Hoodwinked Read online

  Welcome back readers…

  Been awhile.

  Jasmine

  The sound of a dog barking in the nearby distance prompted me to lean back. Checking to make sure my brother’s old Honda Accord was still safely parked in front of the apartment building. Everything about this place told me I didn’t belong. The cracks in the ground, loud music, and heavy scent of weed. I glanced at the paper in my hand. Reading the instructions over, and over before knocking four times. Making sure to pause between each knock to make them separate. According to the email, the neighborhood looked shady in itself, but I kept my shades over my eyes, and looked around the dingy apartment complex. Wood looked chewed, and chipped on all sides, and the dark green doors with the gold plated numbers on the front looked worn out, scratched, and tampered with.

  Apartment B105

  Evening was trying to set in as I looked at the note again.

  Knock four times with space in between. Do NOT knock more than four.

  DO NOT ring the doorbell.

  Stand with both feet in front of the doormat, not on top.

  If a weird man answers the door, do not be alarmed.

  No refunds. Come prepared, come open, and willing.

  Must not be allergic to cats. 4/20 Friendly.

  If you smoke anything else, do so before you come in.

  I was almost tempted to knock again. Surely they didn’t hear my first set of knocks. Yet, just as I was about to raise my hand to the wood, I heard movement behind the door until it swung open. There stood a tall dark brown skinned man with his hair parted into medium-sized braids with rubber bands tied on the end. No shirt on wearing sweats that had paint splatter on them and a scraggly beard with specks of blue paint caught on the hairs. He smiled at me.

  “You here for Miss Delilah, right?” He asked as I took my sunglasses off. Deep voice thick with a southern drawl as he looked back before stepping aside. “I’on mean no harm baby. Come in.”

  “Is she here?” I asked hesitantly. “I paid for a reading---.”

  I watched as a shadowy figure, almost seductive in her walk, came creeping up the hallway as a dark-skinned woman with long thick dreads hanging high in a ponytail. She looked like a human feline. Cat eyes sharp, and slanted wide, and high. Like she could see anything, any quick movement from a distance. Thick in shape with wide hips, and thighs, I almost got caught staring a little too closely until she pointed for me to follow. Cutting a hard glare at the man holding the door.

  “Would you put on a shirt?” She fussed. Voice almost showing little to no emotion, face a blank canvas, she rolled her eyes before looking at me again. “I don’t have all day and night. Come in, and shut the door.”

  I followed Delilah into the apartment, seeing boxes everywhere. Black trash bags filled with clothes, and large paintings propped up against the wall. Either they were moving away, or unpacking, but there was just enough space in the living room by the sliding door leading out to the balcony where she made me sit down in front of her.

  “Very pretty,” she noted, grabbing a small hand-painted bowl from behind her. “What are your parents’ makeup?”

  “My mother is...Cuban and Angolan. My father is Puerto Rican, Italian, and plain black,” I started.

  “Beautiful mix. You smell like the ocean herself. Surrounded by so much water,” she muttered to herself. Moving things around her until she faced me. Hands out, decorated with colorful bracelets and trinkets. Long fingers stretched out towards me, slowly wiggling about before she closed her eyes with a deep sigh.

  “Pisces?” She questioned without opening her eyes. Surely she looked up my name somewhere and saw my birth date.

  “Yes, I am.”

  I sat awkwardly, waiting for something to happen as she remained quiet. The only thing you could hear was her boyfriend moving around the apartment, taping up boxes, and stuffing clothes into a bag. Delilah suddenly opened her eyes before reaching around her to grab a stack of colorful tarot cards. Hands loosely around the deck, she hands them to me. Signaling for me to shuffle them myself.

  “I’ve never done this before,” I reminded her as she looked at her nails without a care of what I was saying or doing. I looked down at the cards with different pictures and words, trying to jumble them together and straighten them out before she had her hand out to take them once more.

  “Mmmm,” she hummed, placing the cards in neat order. One by one, she stared at the card before laying it flat on the floor. Some were flipped, others turned sideways before she read. Each card decorated with black artwork, black kings, and queens… black moons, and bright stars with sharp swords, and others adorned in jewels with hidden faces.

  “What does this mean?” I asked, eyeing the one black creature with the horns. She didn’t say anything. Just studied the cards for a second before grabbing a notebook on the other side of her with a pen, and began to write.

  “Do you have any questions for me before we begin?” She asked without looking up. I could feel the words spill out of my mouth.

  “Are you really a witch?”

  There was a lingering silence. Almost like a faint clock or watch hidden somewhere in the apartment. I could hear the ticking noise time our interaction as she gently moved her thick hanging locs back from her shoulder. Slanted feline eyes on the cards before her.

  “Yes although that is not my preferred term. I’m a spiritualist. Root doctor. Magic of all trade and form so to speak.”

  “Do you believe in God?”

  Just as soon as the question fell out, I immediately retracted out of respect but she shook her head.

  “I believe in energies and spirits. Whether people want to put blonde hair, and blue eyes to make themselves feel better about their beliefs or what they can’t see, is not my problem. I believe in what I can feel. Not in what I can or can’t see. God or otherwise…”

  Silence…

  She was talking in circles, or maybe I just didn’t understand the answer but that same ticking noise gradually grew softer as I cleared my throat.

