Chapter 1: Sonia's New Hobby
"A good time? Oh my God, Melissa, we drank so much that I'm surprised we survived. And you should have seen Sonia--we weren't even there a whole day before she already had this skinny black dude all over her," Cynthia said and her younger sister glared at her.
Cynthia had been my best friend since middle school. She and Sonia had just gotten back from spending a week in Punta Cana for spring break.
"She's just jealous because Andre said that I was the one blessed with magical power, not her," Sonia said.
She had just turned eighteen in February, and Cynthia was my age, twenty, so the trip with Cynthia had marked the first time that either of them could legally drink, thanks to the laws there. Combine that with the fact their parents let them go on the trip without any real adult supervision and I'd known even before they left that they were going to have a wild time.
Cynthia rolled her eyes. "He thought that you were the one blessed with a big white ass is more like it," she said. "He fed you a line and you ate it up."
Sonia wasn't quite fat exactly, but she'd always been on the few pounds-past-curvy side and by contrast her sister Cynthia was slim and fit. If Sonia was a bit chubby it didn't seem to hurt her love life any. If anything, I'd always been impressed by how often it seemed like my friend's foul-mouthed little sister had some good looking guy crushing on her despite her obnoxious behavior.
In a lot of ways the two of them were more different than alike. Where Cynthia had manners and style, her little sister was as crude and foul-mouthed as any skank that had ever slunk away from a trucker's cab after earning twenty dollars the quick way.
"He didn't just want to fuck; he said I had magical powers of attraction. He begged me to let him teach me voodoo."
I'd seen guys use some pathetic lines to work a girl, but never by any claiming to be voodoo educators. "Free voodoo lessons, huh? It sounds like he was really into you. Isn't that sort of reinforcing the stereotype, though?" I asked.
"What stereotype?" Cynthia asked.
"You know, the one about black guys going after chubby white sluts."
"Fuck you, bitch," Sonia said, and she glared at us as we both laughed. "We'll see who's laughing when I finish making my doll."
That was when I first really noticed what Sonia had been working on since I'd arrived. It was tiny doll made from what looked like small twigs arranged in the shape of a stick man.
"You're making a voodoo doll?"
She nodded to me as she continued the process of tying colorful strips of cloth around it, covering it and filling out the shape of a tiny person. She was almost done by the looks of it.
"Ooooh, I'm so scared," Cynthia said with a sarcastic tone that elicited another dirty look from her sister. She turned to me and said, "I'm going to change and fix my hair up a bit before we go."
"You're not serious about this, are you?" I asked Sonia, killing time while I waited for her sister to return.
"Of course I am--I'm making this doll exactly the way Andre taught me."
"You do realize that a guy will tell a girl anything to get in her pants, right?"
"He wasn't saying it because he was hot for me. I mean, well, of course he *was* hot for me, but that wasn't the only reason he wanted to teach me."
"You aren't really dumb enough to believe in voodoo just because some Dominican guy told you that you were 'blessed with magic', are you?"
She kept her eyes down on her work as she continued fastening the little strips of material around the doll, but I could tell from her expression that she was annoyed with me.
"Go ahead and laugh, but Andre is a real voodoo priest, a bokor, and he said that I have powerful magic in me. He isn't Dominican, either, he's Haitian."
"Sonia, if you believe in voodoo then you're dumber than I thought. There is no such thing as magic. You'd have to be disturbed or a moron, to buy into any of that hokum."
"Don't talk too much smack, Melissa. I'm just about done with this doll. All it needs is a little bit of hair from a victim and it's ready to use," she said, looking at me with a little nod.
"Is that a threat? Oh no, I'm quaking in my boots."
"You do *not* want me using this on you, trust me," she said, and her voice had a grave tone to it.
She was so serious that I started to think she really believed she could do voodoo. I sensed much opportunity for future mockery in exploring this with her if I accepted her challenge.
"Actually I do want you to use it on me. Go on; show off your magical power. I'm sure you're going to end up being a famous voodoo priestess someday, and it will be a real honor to have been your first victim," I said, making no attempt to hide my opinion of her magical powers.
"You don't know what you're messing with. I could make your life hell with this," she said, waving the colorful little cloth stick man for emphasis as she spoke.
Sonia watched as I reached up to roll and pinch my hair between my fingers, separating out a few strands. I squinted with a quick blink of pain as I yanked the hairs free. Sonia's eyes went wide as I held them out to her.
"You seriously don't know what you're asking for."
"Really? I think it's pretty obvious, I'm asking for you to do all the hoodoo-voodoo bullshit you want with my hair. Go on, do your worst."
She looked at me, and then down at the hairs. "Fine," she said, and she took the hairs and set about working on her doll.
Sonia wrapped the hairs around the doll's head, one at a time, tying each off in a series of careful knots.
"Done," she announced, holding it up for me to see.
A whiff of something dirty-smelling hit me as I leaned in to review her work, and I recoiled.