The Heart Remembers (16 page)

But the effort wasn't a success. For she could not quite rid her mind of the memory of bits and pieces of what she had heard about Minnie-Ola and her “kunjurs.” Jim had said that when someone hated an enemy and wished to destroy him, he had Minnie-Ola make a small wax image of the enemy, and thrust pins into it; and the enemy sickened and died.

Shelley forced a laugh at such a thought. Yet Jim had said that queer things happened and that people had been unable to explain them, and that, because of the efficacy of her charms and voodoo, Minnie-Ola was the most powerful person in the community.

Of course, Shelley told herself as her nerves once more grew quiet, the only enemy she had in Harbour Pines was Selena; and surely no sane person could possibly believe that Selena Durand, the self-elected “great lady” of Harbour Pines, would stoop to traffic with an old Negro kunjur-woman.

Still, the doll had been real; and it had not got into her bed alone and unaided. There had been some human agency, both to create the small, hideous thing and to place it where she had found it. She was convinced that the doll had been the work of Minnie-Ola; but at whose order it had been created and placed where she had found it, she could not guess. She went to bed at last, but not to sleep until well into the small hours.

She was out in the side yard the next morning when Marian came into the kitchen. Leaning from the kitchen window, Marian called, “Hi, what's up? Lose something?”

Shelley straightened, convinced that the doll was gone. She had thrown it from her window, and it must have fallen somewhere nearby, but though she had combed the area, there was no trace of it. So there
had
been someone lurking in the shrubbery last night, who had watched her fling the doll out of the window and who had carried it away. Shelley was no longer frightened, in the warm golden morning; but her anger was burning deep as she came into the kitchen and faced a wide-eyed Marian.

“Did you ever hear of Minnie-Ola, the kunjur-woman?”

Marian's eyes went wider than ever.

“Well, of course. I've also heard of many other well known characters in these parts. Although I wouldn't
want it to get around so the school board would be likely to hear it, I've had my fortune told by the old girl. She's a wiz. The things that creature told me no one in the world save myself in person could have known.”

“Did you ever see one of her voodoo dolls?”

“No, thanks, and I'd just as soon not. I hear they're pretty vile.”

“They are. I can assure you of that. I found one in my bed last night.”

“Heavens to Betsy!” gasped Marian, almost dropping the coffee percolator. “Whose toes have
you
been stepping on, to get old Minnie-Ola on your trail?”

“I am not
quite
sure.”

Marian eyed her sharply.

“See here, Shelley, the whole thing is just a mass of silly superstition.”

“Of course. You don't think I'm frightened, do you?”

“Well, I think I'd be.”

“I'm so angry I could explode, that's all.”

“Well, here, pull yourself together and have some coffee.”

“I threw the thing out of the window, Marian, but it isn't there now.”

“Well, of course not. Whoever put it in your bed hung around to watch your reaction, and when you threw it out of the window, they simply retrieved it and took it away.”

There was an uneasy note in her voice and Shelley looked at her sharply.

“You think, don't you, that whoever put it there simply took it away to await a chance to stick it around somewhere where I won't be so likely to find it?”

“I'm afraid so.”

“Afraid?”

“Oh, now don't fly off the handle, Shelley. I agree with you that the whole thing is silly and all that. It provokes anger instead of fear in people like us who have been educated above belief in such superstitions. But just the same, there are a lot of people in these parts that believe profoundly in Minnie-Ola's ‘powers of darkness.' Her services aren't cheap; she'd ask a lot for one of those dolls and the evil charm that guarantees its success. Whoever bought it from her in the first place isn't going to throw it away without at least giving its voodoo another chance to work. I'd say it would turn up again where you least expect it.”

“I got the same idea,” Shelley admitted grimly.

“Shelley,” Marian burst out impulsively, “who could possibly hate you enough to want Minnie-Ola to ‘cross the fingers' at you?”

“I don't know,” Shelley admitted. “But I intend to find out.”

She turned toward the door and Marian said swiftly, “Hi, sit down here and drink your coffee or I won't let you go a step outside this house.”

