House of the Angels

Several days went by with little to no incident arising. Everything was quiet within the walls of Angel Manor with everyone tending to their lessons or coming and going as they pleased. The littler ones went outside almost every day to play basketball or to build forts in the gardens while the older ones came home well after midnight.

But soon enough it was June 23rd, the eve of the feast of St. John the Baptist, a saint most holy to those who lived on the bayous and in the Crescent City. During the day, St. Augustine Street was somewhat quiet but when nightfall approached the celebrations would begin. Bonfires would be lit, voodoo ceremonies would take place and tales of witches and demons would be told by the elders…..an early Halloween of sorts.

“Kyle and Dylan!” Sybilla called from the hall. “I need ya’ll to come and help me in the yard.”

Kyle and Dylan had been in the ruddy old kitchen preparing the catfish that Andy and Eddie had caught several days before. They followed Sybilla to the garden where she busied herself with the pile of firewood that was to be placed in a great pit to be burned during the ceremony that night.

“Is all of this for the ceremony tonight?” Kyle asked.

“All of it.” Sybilla answered. “There’s gonna be a good crowd tonight so I expect all of you to be on your best behavior.”

“What about the kids?” Dylan asked as he helped hand the firewood to Kyle.

“I need them in bed as soon as everything is done.” Sybilla informed him. “I don’t care how late the rest of you stay up, but I ain’t havin’ any of them turnin’ into cranky lil’ crabs in the morning.”

Kyle and Dylan helped gather the split firewood while the others were summoned to help with other tasks. Kurt was summoned to help make more incense, Francis and Rachel were ordered to help bring an old table out into the yard while Ash and Gwen were made to help prepare the altar.

The statue of the Virgin was brought outside into the garden and everything with it, the candles, the bottles of rum and tequila, food, small dishes of tobacco and incense, the rosary beads, all carefully placed as though it had never been disturbed.

“Girls!” Anne called to the young ladies of the house. “I need all of you to get your white clothes out of the laundry!”

Rowena, Gwen, Eve, Grace, Miriam, Ada….all of them hurried to get their good white clothes out of the wash and ironed before sundown. Everyone in the house, including Sybilla had to look immaculate during the ceremony. It wasn’t easy keeping the littler ones clean especially after they had just come in from playing in the yard, but somehow they managed to pull it off.

The girls dressed themselves in their good white blouses, shirts and long white gypsy skirts that just barely covered their ankles. The boys on the other hand wore a white t-shirt and their good khaki cargo shorts, spraying on overwhelming amounts of pungent smelling men’s deodorant and cologne. The girls did each other’s hair, pulling it back into a braid or up into a bun and covering it with a white bandana or kerchief.

“Why do I have to wear white?” complained Julianne as Grace tied her flame red hair back into a long braid. “Why can’t I wear purple?”

“Because Sybilla said so, that’s why.” Grace said firmly.

Julianne screwed her face up into a sour sneer while Grace rolled her eyes and continued to do her hair.

“I hate wearing white.” The eight year old whined. “When I’m older I’m never going to wear white again.”

“What about when you get married Julianne?” Grace enquired as she smoothed back a few loose tendrils.

“No!” Julianne insisted, stamping her foot. “I hate white! I never want to wear it again, ever!”

“Child you’ll wear white whether you like it or not.” Sybilla informed her icily. “This is your first voodoo ceremony and I ain’t havin’ you look like a ragamuffin ya’ll hear?!”

“Yes Sybilla.” Julianne said meekly.

“No more arguin’.” Sybilla added. “Ya’ll will do what Gracie tells you to do. No backsassin’ and no being mouthy. Git it?”

Julianne nodded without hesitation. Grace thanked high heaven that Sybilla had stepped in and helped her out when she did.

“Lookin’ good lil mama.” Sybilla remarked when Grace stepped back and admired her handiwork. “Alright now you git yourself downstairs. Don’t soil your whites now you hear?”

“Yes ma’am.” Julianne said before taking off out of Grace’s bathroom.

“I’m so sorry you had to deal with that Sybilla.” Grace apologized. “I tried, I really did.”

“No worries Gracie.” Sybilla told her. “I been doin’ this longer than anyone else in this house. Why don’t you step back and let me help finish your hair.”

Grace stood facing the bathroom mirror while Sybilla carefully did up her hair in a long golden French braid. “Ya’ll look just like Annie when she was much younger.” Sybilla remarked as her dark, nimble fingers swept up the loose ends.

“You really think so?” Grace asked.

“You and Eve both.” Sybilla chuckled. “But Eve’s hair ain’t like yours. When she was a lil’ baby it was like combin’ through a rat’s nest.”

Grace snorted and laughed. It was true that Eve’s hair was much more untamable and curlier than hers although Grace had never thought much on the matter until then.

“I member when Annie’s first ceremony was.” Sybilla began. “We was both young and new to it all, didn’t know what to expect. Luckily her grandmamma and grandpapa showed us all the way.”

