“Mama, be still. The healer will be here soon,” said the girl.
“This pain goes through to the bone. Give me some recipe,” replied her mother.
“You’ve had enough whiskey. Be still until the cunning man gets here,” the child said.
Moments later, footsteps moved across the plank floor. The old woman looked up at the room entrance and cried out.
“Obeah, Obeah Man. I’s going to die,” she screamed.
A tall man stood in the shadows, waiting to see his patient.
“It’s the healer come to fix you up,” assured the girl.
“Sister, no devil am I,” the shadowed man said.
The girl hurried over to the doorway to welcome the healer but froze when she saw his face.
“Mind not, a ghost you’ve not seen, only the ritual markings of my craft,” the man said as he walked to the bed.
The woman’s eyes grew enormous as the cunning-man moved into the light. “Obeah man! Keep him away. He’ll sell my soul to the dark one,” cried the woman.
The man smiled and placed his bag upon the bed. “I not evil. I am here to ease your pain. Relax, and I’ll fix those bones of yours,” the healer said.
The woman’s child moved to the head of the bed and stroked her mother to reassure her. “Listen to him if you want to be iry,” she told her mother.
The healer removed several items from his bag and placed them on the woman’s chest.
“If you not evil, then what you be?” said the woman.
The man remained silent and began moving his hands rhythmically over her body. Next, he touched an odd-looking stone to each of her joints.
“Child, bring me a shot of whiskey in a cup,” the healer said.
“You be drinking at a time like this?” the girl asked.
“It’s for your mother’s tonic,” snapped the healer.
Quick as a whip, the child returned with a cup half filled with whiskey. “Is this enough?” she asked.
“That’ll do nicely,” the healer replied.
He then emptied a paper pouch of powder into the liquid. “Drink this down and stay in bed till the cock crows. You’ll be feeling no pain,” the healer said.
After situating her mother, the girl led the man to the front door. “This be enough?” she asked.
“Each to their means,” came his reply. Then he lifted his hat and left.
Sure as the rising sun, the woman was up fixing breakfast the following morning.
“The healer done me right, but you say he lives at the old temple?” asked the woman.
“Yes, Aunt Nancy says he lived there a long time. She told me he draws powers from them scary old stones,” answered the child.
“Not rightly know if he is Obeah or not, but he done fixed my bones as he said. That’s worth something,” said her mother.
Folks don’t talk much about the tall dark man who lives in the temple’s ruins. But if it’s healing they need, everyone knows where to go.
Folksburywoods 
Leave a comment