One Blood by Qwantu Amaru, Stephanie Casher Read Free Book Online Page A

daughter, Melinda, threw herself from the roof of the Lafitte mansion on her eighteenth birthday. Randy combed through account after account of who was born to whom, who married who, and who died when. A dark trend emerged; Melinda’s suicide had started something.
    The more he read, the more he became convinced that fate put this knowledge into his hands at the precise moment when he could appreciate its significance. It was as if his mother were reaching out to him from behind death’s curtain and pointing the way.
     
     
    * * * * *
     
     
    “ Today is my eighteenth birthday,” Randy concluded.
    “ And you want your father to die three days from now, just like Luc Lafitte, am I right?” Madame Deveaux asked.
    Randy nodded.
    “ What if you’re wrong? What if the curse doesn’t work that way?”
    Randy hadn’t considered this, but couldn’t let her know that. “Well…if it doesn’t work…I expect a full refund.”
    Madame Deveaux laughed. “You really have no idea what you’re getting yourself into, do you?”
    Randy suppressed the urge to lunge across the table and choke her laughs quiet. “Look, there are a hundred so-called fortune tellers in this town. Are you going to help me or not?”
    Madame Deveaux straightened. At once, she appeared taller and more present. Randy felt her essence envelop him from all sides, even though she never moved.
    “ I am no fortune teller, boy,” she said. “I am mambo …ahh, I see you know this word, yes?”
    He nodded slowly. “So…you are a voodoo priestess?”
    “ Yes. Now you know what and who you are dealing with. Do you still wish to proceed?”
    “ Yea-yes,” he stammered.
    “ Very well, Randy,” she replied after a moment. “Come back tomorrow afternoon and I will have everything you need.”
    Plodding down the stairs, Randy couldn’t remember when he had told her his name.
    “ Oh man, am I glad to see you!” Bill exclaimed as Randy stepped out of the building. “What the hell took you so long?”
    Randy’s head buzzed. Madame Deveaux’s incense had done a number on him. “What do you mean? How long was I gone?”
    “ Nearly two hours!”
    That long?
    “ Well? What did she say?” Bill asked.
    “ She said that I should get rid of any and all chicken shit friends.”
    “ Come on, man. What did she really say?”
    In three days, Joseph is a dead man.
    “ Ran? You with me buddy?”
    Randy looked over at Bill. “I need a drink. Then I’ll tell you all about it.” Randy stared back at the sign – GOOD FORTUNES.
    Am I really going to go through with this?
    He visualized his mother’s kind face and felt his jaw muscles clench painfully. For the first time in years he felt the compulsion to bleed himself.
    “ Okay, no problem,” Bill replied. “Hey, cheer up…it’s still your day for another coupla’ hours. Let’s make the most of it.”
    Randy allowed Bill to wrap his arm around his shoulder and lead him back into the lights of the French Quarter.
     
     
    * * * * *
     
     
    Over the next three days, Randy followed Madame Deveaux’s instructions without exception. She told him that sometime after midnight on the third day, Joseph would do something completely out of character. That would be Randy’s cue that the curse was in effect. Just when he’d convinced himself that he’d been swindled, his father burst out of the front door of their hotel, a drunken, disheveled mess.
    Randy suppressed his impulse to call the whole thing off and followed his father instead.
    Joseph was clearly scared out of his mind. The stench of his fear hung in the air like a trail of breadcrumbs as Randy lagged behind him.
    Before long, Joseph reached Jackson Square.
    Randy found a spot where he could observe without being seen. He watched as his father knelt next to Andrew Jackson’s statue and placed a revolver in his mouth.
    It’s working. He’s really going to do it.
    Joseph looked up as if in prayer and a tall, black man emerged from the