Whispers of New Blood

BLUE DEMON

I can still taste death in the air, like cigarette ashes on my tongue. The flames that rose on my father left patches of missing skin. His oils from his body didn’t help with the stiff, leathery, charred-black skin that never grew back. It smelt like bleach and gasoline with a sharp stench of acrid. A vacant body. More like a dissolved shell. Midnight falls and I look out my Hexagon shaped window, thinking to myself. If I only listened to mom, he would still be here. I could smell the sour blood that stained the wooden Oak tree. I could only see the shadows of my late father sprinting through the woods. My mother, Emillia, doesn't believe in the soul running freely after one’s physical body is dismantled. She would say that's the devil's work. When my father would run off doing rituals with los Muertos, My mother would grip her silver, metal cross in her hands and shut her eyes while reciting words that would bring her to weeping tears. “Please forgive him lord, for he has sinned a great sin.” Falling to her knees and crying out to the lord. Though My father Daniel, was a believer of God, but more spiritual than religious. My father believed in blessing the rooms with sage, and praying to God but also to deities. One moment he would pray to God for prosperity, and when God didn’t answer him as fast as he wanted, the deities acted on his timing. It feels like it was only yesterday, where I would smell the musky, savory, forest-like scent, and white smoke coming from a green, thick, grassy wand. “I call upon Elegua, illustrious warrior and divine messenger of the Yoruba pantheon. I ask for your protection and guidance on our journey through life. Grant my family and I health, safety, and success with utmost importance. Bless me with a shield against negative energies or evil eyes that may harm me. Help me defeat any enemies or obstacles in my path so I can use all the amazing gifts life presents. May the sacred act of lighting your candle bring great possibilities into my present and future. Ashe.”

Those were the exact words my father would recite as he would light Eleguas’ candle, the flame would dance in different directions. Once the candle was lit, he would pass around the sage from each room; after entering, he would walk backwards to leave the rooms. Every Monday, he would clean, and make smoked fish. He would take his time to create fine slices into the fish, then set it up on his altar. A trip back from the botanica, and he has everything in threes. Three red candles, three white candles, flowers all over the statue of Elegua. He enjoys spending time with Elegua, there are moments where I can hear my father cry to Elegua, and at times find himself in solitude with Elegua. He always believed that our ancestors knew us best, since they come from our ancestral DNA background. He believed that since each of them has lived on earth at one point of their lives, they have much more wisdom and knowledge than what Chrisitan’s believe. My mother Emelia, a devoted Christian since her primary school years, has always found loopholes to my fathers’ religious beliefs. For instance, if my father were to hang a dreamcatcher in their bedroom, she would hang the cross over them and pray to the highest power, Jesus Christ. My father believed in cleaning ourselves with eggs. He would say “This helps remove evil.” But my mother didn’t like that idea, she says “The only thing that can protect you from any evil is Jesus himself. Not an edible object or anything but the name of Jesus Christ” He would proceed to clean himself and myself with an egg.

“If that’s what you believe, then go ahead, let another man protect you, a man you can’t even see.” He continues to roll the egg all over his clothed body and my clothed body.

“ I can’t see him in this life but I know I will see him in the next life. Jesus has and always will be the kings of all kings, lords of all lords, and our lord and savior. I don’t want Jasmine involved in your spiritual nonsense.”

“Go to bed Mari, I need to speak to your mother, privately.” He said while pointing to the stairs that lead up to my bedroom.

“Should I just stay?”

“Go ahead sweetheart, get to bed, this won’t be long.” She says while nodding her head gently and giving me a warm smile. I returned it.

I make my way up the duck-noise staircase. The gray carpet that led to my room always made me feel uneasy. It felt as though I was in a mental prison whenever I looked at these carpets. They remind me of something, but I don’t fully remember. The narrow lavender purple hallway, that color gave me some hope. I stopped on the fifth step, just to hear my parents.’

“Emelia, you know she is almost seventeen, she is destined to be a bruja, just like my mother once was.”