“They’ve lived here a long time haven’t they?” Grace wondered.

“Mhmm.” Sybilla hummed. “Since the first angels came to earth. Tasked with protecting humankind from the forces of darkness.”

Grace had wondered how long it could have been since then. They had lived among humankind since the day they were born, but how long was it truly since the first ones had come to earth and settled Bayou St. Therese? Years? Centuries? Millennia? It almost seemed to exhaust her trying to figure it out. Maybe the Book of Angels could give her some clues as to how long it had really been if she bothered to study it closely.

“I have somethin’ for you.” Sybilla said.

She opened up a small box and inside was a necklace strung with the whitest pearls Grace had ever seen. The small stones were almost blindingly white when Sybilla clasped it around her slender, fair neck.

“These belonged to my great-great grandmama’s mother.” Sybilla explained. “She lived on the La Salle Plantation, workin’ as a housemaid for Miss Belle. Taught her how to read and write and when Miss Belle died, she gave her pearl necklace to her to repay her for her kindness. Been in this family for four generations.”

“Thank you Sybilla.” Grace said gratefully as she hugged her close.

“No worries child.” Sybilla told her. “You just git goin on downstairs now.”

Grace hurried away downstairs where everyone was almost ready for the ceremony. The two Eugenes were both busy stirring pots and frying pans full of food in the kitchen while a few other residents chattered away in the living room but many chose to make themselves scarce in the gardens.

“Looks like we’ll have a good sized crowd tonight.” Sybilla said to Joseph who was leaning against the side of the staircase. “More people showin’ up and all.”

“How many do you think will show up?” Joseph said after swallowing a sip of water from his water bottle.

“Close to thirty.” Sybilla shrugged. “Maybe a few more.”

“We’ll be packed tighter than a sardine can.” Joseph teased.

“Oh stop it now.” Sybilla retorted, smacking him lightly on the back of the head. “Most of us will be out in the garden anyways. Gotta do voodoo ceremonies in the open air I always say.”

“Hey Sybilla,” called a dark haired boy who had been helping the two Eugenes. “How many peppers do you want in the rice dish?”

“No more than two of’em Floyd.” Sybilla answered. “I ain’t havin us a repeat of what happened last time.”

“Yeah last time you actually breathed fire out of your butt.” Laughed Francis.

Sybilla rolled her eyes when she heard Francis suddenly yelp after being hit with a wrung up dishtowel. Boys will be boys…she thought.

“Sybilla is there anything else you need for tonight?” asked Molly, a frail twig of a girl who had taken up with Floyd.

“Got anything worth contributing Molly?”

“I got some tobacco leaves from an herbalist, does that count?”

“Go ahead sweetheart.”

As everyone prepared, the house became more and more crowded with people who began to show up with their own offerings. Even the poorest of the poor had shown up, offering hand rolled cigars and a few measly pennies in exchange for a hot meal personally prepared by the housemates. Floyd and Joseph kept the little ones under control, giving them an extra helping of food here and there or picking them up by the wrists and spinning them around until the child grew dizzy and could no longer walk straight.

Kyle and Dylan piled up the firewood in the pit with logs and kindling, lighting it until the flames began to roar and the sun sank lower and lower on the line of the horizon. Andy, Eddie and their girlfriends Miriam and Ada chattered away with familiar neighbors. The garden came alive, buzzing with activity as people from all walks of life had gathered for the night’s festivities.

“I haven’t seen the yard this lively in years.” Anne remarked to Berta. “I remember when people were too afraid to come down here.”

“Ya can’t blame’em for that Miss Annie.” Berta sighed. “Some folks is just too closed minded to understand.”

“Yeah well maybe if they came down here they’d see that it’s a whole lot more than just stickin’ pins in dolls and spittin fire with one-fifty-one.” Jested Scott De’L’Eau, a blonde haired firefighter who had come all the way from the Crescent City to see Anne and Sybilla.

“I meant to ask Scotty,” said Anne. “How’s Lieutenant McCall holding up?”

“He ain’t been the same since Sunny’s passin’.” Scott answered, running his fingers through his dark blonde colored hair. “None of us have.”

“Well hopefully her spirit will be with us tonight.” Anne told him. “I know my husband’s will be.”

“So will those of the partners we’ve lost at the station over the years.” Scott added. “One of’em was way too young. Only twenty when he got killed during Katrina.”

“Oh come now Scotty.” Said Berta. “Now ain’t the time for mawnin their loss. Tonight is a night to be joyous and celebrate the lives they led.”

When everyone had eaten and drank their fill, the food and dishes were cleared away. The sun had set and the sky was growing darker with all the stars beginning to dot the vast dark blue field. When all was ready, Doctor Jacques called out an order for the ceremony to begin.

The elders sat in the old wiry porch chairs, many of them women who bore the deep lines of age within their faces and the wisdom of centuries evident in their eyes. Three young Haitian men played out a lively rhythm on the drums while Sybilla and Doctor Jacques began to sing the names of the voodoo spirits as well as those of the Catholic saints.