Obediently, Shelley sipped the coffee and Marian watched her worriedly.

“Look here, Shelley, promise me you won't do anything foolish?” she begged impulsively. “After all, Harbour Pines isn't exactly a city, and there's only a handful of white people here entirely untouched by the superstitions of Minnie-Ola and her devotees. Do be careful!”

“Why, Marian, you silly!” Shelley stared at her and laughed. “Of course I'll be careful. I just want to find out something. And how dare you doubt our police protection? There's Jim, you know.”

“Sure, and he's an elegant guy and I like him. But he's one man!”

“You run along to school and look after all the little fractions and decimals and things. I'll be all
right.”

“You'll tell me all about it tonight?”

“Of course. Only, Marian, let's keep this strictly between ourselves, shall we? I'd rather it didn't get out. I'd feel such a fool.”

“You're not going to tell Jim?”

“Of course not.”

“I think you should.”

“Later. Mind if I borrow Jessamine, since you're riding herd in the school bus today anyway?”

“Oh, Lord, that's right. It
is
my day to ride the bus and try to keep the kids from falling out. Sure, take Jessamine, by all means. And for Pete's sake, watch yourself,” pleaded Marian. “Remember, there are plenty of people—not all black, either—in Harbour Pines who, if they received a
billet-doux
from Minnie-Ola, would read it en route somewhere else but fast!”

Shelley waved to her as she drove away.

She had no difficulty in finding Minnie-Ola's cabin. It would have been difficult to live in Harbour Pines any length of time without knowing where Minnie-Ola lived: on a narrow winding lane, at the very edge of the black, mysterious-looking swamp, with its ancient cypress trees. A most fitting spot, Shelley told herself grimly as she parked in front of the cabin, for a witch to live.

It was a cabin like all the others occupied by Negroes in and around Harbour Pines, neither better nor worse. To Shelley, a long line of freshly washed clothes flapping in the brisk morning air behind the cabin added a homely incongrous note to all the dark things she had heard about Minnie-Ola.

As she sat in her car in fromt of the cabin, the open door was suddenly filled with a woman whose appearance made Shelley gasp. For she must have stood close to six feet tall. She was gaunt; her skin was stretched tightly over prominent cheekbones, and
in color was a deep, almost golden yellow. Her eyes were enormous and dark and piercing. She was dressed as the other Negro women dressed, in neat percale and an apron; but her enormous feet were bare and there was an unexpected arrogance in her as she strode down to the gate and stood looking at Shelley, an impish, almost malevolent merriment in her eyes.

“Are you Minnie-Ola, the kunjur-woman?” demanded Shelley.

A flicker of mirth touched the ugly yellow face.

“I's Minnie-Ola, de washwoman. I don't know whut yo' mean 'bout no kunjur. Whut's white folks doin' messin' wid kunjur?” Her tone was insolent. “Say me yo' name, white gal.”

“I'm Miss Kimbrough and I publish the newspaper in Harbour Pines. And I come to tell you that I very much resent your idiotic attempt to frighten me with one of your ridiculous voodoo dolls in my bed. If anything like that ever happens again, I shall see to it that you are punished severely. Do you understand?”

The woman's eyes were derisive, mocking.

“Doan' know whut yo' talkin' 'bout, white gal,” she said contemptuously. “Seems to me lak' yo' too old to be playin' wid dolls.”

“The kind of doll that was put into my bed is not the kind one plays with.”

“How come you' say I put it in yo' bed? How come I wan' botheh yo' when I ain't neveh seed yo' befo'?”

“I don't think
you
put the doll there, Minnie-Ola.” Shelley forced herself to speak as calmly as she could. “I feel quite sure you didn't, though I'm equally sure you made it. If you'll tell me whom you made it for—”

Once again there was that flicker of derision on the yellow face.

“How come somebody wan' cross de fingehs at yo', white gal? Who yo' been gettin' rile up? Yo' steal
some gal's man?”

“The only enemy I have in these parts who would stoop to such a thing or would hate me enough to want to is Selena Durand,” Shelley said. And for just a fleeting instant there was a startled look in Minnie-Ola's eyes that told her she had guessed right.