“I can’t believe that it has been twenty-eight-years, and you still haven’t learned the way of the lord.” I could hear my mothers’ voice break into muffled tears. “Millia, becoming a bruja is a way of passage in my family, she is from a long line of witches, from Santurce, Puerto Rico.” My father just stood there, in his thick carpet, Pepsi-blue robe, and slippers. His sandy beige skin, deep set, hazel brown eyes, and sharp black hair complemented those colors.

“Can’t you see that you’re killing her spiritually?” He said.

“No, but I do see that you are leading her astray from Jesus. If you want to rot, then go ahead, rot, but please don’t take her with you.” My mother said, with her dirty Blonde hair tied up in a slick ponytail, with thick, black glasses, with her cross around her neck, and her silky black pajamas. Her brown eyes met his, and it felt as though she was looking into his soul, but my father was looking through her.

“I think it’s best we head to bed, Melia.” He said.

My mother sighed and she began to move herself to their bedroom. I always wondered why my parents stayed together for so long, when they believed in two different things that would divide them most of the time.

“Is this what love is?” I whispered to myself.

I finished my way up the last three steps, and I went into my gray-purplish wallpapered room that was accompanied with white peonies. I had one large stack of stained laundry lying on my bed, with six blouses, and two blue distressed pairs of jeans. I just threw everything on the side of my floor, I felt too anxious to put anything away. I gathered my thick, mahogany brown, curly hair with a rose pink scrunchy into a pineapple style and wrapped it with my sunshine yellow hair scarf. I kissed my wooden brown, white feathered hanging, dream catcher that swung from my bed's headboard. I am fast asleep at this point, with my powder pink quilt covering me and my beige thick throw blanket under it. It began in the middle of the night, I started to toss and turn out of free will, it felt like something was wrestling with my spirit. I opened my eyes, and I felt something pulling my spirit out of my body. “What is happening, am I dead?” Once my spirit left my body, I was a spectator. I was watching myself sleep, and I had no idea I snored so loudly. I make my way down the lavender, narrow hallway. At the very top of the stairs I stopped myself from going any further.

“Did I die in my sleep? "That was all I could recite in my mind.

I felt a tingling sensation as if there were spiders crawling in my skin. I was visually seeing everything in my room, I saw my physical body still sleeping there on my bed, just resting peacefully and I still wasn’t sure if it turned into a stiff, eyed closed moment in what I believe is my reality of seeing myself dead. I tried going back into my body, I was shaking my body that laid peacefully on my bed. thinking this is just a strange dream. I began to walk down the duck-squeaking stairs and I entered my parents' doorway and could see my mother sleeping, in her silky-black, floor-length pajamas that would stretch comfortably as she moved around in the bed. I saw how her face was resting on her silky black pillowcase. My mother always tries to prevent face, neck, and hand wrinkles. She would moisturize every day. She takes her skin care regimen seriously as she does her Bible. I heard a noise coming from the living room. It sounded like a low raspy voice. “Marii. I’m coming to get you.”

I didn’t want to walk any further when I heard that voice call my name and say such a thing. I ran into my parents' room and laid down next to my mother.

“Please, please, Lord get me out of this.”

That was all I could say, with small tears gliding down my face, forming a puddle. My spirit flew up the stairs like a flash of light and went back into my body. I woke up late in the morning, my shuttered eyes slowly raising each one up.

“Where am I?”

I smelled something like rotten eggs and spoiled milk combined. I got up from the beige, warm sand, and I began to walk around, the more I walked around, the more present and vicious the scent became.

“Wait, I think I know where I’m at.” I said while sliding my fingers gently across the brass brown, scuffed tree stump.

“This is my father’s stomping grounds. I remember coming here every fall at this beach so my father can give readings with cowrie shells to strangers.”