Sybilla’s voice rang high and clear like a bell over the drumbeats while others in the crowd began to sing with her, praising God, his saints and the gods of Africa who bore strange names to those who were unfamiliar to them. They called out for Papa Legba, the gatekeeper of the spirit world to open the gates so the spirits of deceased loved ones could come forth and join in the celebration.

“One man and one woman come forth!” Doctor Jacques ordered.

Kyle and Eve stepped forward, turning three times as Jacques made the sign of the cross with a small machete gripped within his large hand. Three more times he called for one man and one woman to step forward, Dylan and Rachel, Floyd and Molly and Joseph and Esther repeating what Kyle and Eve had done before.

The rhythm of the drums picked up their pace, growing faster and faster as time wore on. Sybilla and Anne swayed like trees on a windy day, sweeping their slender hips to the music. The air was heavy and humid with the fiery heat becoming unavoidable. They could feel the presence of the spirits entering the garden, those of the four dead children, elderly men and women who had lived long lives, people who had died far too young and many others who wished to say hello to their loved ones or to give them a message they never got to give. Thousands of words and sentences filled Anne and Sybilla’s ears as the music began to peak. The odd ululating sound of a bird somewhere in the garden could be heard amongst the whispers of the dead.

All of a sudden the earth began to quake beneath the feet of the patrons. Yells and screams could be heard out on the streets, startling everyone out of their deep trances.

“I think Sybilla got a bit carried away.” Joked Francis.

“That’s not her Frankie.” Kyle said, listening to the ominous screams of the people around them.

A loud roaring noise ripped through the heavy night air. Kyle, Francis and the other residents of Angel Manor peered over the garden wall to see a huge beast tearing through the streets, ripping up sidewalks, concrete and pavement in its wake. Its head was that of a viper, long and scaly with long fangs and eyes as red as the flames of hell. The beast’s serpentine body was covered in a thick scaly hide, its haunches and forepaws resembled that of a goat and its forked tail snapped like a whip, tossing people into buildings and up in the air.

“Git forward and make sure that thing don’t come near us!” Sybilla ordered as everyone began to shuffle into the house.

“Got it.” Joseph answered. “ANGELS GO!!!”

One by one the residents of Angel Manor scrambled over the garden wall and took off high into the air, their wings outstretched and flaring as they dove for the streets below.

The wretched beast barked and screeched at the angels when they landed with tremendous force, the pavement cracking and flying in all directions the moment their feet hit the ground.

“Go get him guys!” Joseph shouted.

The angels drew their carefully concealed weapons and charged at the beast, the ground quaking and rumbling beneath their feet. They swung their weapons, slashing at the ankles of the beast as it thrashed and snapped to try and throw them off. Poison dripped from its fangs and onto the pavement, burning a hole into the sewers below.

The angels fought with every fiber of their being, hacking and slashing with all their might and dodging the drips of burning poison that fell dangerously close to their feet. The beast roared its fury when Dylan managed to hit it on the back of its leg with one fell stroke of his sword. Rachel flew high up to its thrashing head and drove her blade hilt deep into its eye and sending a spray of hot, crimson blood raining down onto the others.

“I don’t think there’s any other way of stopping this thing.” Rachel said between broken, worried breaths.

“Trust me,” said Dylan. “There’s a way.”

The angels regrouped on the far corner of the street, out of the way and in a safe place to plot their next move while the beast writhed in agony.

“So what’s the plan?” Floyd enquired.

“We’re gonna have to kill this thing another way.” Dylan explained before a loud roar escaped the beast’s mouth. “Looks like we’ll have to try the shockwave.”

“Are you friggin nuts?” Kurt declared incredulously. “We haven’t tested that one yet.”

“I say we do it.” Kyle cut in. “If it’s the only thing that can kill this thing then so be it.”

It was unanimous. The angels would have to try something none of them had prepared for. Creating a shockwave that could kill the beast was risky, but sometimes they had to take a risk in order to save other people.

Joseph led them away from the streetcorner and let out a shrill whistle that caught the beast’s attention. The angels stood still, never once flinching as the beast charged on its lightning fast feet. At Joseph’s signal, they all rose high up into the air, holding their positions as the beast skidded to a halt.

“Everybody drop!!!!” Joseph commanded.

All at once, the angels landed on the ground with a punch that tore up the pavement and sent the beast flying right into the shallow river where it landed with a splash and finally drew its last breath.

“Holy shit.” Breathed Joseph.

The angels looked all around them at the damage this creature had caused. Several buildings were on fire, the pavement completely torn up and now its corpse lying dead in the shallows of the river near Pelican Bridge.

“Sybilla is gonna have a hard time explaining this one.” Kyle remarked, tapping the tail end of the beast with the toe of his sandaled foot.

“No kidding.” Snorted Floyd.