Love In The Cemetery

01 | Papa Doux

Roget, comeh roget,
Roget oodoo, badang-gah
Eenay eenay, ong-ga-wah
Eenay abracadabra
The fire blazing and the water hot
It is time to put something in the pot.

     THE SUN HAD settled below the branches of the large silk-cotton trees. The village was the least of the most welcoming that Marcia had ever visit and as she approached the wooden house of the infamous Papa Doux, she caught the glimpse of a broad, black snake that slithered before the door. Red-head fowls scratched and pecked at the unkempt tuff of grass and malay apple trees towered over the old house. The scenery caused an ominous feeling that made Marcia to regret considering her arrival.

     "Good day." A soft voice said in the distance. Marcia spun on her heels as she spotted a petite girl and responded;

   "There's nothing good about the day, child. Where's the man they call Papa Doux?"

     The girl stood in silence. She played with the buttons of her long, white dress which were matted in mud and dirt.  "Papa not here, yet." She smiled. "But you sit and wait. He'll be here soon."

     "How soon is soon?"

     "I can't be exact but Papa been gone for ten minutes and he usually away for twelve."

     "Ah, I see." Marcia groaned. "I am a very busy lady and a woman like me gets very impatient."

    "You was on the list?" The girl inquired.

     "What list?"

     "So you was not on the list. That means you should expect to wait on him."

     Marcia rolled her eyes and as she was about to separate her lips to mutter another word, she was reminded that she was speaking to a little girl. The woman stood in silence, staring at the girl who plastered a smile below her round nose before being instructed to take a seat beside the wooden door of the house. She watched as the little girl skipped her way off the yard.

     As Marcia waited for a mere three minutes, expecting Papa Doux to open the rusty gate, entwined by vines, and enter, she was interrupted by deafening bangs and loud foot-steps from inside the house. Marcia hurriedly stood and peeked through the cracks of the home. Suddenly, the door slowly creaked open and Marcia scurried away, staring at the limping figure that gingerly stepped out the house. It was a man, dressed in torned, ragged clothes. His hair covered under a turban and around his neck hanged green beads; matching the ones that wrapped around his wrists. He stopped and stared at Marcia who remained dumbfounded.

     "Petit, Petit," he spoke softly, "pour quoi, petit?"

     Marcia knitted her brows.

     "Why are you here, little one?"

     "I-" Marcia stammered, "that woman in Chase Village, is threathening to steal my man." She blurted.

     The man laughed scandalously. "Do you know how many pickneys came to I, Papa Doux, for this same reason?" Marcia shook her head. "Don't worry," he laughed, "Even I have no idea for I have lost track. But tell me-- what is it that your heart desires?"

     "Well, I want  Ms. Hoyte to swell like a frog. I want Ms. Hoyte's nasty ways to get back at her so she can learn to leave my man alone!"

     Papa Doux traced his eyes horizontally along Marcia's body as he nodded his head and smirked. "Well, here is what you need."

     "I'm listening."

     "Get a possession of this Ms. Hoyte and bring it back to me within a weeks time.  But for everytime you see this lady, I need you to chant this." Papa Doux slowly proceeded towards the quivering body of Marcia. He leaned towards her ear as he whispered " Roget, comeh roget..."