shoulder, two older children stood in front of the family their expression showing their displeasure with being in the picture. Off to the side and a little to the back was the mother, as if she was a separate entity from she family, I looked at the father; his stern face and muscular build overshadowed the rest of the family.

Trialer for Obeah

The novel Obeah

http://www.amazon.com/OBEAH-Anderson-Charles-ebook/dp/B006OIRYYW/ref=sr_1_3?s=digital-text&ie=UTF8&qid=1390363766&sr=1-3&keywords=obeah

https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/118879