“De Lawd he'p mah soul an' body.” Minnie-Ola was piously shocked. “Yo' sho' crazy, white gal! Whut Miss S'lena want wid voodoo? Whut she wan' wid
yo
'? She wan' git shet o' anybody she jes' tell him to tek' his foot in his hand and trabbel!”

“I don't scare easily, Minnie-Ola.”

“Effen it was me and' I thought Miss S'lena was atter me, I'd be long time gone.”

“If there are any voodoo manifestations, Minnie-Ola—”

Anger blacked out Minnie-Ola's derision and she took a threatening forward step, her hands doubled menacingly.

“Whut yo' gwine do, white gal? I tells yo'. Nuthin'. I owns mah place hyeh; an' nobody gwine mek' me move lessen I wants to—and I don'. Now git movin' fo' I gits mad.”

Shelley hated herself for it, but she could not control the tremor of fear that swept her at the woman's sheer malevolence. It was an added cause of humiliation that as she drove away she heard Minnie-Ola laughing boisterously. …

She was halfway back to town before on a sudden impulse she turned the car about and headed toward Pinelands. She did not stop to consider, to think, to reach a decision. She knew now, fantastic as it seemed, that somehow Selena was mixed up in the business of the voodoo doll. And she was too ashamed of her flight from Minnie-Ola to stop and reconsider. She was determined to get to the bottom of the business without more ado.

She went up the steps of the once handsome old
house at Pinelands and rang the bell, though the door stood open in the friendly hospitable fashion of the community.

It was Selena herself who came to the door. Her face went taut and gray at sight of Shelley, and Shelley could have sworn there was a momentary flash of something that might have been fear in her eyes.

“What do you want?” she asked sharply.

“Good morning,” said Shelley politely, but the anger that had burned in her heart since first she had seen that vile little doll kept her voice harsh. “I've just come from Minnie-Ola's, Miss Durand.”

There was shock in Selena's eyes but her voice steadied.

“Really? I'm amazed that one of your education should waste time with a kunjur-woman,” said Selena icily.

“I'm not so sure that the time was wasted,” said Shelley. “I went to see her about that hideous little voodoo doll I found in my bed last night.”

Selena's thin-lipped mouth curled in a little smile that was derisive, mocking.

“Don't tell me anyone as popular as you could possibly have an enemy who would seek Minnie-Ola's help in driving you out of town.”

“It
is
ridiculous, isn't it? Ridiculous, but not very pleasant. So it's got to stop.”

“Oh? But why come to me about it?”

“Because, of course, you are the one who arranged it.”

Dark, angry color burned in Selena's face and her eyes blazed. And yet there was something in the woman's haughty outburst that did not quite ring true.

“Why, you—how dare you accuse me? You impertinent, outrageous creature! Have you no pride? Why don't you go away? You know you're not wanted here. This should convince you.”

“Let's not go into all that again, Miss Durand.” Shelley's composure grew as Selena's melted, and now Shelley's manner was cool, almost pleasant. “Now that we understand each other, I'm sure that I shall be spared any further attention from Minnie-Ola. You will see to that, won't you?”

And before Selena could manage an answer to that, Shelley turned and went swiftly down the steps and got into the little car. The motor stirred, but before she could shift gears she heard Jim's voice and saw him come striding toward her from the back of the house.

“Hi, what's the hurry?” he demanded, and leaned on the door of the car and studied her curiously. “To what are we indebted for the honor of this much appreciated early morning visit?”

Shelley saw Selena hovering in the doorway, and knew that in the clear morning air her voice would carry perfectly to Selena's undoubtedly straining ears.

“Oh, there was a bit of gossip going the rounds,” said Shelley lightly. “I thought I'd check it with Miss Durand.”

Jim studied her, and then he flung a glance at his aunt. As he turned back to Shelley, his jaw hardened.

“There's something going on,” he stated flatly. “I don't know why you have your knife out for my aunt, but you may as well know here and now that I won't have it.”

Shelley went pale, and her eyes blazed.

“Really? Has Miss Durand complained?”