Ishmael Reed - Mumbo Jumbo

I had to…you see she had a gun.

But there’s no gun here, sir.

Well a man, he was her accomplice; he escaped through the fire escape.

Could you describe him, sir.

He was a muscular Black, a huge stud if I ever saw 1.

The rookie walked over to the window from which 1 could look down upon the alley separating Charlotte’s building from the next 1 over. There were huge white feathers lying on the sill of the ½-opened window as if a large bird had struggled to get through.

But there’s no fire escape here, sir.

Look, are you disputing my word, Biff Musclewhite says, squeezing the glass in his hand.

No, sir, no sir. I’m going to call the coroner.

The rookie leaves the room.

Biff Musclewhite thinks I should have called the coroner in the first place. He was a bowling partner; he’d see that this rookie was transferred. He’d fix him; he’d transfer him to Harlem.

VooDoo Generals Routed

Peralte Slain By

Valiant Marine

Hunt What’s His Name

WHAT DID ALL OF these things mean? She grins and takes a sip of coffee. A knock at the door. PaPa LaBas and T Malice enter the room.

Earline, have you heard? Berbelang…

She doesn’t know what they are talking about. She collapses to the floor. T Malice lifts her and takes her into the other room. LaBas lifts the phone and calls Herman.

Herman?

Yes, what’s up?

Earline. I think she picked up one…the one with the red dress on. The one known in Brazil as Yemanjá; you know what W. C. Handy called her: St. Louis woman.

Be right down. I’ll bring some sisters and some food.

LaBas gives him the address and hangs up.

T Malice is standing in the door leading to the bedroom.

Pop, there’s a man in there asleep.

O brother, let me talk to him.

He went into the bedroom, T Malice following close behind.

EARLINE IS ASLEEP BUT her eyelashes are fluttering which means that the 1 she picked up would soon be active again. He hopes that Black Herman will hurry.

Hey man? LaBas said, shaking the sleeping trolley car operator.

Wha…wha…The man begins to open his eyes.

Hey man, wake up, hurry.

The trolley car operator wakes up slowly and looks about the room. Hey man, if it’s your wife…look, she flirted with me. I didn’t…

No need to explain but you’d better leave. We have an emergency with her, no questions asked.

The man climbs out of the bed and begins to put on his clothes. You know, nothing like this never happened to me. I’m happily married and have 3 children. I’ve never laid an eye on another woman.

You couldn’t help yourself. If you hadn’t given in to her requests she would have destroyed you.

I don’t understand.

Look, I’m PaPa LaBas, here’s my card, LaBas says, giving the trolley car operator his card. The trolley car operator walks toward the door, self-conscious and embarrassed.

Come by my office sometime when you get a chance. I’ll explain it all to you. The trolley car operator nods to LaBas and leaves.

Just as the trolley car operator leaves the room, the sisters and Black Herman enter. They talk, and then leave T Malice in the living room to answer the telephone and to keep out friends who might come to inquire about Berbelang. The others go into the bedroom.

The old sisters, steady, sober professionals that they are, gather about Earline’s bed. They are dressed in white uniforms: white dresses white stockings and white shoes. They wear white nurses’ caps.

A lavender mixture of High John Conqueror compound, orris root, sandalwood, talcum plain, is floating up from the incense burners they’ve placed about the room. The shades have been drawn. The designs on the window shades are those of hearts pierced by daggers. 1 sister is sprinkling oil of white rose about the room. Another is in the bathroom drawing hot water into a tub while an assistant sprinkles it with basil leaves. Black Herman is in the kitchen wearing a white apron, mixing a solution of rice, flour, eggs, crème de menthe, juices of 2 pigeons and 2 chickens, Madeira wine, raw brought to a liquified boil.

It will be ready in a few minutes, Herman yells to LaBas, standing in the bedroom. Then I will prepare the cocktail.

Earline was beginning to stir.

Earline, LaBas calls. Can you hear me?

She gives him a smile so wicked in its content that it makes his flesh crawl. He touches the back of her left hand softly; she digs her nails into his right hand, she is tense like a cat. LaBas plays it cool; he withdraws his hand and a sister wraps a white bandage about it. The sisters, although they have not seen anything like this before, do not reveal their surprise but keep on doing The Work.

Girl, LaBas begins to speak. Why don’t you leave Earline alone? The child has enough troubles. Her man is dead and she loved him. You understand that, don’t you? You got 1 man to flirt with you and make love to you, now why don’t you return to where you came from. There’s no need to worry her like this. Pick somebody else.

Earline slowly moves back from the edge of the bed. She smiles at the sisters who look at 1 another and return the gesture.

How did you know it was me?

Look, we may not have the legitimate Assons but we’ve been called and we can Work-It-On-Out too.

Man, Earline says, waving him away in a high piercing West Indian accented voice, there ain’t nothing no American HooDoo man or whatever you call yourselves can do for me.

I wouldn’t be too sure about that, Black Herman says entering the room carrying 2 huge glasses containing his recipe on a tray.

What’s that that man has in his hands? Earline asks, reaching for the glasses on the tray from where she lies on the bed clad only in a black slip and panties.

Herman recoils, setting the tray supporting the cocktails on a table in the room.

O no you don’t. You don’t lay your hands on this until you promise to depart from this girl’s body.

A sister has entered into another phase of the ceremony. Clarence Williams is singing some mellow blues. She has placed the record on a Victrola. People begin to sway a bit along with the music.

What’s that sound? Earline asks Black Herman.

It’s a loa that Jes Grew here in America among our people. We call it Blues.

It sounds nice, Earline says, climbing from the bed in her bare-feet and approaching Herman. LaBas and the women move out of the way. She puts her arms about Black Herman’s neck and starts to move with him. As they dance about the table where the tumblers of the drink rest, cherries held by straws leaning on the rim, she tries to reach for the cocktail.

Herman pushes her hand away.

You better let me have that, nigger, before I put a hurtin’ on you you won’t like.

Black Herman walks to the bed, picks up her scarf, and casts it to the floor where it becomes a snake. He moves a fingertip in a teasing manner about the snake’s head. A snake with sufficient deadly venom to fell an elephant.

Anybody can do that, Earline taunts. You don’t have what it takes, Black American man, she says, moving again toward the tray.

Black Herman grabs her by the arms and flings her onto the bed. She starts to spring at him but before she can he swiftly moves the spread of hearts-and-daggers design out from under her and she lies curled-up, in thin air, about 2 feet between her and the top of the bed. Black Herman known as “an international heartbreaker,” the man who while on the trip to Africa hypnotized a lion, is now the first American to give a Crisis de loa to a loa.

Earline twists in the air, confused.

Put me down! Put me down!

Black Herman reaches over to where she is suspended and puts his arm about her waist, gently bringing her body toward him like an intelligent fisherman reeling in, causing only a slight ripple in the water, enchanting the fish. Black Herman is a Fish Bewitcher.