His first thought was that she was a panhandler, and that he was about to be approached with yet one more pitch to separate him from a few dollars. On second thought, however, he reconsidered. She didn’t look like a panhandler. She was black, in her late twenties to early thirties, and dressed in a white cotton blouse with a light fabric, multicolored full skirt. There was a dark handkerchief wrapped around her head, but he could still see that her hair was long, halfway down her back.
“I’m sorry, do I know you?” Griffen said, stalling slightly for time.
“We have never met,” the woman said, “but I have heard much about you, Griffen McCandles. There are those who are concerned about your presence in town and what it might mean to them. I felt it was time to meet you in person and to form my own opinion.”
Despite his normal wariness, Griffen was intrigued. If this was a pitch for a handout, it was an approach he had never encountered before.
“You seem to have me at a disadvantage,” he said, wandering closer. “You know my name, but I know nothing about you.”
“My name is Rose,” the woman said, gesturing for him to join her on the bench. “I am a practitioner of Santeria…what you would call a voodoo queen.”
It occurred to Griffen that a month and a half ago, he would have found such a claim to be ludicrous. Now, he was merely curious, and a little cautious. This woman didn’t look like a threat to him, but how could he be sure? It was amazing what even a short time of living in the Quarter could do for one’s outlook on life.
“I don’t understand,” he said, taking the indicated seat. “While I’m not a practitioner or a believer, I have some friends who are, and to the best of my knowledge I’ve never been opposed to or even disrespectful of your religion. Why should my presence be noticed, much less be of concern to anyone?”
“Because you are a power,” Rose said. “A new power here in this area. We know of dragons, and have kept ourselves apart from their machinations. Word has been passed around, however, that it is your intent to exert your influence on all of us, to attempt to unite the various supernatural elements of this area under you control or command. You can see why this would cause some concern.”
“But that’s ridiculous,” Griffen protested.
Griffen had to consciously keep his jaw from dropping. He was having a hard enough time coming to grips with all that was around him. The idea of trying to control anyone, much less people he’s never met, had never occurred to him.
“All I’m doing is trying to learn about Mose’s gambling operation. The main reason I came to town is to try to get away from dragons who either want to recruit me or kill me.”
“I can see that, now that we’ve met,” the woman said. “I look into your heart and I see no greed or even ambition there…at least not so far. I will attempt to reassure those who will listen, but you can understand why there are those who are afraid of…what is it?”
Griffen forced his attention back to the conversation.
“It’s nothing,” he said. “Please. Go on.”
“No. Tell me,” Rose pressed. “What is it that concerns you?”
“It’s silly, but it’s that cockroach,” he said, pointing to an oversized insect determinedly making its way toward them. “I saw one just like it when I was leaving my complex and…I know it sounds crazy…but I’d swear it’s the same one. I think it’s following me.”
“I see,” Rose said, leaning forward to stare at the indicated insect. “Well, if you like, I can do something about that.”
“Could you?” Griffen said. “I’d appreciate it.”
He didn’t really believe Rose could do anything, just as he didn’t really believe the cockroach was following him. Still, he was curious to see what kind of hex or ritual the voodoo queen would come up with. He didn’t have long to wait.
Rising from her seat, Rose poised for a moment, then took a long step and stomped hard on the insect with her foot.
“There,” she said, resuming her seat. “That should take care of it. Someone will have a headache for sure.”
“I’d say more than a headache,” Griffen said, stifling a grin. “I doubt it has a mind left at all after that.”
“Not the bug, Mr. Griffen,” Rose said, shaking her head. “I’m talking about whoever was using their mind to control it.”
“Control it,” Griffen said, staring at the insect’s remains.
“Remember I told you that some of the folks down here are afraid of you?” the woman said. “Well, there’s one group that has a rapport with animals. Even more than the witches and their familiars. It would not be unlike them to use various animals to spy on you…or even to attack you if they were fearful enough.”
“Well, you said that you would tell them that I’m harmless. Right?” Griffen said. “That should take care of everything.”
“I said that I would try,” the voodoo queen said. “Not everyone listens to Rose. I have something here that might help you with those that don’t.”
She dug into her handbag, and produced something that she handed to Griffen, who examined it. It was a double strand of small black and red beads.
“You put those on now, and wear them all the time,” she said. “They will give you some protection, and mark you as a friend.”
Griffen followed the instructions, then hesitated, suddenly awkward.
“Um, look,” he said. “I don’t want to be disrespectful or insulting, but may I make some sort of a contribution to your temple or whatever to show my thanks for your help and advice?”
“No need for that,” Rose said with a laugh. “You just remember who your friends are while you’re sorting things out. You may need some allies, and there are times we might need to call on you for assistance as well.”
“I see. Sort of ‘Someday I owe you a little favor.’ Right?” Griffen said.
“Something like that. But without the hokey sound track.” The woman smiled. “Now, you go along home. You won’t have any trouble sleeping now that we’ve talked.”
Griffen was leaving the Square before it occurred to him that he hadn’t said anything to Rose about not being able to sleep. He turned and looked back, but couldn’t see her anywhere.
“Hey, Grifter.”
He spun around to find Jerome approaching.
“Jeez! You startled me, Jerome,” he said. “Don’t sneak up on me that way.”
“Since when was walking down the street ‘sneaking up on you’?” Jerome said. “I swung by your place to see if you were still up, but when you didn’t answer I thought you were already asleep. I was just going to have one last one and call it a night.”
“Sorry,” Griffen said. “I guess I’m just a little jumpy. I was just talking with one of your voodoo people and I’ll admit, it spooked me a bit.”
“Really? Who was it?”
“She said she was a voodoo queen, name of Rose. She gave me these beads to…what is it?”
Jerome was staring at him.
“Excuse me. Did you say ‘Rose’?” he said softly.
“That’s how she introduced herself,” Griffen said. “Why? Is she someone important?”
“Grifter,” Jerome said carefully. “Rose has been dead over eight years now.”
The beads suddenly felt very cold around Griffen’s neck.
“I don’t like that. No, suh. I don’t like that one bit.”
Mose was pacing back and forth in his living room as Griffen and Jerome watched. Griffen noticed that the more upset the old man got, the more he slipped into a black southern accent.
“I don’t know,” he said. “She seemed nice enough to me.”
“I’m not talkin’ ’bout Rose,” Mose said sharply. “She was always a fine lady. I’m talkin’ ’bout what she told you. ’Bout the animal folks gettin’ stirred up against you.”