  “Are...are you from here?” I reached, looking for anything to ask at this point.

  “I was raised in New Jersey, and South Carolina. Stayed in New Orleans for work, and now I’m here…” She pointed to a card with a smirk like she was laughing at something only she could see before shaking her head.

  “This is going to be an interesting year…” She sighed before looking at me. “Tell me about yourself Jasmine.”

  “What do you want to know?” I asked, watching her write aggressively on the paper. Glancing from the cards to the paper like she was writing a report on her findings.

  “Whatever you’re willing to share I suppose,” she said, hearing the sarcasm in her voice. I didn’t pay 800 bucks for a therapy session, but then again...I don’t know what I paid for exactly.

  “I um...Well my name is Jasmine. I am 23 years old. My mother is Caribbean, and African...my father was born, and raised here as a first-generation American, in Atlanta. Doesn’t speak Spanish that well anymore, but he understands it. Especially when my mother is yelling at him,” I smiled. “I’m the youngest with an older brother who’s a rapper. My best friend is Nasia, and she’s….She’s….” Thinking to myself before dropping my head. Realizing, I wasn’t ready to say what I already knew, out loud but Delilah spoke for me.

  “She’s sleeping with your boyfriend,” she cut in before putting the pad down as she looked directly at me. “I asked about you. Not those around you.”

  I started to open my mouth, waiting for the words to escape. All the things about me, and who I am...What I like to do, or want to do, fell before they could leave my lips. Delilah just stared, waiting impatiently before nodding.

  “So I’m going to tell you what I know
so far, and then we can move forward with what could possibly happen. I know you’re not happy in your relationship, and neither is he but he’s already doing something about it. Cheating on you with multiple women, am I correct? You two don’t even sleep together.”

  I stared at her, feeling my eyes swell with budding tears.

  “You’re not insecure, but you’re sheltered. Parents probably didn’t even let you play outside. Grew up with tutors around the clock. Private school, horseback riding, and traveling. All the things that come with coming from wealth of a high-class family. With being sheltered comes fear of the unknown, lack of knowledge. Certain innocence about you. Yet you lack confidence despite being full of it at the same time. It’s hidden in your beauty that you don’t recognize yet but others do. That’s a good thing,” she pointed. “Makes you even more beautiful. Others see it, and those same others, are envious of it. You speak when spoken to, and never like to draw attention to yourself. Shows respect and a great upbringing but a boring, or lack of personality----.”

  “I’m sorry?” I let out, confused at the personal attack. “I’m not---.”

  “You hold on to your friend because she’s all you have left. When you want company or someone to talk to, she’s the only one you can rely on to talk to you while sucking your man’s dick---.”

  “I didn’t sign up for this,” shaking my head as I started to get up.

  “The reading is almost over. Sit down,” she demanded as I tightened my lips in irritation. “You don’t know me, I don’t know you. Somehow we are connected or run in the same circles, but I haven’t figured how just yet. I can tell you yearn for more out of life. You paid for me to show you how to get it. Either you’re interested, or you’re not. Get your money’s worth, I assure you will.”

  There goes that lingering ticking silence that settled between us again. She stared at me with all the confidence in her craft. I looked around, trying to find where the small tick, tick noise was coming from before settling back in front of her. Adjusting my sore legs to tuck behind me as she tore off a blank sheet of paper. Splitting it into three pieces before handing it to me.

  “Write down three things you want in life. Not what you want now, but in life. Something to last you...Something to follow you into this life and the next, and the one after.”

  Staring at the black ink pen, I grabbed it as she gathered a large bowl, and began dumping powder, and herbs inside. Hands mixing and crushing it together as the bangles and trinkets on her wrist jingled, and chimed in unison. Eyes only on me.

  “It’s going to be a full moon tonight. The energy is perfect for this reading. Ancestors are in your favor. What do you want?”

  Looking at the blank paper, my mind began to race with ideas.

  “Most people say money...Health is something I cannot control or manipulate. Some people say they want their family to be better off...I've had women say children. Fertility. Love. To never want to feel lonely ever again. Men ask to be happy, to never know struggle, to live a good life…. Be careful how you choose your words...everything we say, we speak, we’re putting it into existence. The English language is nothing but a tricky spell of complicated magic.”

  I began writing on the first piece of paper, thinking of the order in which I wanted things to happen before handing them off to her.

  “What do they say?” She asked instead, still mixing, and kneading the mixture in the bowl.

  “I um…” clearing my throat. “I want true friends...A great set of friends that mean me well, that I can trust. Have a good time with, and that I can learn something from. All walks, and different shapes, colors, and backgrounds. Doesn’t matter. Just want friends to last me my entire life. Even if it's just one. Someone true to me, and has my best interest.”

  Her brows raised before nodding.

  “I want...sex,” I laughed, looking shyly away. “All the sex I can stand. The freakiest of sex...My wildest fantasies coming true. Just want to feel good, and I want true love. My soulmate. Whoever I’m meant to be with, I want them to find me, and save me, and provide me with all three things I’m asking for now.”