He would walk up to those that Elegua would tell him to walk up to. Elegua would speak through my father and he would usually need to puff on a cigar and puff. I never understood that process but my father would tell me that it was to evoke the presence of Elegua. It feels like something is here, but it is also missing. What could it be? I asked myself. I followed the scent as closely as possible. I couldn't help but notice that my father’s red and black Elegua blessed necklace was under a tree.

“Why would it be here?”

I picked up the necklace but then I kept smelling that awful smell, that stench that seemed to never leave. I sprinted through the smell till I couldn’t smell it anymore. It led me to the dream-like, blush blue water that made up the entire Pacific Ocean. Once I walked toward the beach, the smell left, and I plopped myself down on the sand with my knees hugging my chest. I was looking at the ocean, the sparkles that came with each wave. Then a large wave caved me in from the shore. “Help, I can’t breathe.” My head kept dunking in the water, I was wheezing for air. The light blush blue waves turned into a dark indigo blue color. I was then placed on a black stoned rock, with sharp shark teeth edges.

“Where am I?”

I said while looking around with my eyes widened, my mouth slightly open and both my eyebrows raised. I was panting for air, I was in a crawling position going in circles.

I then saw small waves rushing towards the black, sharp shark teeth edges. A chocolate-colored woman with a soft blue dress, she arose from the ocean.

“Who are you? I said as I pushed my body away from the chocolate figure.

“Yemaya, mother of the Oceans and the daughter of the dark seas.”

She said as she slithered in the air.

“How do you know me?”

“I have known you since you were in the womb.” I just stared at her.

“Can you tell me what I am doing here?” Yemaya gave a slight smirk and held her hand out to me. I reluctantly gave her my hand, and she pulled me into her arms. I was turned into a pale-white scaly tailed mermaid.

“You are a daughter of Yemaya.” She said, while I looked up to her.

I can see she too is some type of half human, half mermaid.

“I have never seen something like you before.” She began to slightly chuckle.

“That is because you were too young to see me, but I have been watching you.”

I shook my head in disbelief.

“My mother always told me that only Jesus can watch over me.”

“hm” she said while raising her chin.

“I regret telling you this but your mother, Emillia, is not one of good faith. She is tainted.”

“You know my mothers’ name?” I asked while my upper lip curled up.

“Since I have known you since you were in the womb, I also know your mother, your entire lineage by blood too.” She said while her mermaid tail gently wagged at me.

“Why did you choose me?”

“What makes you think you’re chosen?”

“I’m here after having two bizarre incidents. One minute my spirit left my body, and I felt as light as a feather. The next minute, I woke up and smelled something that was a mix of rotten eggs and spoiled milk combined. I am not sure what these experiences are called, but It felt surreal for me.”

I locked eyes with Yemaya, and she proceeded to tell me, what are these experiences.

“Your late father, Daniel, was a powerful brujo. He would astral project every Monday to do things in the spirit world. His head was Elegua. You are chosen because you have your father’s gift. Now that I am your head, you will be guided. I chose you because you are destined to be a powerful bruja, just like your fathers’ mother once was.”

“So now what?”

I asked while looking around the dark, indigo sea. Her curled-up C-shaped whimsical Pepsi blue, scaly tail began to unravel. Her tail had to be at least five feet long. It could drag itself in the ocean as she levitated higher up into the air.

“Your father, Daniel, wrote a prophecy, he couldn’t fulfill it, but you must.”

