Short Story
Voodoo Me
The doll rested safely and, dare Jessica believe…contentedly…against her heart for the rest of the afternoon.
Her skin was like coal, dark black and ashy in places, so dry she looked as if a stiff wind would blow her away like a mound of sand in a hot desert. She spoke in a whisper as Jessica passed.
“Miss?”
She might have missed it any other day, walked by in her usual haste, but it seemed as if all other sounds had paused momentarily for this woman’s message to travel to Jessica’s ear.
“Miss…ssss…?”
Like the lulling hiss of a snake, the word hit its mark, soft and swaying; Jessica turned briefly to meet the woman’s deep, black eyes.
“Excuse me? Did you say something to me?” Jessica walked a few steps toward the woman, who was sitting on the steps of a large, crumbling brownstone. Two cats sat beside her, a gray and a black — and a mongrel of indiscernible breed lay at her feet, baring its left canine in uncommitted warning. She was a large woman, buried in several layers of multi-colored skirts and sweaters. And her hair, wiry, mottled black and white, stuck out from underneath a lavender knitted beret in reaching spreads like shadowed coral.