  “Clever. No money?” She suggested. “I can make you wealthy, rich beyond your wildest dreams on your own, without your parents to rely on the moment you step out that door.”

  “If I have those three things, I already see myself as wealthy so no. Money is not the end all be all. I won’t know struggle if I have those three things, no matter the lifetime I’m in. Everything else will fall into place.”

  Delilah grabbed the pieces of paper, took a lighter and began to burn them in the bowl.

  “To friendship,” she said out loud. “Good set of friends… Take this and release it outside in the air,” handing me a small bag. “Now.”

  “Oh now?” Taking the bag as I stood up. Seeing she was pointing to the balcony. I quickly slid the glass door back, seeing two large cats. One black, the other white laying on a plush bed in mid-sleep as I popped the bag open. Looked like pepper but it smelled like something else.

  “Release it, no matter the direction. The right person will catch it.”

  Dumping the bag out, I watched most of the pieces hit the ground before sliding towards the edge with the wind until it blew away with the current.

  “For all the sex you can stand. All the orgasms, you may or may not get...I’m assuming this has nothing to do with your boyfriend?”

  I shook my head as I sat back down in front of her.

  “Good. He’s living his life. You should too. Bennnnn!” She yelled out suddenly. “Come here please!”

  I watched her boyfriend come walking out from the bedroom, on the phone with his neck length braids pulled back in a ponytail with a basic baseball hat on. Sweats that barely clung to his waist showing he wasn’t wearing any underwear underneath. Delilah kept her eyes on me as I suddenly looked away. Hoping she didn’t see I was staring at his apparent junk.

  “You’re straight, or are you curious about women as well?” She asked as my mouth dropped.

  “No, no...No I’m not----.”

  “Strictly sexual. No harm if you’re curious.”

  She gripped her boyfriend’s thigh, eyes still on me. Waiting for a response that never came. I was straight for obvious reasons but the look in her eyes told me to just go where the wind blows. To live a little.

  “Yeah, we’re packing up now. I’ll be down at the shop in the next few hours or so ...uh huh,” her boyfriend spoke as Delilah pulled out a pair of scissors. “Yeah man, thank you. Thank you. Crazy ass barely said yeah without wildin’ up on me.”

  Delilah pulled at his sweats as he continued to talk. Revealing this patch of tight black coils. Seeing her nails gently rub, and comb through them before taking the scissors. Her boyfriend seemed not to be bothered by her cutting off his sprinkled pieces of pubic hair.

  “And one for the ladies,” she muttered, attempting to reach to her jeans when I stopped her.

  “Just men,” I blurted out. Not knowing what she wanted me to do with these hairs. “Just men...and...I don’t---.”

  “He’s clean. Something from the sexual organ. Normally I require sperm but you might turn up pregnant by the wrong man,” she said, cutting the hairs up into fine pieces to dump in the bowl.

  There it goes again. I looked around, searching for the source of the ticking noise that started to grow louder like we were inside a timer.

  “Is there a clock nearby or?” I asked, voice barely above the average tone.

  “Hurry this up Delilah, the truck is on the way,” Ben said, walking off with his fingers already moving to text.

  She didn’t respond. Just stared at her fingers, eyeing all the multiple rings before pulling off a special silver band. Slipped it in a cup, everything in the bowl from the paper to the pubic hair was dumped in the cup. Mixed it with an unknown brown liquid until everything disappeared and dissolved except for the ring that stayed at the bottom.

  “The ring is a symbol of true l
ove. The reason why it didn’t dissolve or disappear when combined with everything else. Represents stability, endurance, consistency, all things related to the heart. It won’t tarnish, or lose its color...Remains the same if it's real, and true,” mixing the liquid with her eyes on me. “The first girl I met had a similar story to yours...Only she was pregnant by an asshole she had a one night stand with. Fiancé left her for her best friend, and now she’s with child by a man she doesn’t know.”

  “Is there...a good outcome out of her story? A happy ending?” I hesitantly asked. Staring at the drink wondering if she was going to make me drink it. I hope not. Delilah simply shrugged with a frown.

  “Her story is about to begin like yours...When I first saw her, I saw her entire life before my eyes...Man she falls in love with, having her back. Protecting her heart, body, soul, and mind…”

  “It was the same man from the one night…”

  Words trailed off as she nodded.

  “Same asshole...She’s been promised to him since he was a boy, and he didn’t realize it. So the woman ends up giving birth to a beautiful girl that looks just like him…. The baby’s father finds out. Angry at first, but eventually falls so madly, deeply in love with her as a mother, as a woman...as his wife. Beautiful black family, but when I first saw her...she was anything but. Lowest point you could ever imagine. Like she was ready to give up on life. You, and her are connected somehow. Not just in stories. ”

  “Ohh,” I let out softly, feeling sympathy. Wondering if that’s how I looked in her eyes. I knew I was supposed to marry my boyfriend at some point. “I’m hoping my story...my time starts before I’m set to marry my boyfriend,” I blurted out. “In our family, old money still arranges to be with old money. They may not call it arranged marriage, and you still have a choice of your own, but parents are persistent, and my family…”