She gently nods her head and tells me firmly. “I still don’t understand why am I here? Why do I need to fulfill a prophecy? One that I didn’t know even existed.” She raised her hands over the ocean, and I began to rise with the ocean, placing me back on the black, sharp, shark teeth edge rock. Yemaya sat me down gently. My white scaly mermaid tail began to dissolve. My soft, beige skin returned in seconds. “You have to take your fathers place; you must take his soul to find who murdered him.” “Murdered?” My father was not murdered, my father told my mother and I that he was chopping wood for the dead, crunchy-leaf months. A forest fire took place, and there were patches of his skin left behind, with a tear that shaped into a frosted flame.” Sighs. “Your father was murdered by someone or something, you must begin your quest tomorrow night, before dawn.” I bursted out crying. “Are you sure this isn’t just a really odd dream?” I said with my voice breaking up as I spoke. “I’m afraid not. But remember, you only have three days to collect his soul.” “How do I collect his soul?” I asked with a quizzical expression as if I wasn’t sure if I had spoken or kept my mouth shut. "Go back to where he was murdered, by the Oak tree. His stained blood will help you summon Elegua, to help you on this part of your journey.” But, what if Elegua doesn’t know who I am, and attacks me?” “My dear girl, he knows you, all seven of us know each of your family members. We are your ancestors.” What happens after I find out who murdered my father?” “Elegua will help you, he is the deity of the crossroads. I must note, do not tell your mother about your quest, she will ruin it and the seven of us will no longer be a part of your journey. Not just this journey, but your journey in life.” She said while her five inch tail curled back up. “You must go.” she levitated the black, sharp, teeth, edged rock into the air with a strong rumble in the ocean. She led the rock back to the shore. I began to shake and shiver, as the warm air swiftly changed into cool air with the rushing waves from below. It made the air so cold that I needed a thick, fall outfit on. The cool breeze left chills up my spine. Once I arrived back to the shore. The stench returned. “I can’t escape this foul smell.” I saw the stained, smelling sour blood of my late father on the Oak tree. I still do not understand who would want to murder my father? As I began to go closer to the stained blooded tree. I touched the blood with just my fingertips. A beam of blue light blinded my vision. I was looking at something that wouldn’t leave my vision, even if I closed my eyes. It was still there.

“What is happening?” I then heard music, like a musical chant. I heard; “I, I, I, Yemaya, oh-ho, I,I,I, Yemaya, oh-ho.” Why was Yemaya coming to see me again? We just spoke.

“Mari, you need to take a drop of your fathers’ blood and get three white candles, three red candles, and three black candles. You must do this on a Monday before dawn.”

This time a fully clothed frosted blue, floor length dressed, chocolate skinned woman. Who was wearing some type of head piece that covered her entire head, but I didn’t know what it was called. “How do I get a drop of this blood; it is stained on the tree?”

“There is an alternative method since this needs to be done as quickly as possible.”

“What is the alternative method?”

“The method is for you to draw your own blood, and to smear it on his stained blood. You will have to slice the middle of your left hand, and smear it over his sour blood, so that it can turn pure. Once it turns white, you’ll know it’s pure. You must be reciting these very words.

“I call upon Elegua, Yemaya, Oshun, Obatala, Oya, Ogun, and Chango the powerful seven Africans to allow me to retrieve my fathers’ blood. I pray to each of the seven Africans to grant me my urgent request Ashe.”

My vision became slowly but surely became clear again. The beam of pale blue light began to leave and my vision came back. I was then staring at the sour blooded, stained tree. My voice broke into a cry as I touched the stained blood with my fingertips again.

“Dad, I wish you were still here with us. We will always love and miss you. Forever and always. I kissed the stained sour blood, my breath smelled like a skunk sprayed in my mouth. The musky funk made me feel unbalanced, and I felt like I was spinning. My stomach turned, and I was belching.

“Why is this happening?”

I asked myself. I walked past the oak tree, walked towards the house. Before I could finish walking, I felt so weak in my knees. I looked up before I collapsed. I saw my mother Emilia drying out the laundry in the backyard from a distance. “Ma!” She didn't hear me. “Mom!” She stopped hanging up the clothes, turned around and found my breaking voice. “Mari, is that you?”

“Ma, its me. It's Mari.” She started to run towards me.

She hugged me tightly. “Where did you go for all of those hours?”

“I went to the shore, for a walk.” I said while eyes looked left and right.

My mother looked me in the eye with her hands on my shoulders.

“Don’t lie to me, I know when you are.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, but I have to go.” I said, slipping off her hands from my shoulders.