Drumsticks Read Free

voodoo medicine,” Aubrey snorted.
    â€œThat’s right,” Justin confirmed, then turned to me to say, “She can put the mojo on that man who jammed you up. You’ll get him back in a minute.”
    â€œI’m touched, J. But we’ve got a few months to go before my birthday.”
    With a toss of his head, he pressed the doll into my hands.
    â€œWhat the fuck? It’s somebody’s birthday every day, isn’t it? Here, take it. I have it on good authority that this lady will fix up your life, no matter what kind of blues you have. And let’s face it, Smash-up, you could use the help.”
    Like they say, don’t look a gift horse in the mouth. Though I never had an idea in hell what that old axiom meant.
    â€œThanks, J. That’s really sweet of you. I think I’ll name her Justine, in your honor.”
    â€œUnh unh,” he cautioned. “She’s already got a name: Mama Lou. You have to call her Mama Lou.”
    â€œOkay. But why?”
    â€œPerry Mason,” he said, as if that answered my question.
    â€œPerry Who?” Aubrey asked.
    Myself, I knew who Perry Mason was, but his answer still made no sense.
    â€œYou know that old TV show from the fifties,” he began to explain. “He was a lawyer that never lost a case. And my girl Della, his secretary, used to wear these kickass high heels without the backs to them.
    â€œWell, when I first started working at Caesar’s, my shift would start about two in the afternoon. So I would get out of bed about eleven or twelve. They used to show Perry Mason reruns every day on Channel Five. I would eat my breakfast and get ready for work while I watched it. Got to the point it would ruin my day if I couldn’t see it. I saw most of the shows five … six … a hundred times.
    â€œAnyway, they had this one story about this young white girl who had lost her parents, and so she was raised down in Haiti by this voodoo mammy they called Mama Lou. But somebody killed Big Mama. Man, that was my favorite Perry . The thing is, while I was watching it the power went out in my building, and I never found out who the murderer was. They never showed that one again, godammit. To this day, I don’t know who killed Mama Lou.
    â€œSo there I am the other day, coming back from Armani on Fifth Avenue, and I cut down Fifteenth Street to come back over east. Right there at Union Square and Fifteenth where all those street vendors hang out—”
    â€œ Armani?” That was Aubrey’s incredulous hoot, interrupting Justin’s narrative. “Motherfucker, you don’t shop at no Armani and you know it.”
    He bristled and snapped at the air. “I buy my soap there, bitch. Everybody knows Italian soaps are the best. Anyway, as I was saying, there I am at that corner of Fifteenth and the park. And I look up and there’s Mama Lou staring me right in the face.
    â€œThere’s this woman who looks like she could be a voodoo lady herself. She sews these dolls and sells them on the street there. Got a whole table full of different kinds of dolls. She said all her dolls got magic powers. Hell, I can always use a little magic. So now you come in here looking like … well, like you’re looking,” he said. “I figure you’ll be a real good test of Mama Lou’s magic. If she can help you, she can help anybody.”
    I took the doll and held her close, swallowing hard. “From your lips, Justin.”
    I looked over at Aubrey. “Are you still pissed at me, Aub?”
    She didn’t say anything, just plucked a few tissues from her table and began to wipe my mouth.
    I smiled at the two of them. “Thanks, Mom and Dad,” I said.

CHAPTER 2
    It’s Magic
    This fucking thing does not work! I thought bitterly.
    I was pretty grim that afternoon. Two days since Justin had given me the Mama Lou doll and I was damned if I could see any magic changes taking