A Song for You

“I don’t know ‘bout this, Junie. Let’s just go home.”

Danny Mattheson sits across a table from a woman with an outstretched hand. Moments earlier, she had prompted him to hand over the item he now clutches in his right hand, a heavily-wrinkled, cream-colored dress that had yellowed in a few spots. The fingers of his left hand tightly interlace with those of a young woman beside him.

“Maybe we should try this another time, Natalie.” The woman across the table retracts her hand. She maintains eye contact with Danny.

“He just needs a minute,” Natalie says softly. She turns to Danny, holding his hand snuggly in hers. “Pop Pop, we talked about this. She’s not going to keep it. It’s just so she can get a sense of Big Mama.”

“My Tracy ain’t no prey to be sensed,” Danny replies. He pouts and shifts backward in his seat, cradling the dress to his body like a newborn. The woman sighs.

“It’s not like that, Pop Pop. Garcelle is here to help you, to help both of us process our grief.”

“Ain’t nothin to process, Junie. She gone. She gone, and we ain’t never gittin’ her back.” His voice cracks. He fidgets in his seat and looks to a corner of the room. Tears flow down the hills and divots in his face, disappearing into his dense, coily beard. A candle crackles, disrupting the moment of silence.

Danny releases Natalie’s hand and folds his arms, the cream-colored dress wedged tightly between them. He sits taller, broadens his shoulders.

“Mm-mmm. I ain’t doin’ this. This foolish, Junie, an’ it’s demonic. Take me on home.” 

Garcelle pushes her chair from the table and stands. “Let’s stop here, Natalie. We can try again when he’s ready.”

“No! He just needs a minute. He’s just a little nervous.”

“Natalie, we can’t force people to be ready before their time. We’ve been over this. We’ve got to give everyone the space they need to find their own way.”

“Please,” Natalie cries. “Please just give us a second. He’ll be ready. I know he’s ready.” Her eyes plead with Garcelle even as her words cease. Garcelle sighs and shakes her head. She sits, resting her chin in her palm.

“Thank you.” Natalie leans forward with clasped hands. She pivots towards her grandfather. “Pop Pop, I know this is hard for you. But please, please just trust me. This is going to help us.”

“This here ain’t gonna do nothin’ for us but leave us poorer. I know these types o’ women. They just takes ya money and run clean off! My friend Jimmy used ta see one of these here conja women. Messed him up real good! Seen her drivin’ ‘round town in one o’ dem fancy cars while he was locked up in the cuckoo house! He died there. God rest his soul.”

Danny quickly makes the sign of the cross and refolds his arms. Garcelle remains silent, but her eyes narrow slightly—the candles in the room flicker.

A long sigh. Natalie sits back in her chair. Her reddened eyes lower, focusing on the table before her. An assortment of crystals and crushed herbs are carefully positioned on a pentagram. A small incense burner releases a steady stream of smoke. Suddenly, she shudders and lets out a wail, then weeps into her hands.

“Junie!” Danny looks frightened. He quickly unfolds his arms and places a hand on her shoulder. “Junie, baby, what’s wrong? Are ya hurt?” Natalie tries to speak, but the tears drown her voice. She shakes her head.

“Let’s just go,”  she chokes. Standing and wiping her cheeks with the back of her hand, she grabs her purse. Garcelle slowly rises from her seat. She looks pained. Tenderness spills from her eyes. 

Danny, still seated, looks up at his granddaughter. He lowers his chin to his chest and gently sways from side to side. Several moments go by in silence before he nods his head.

“I’m gon’ do it,” he mumbles. Natalie tilts her head. Doubt replaces the grief in her eyes.

“It’s okay, Pop Pop. You don’t have to. We can go.”

“I’m gon’ do it,” he repeats. “Sit down.” Garcelle and Natalie exchange glances.

“Look, I was just talkin’ nonsense earlier. Jimmy was crazy ‘fore he met that conja woman. We all knew it. People just say stuff sometimes, ya know. Here, take it.”

Danny offers the dress to the conjure woman. A glimmer of hope reappears in Natalie’s eyes. She stares expectantly. Garcelle hesitantly reaches for the garment, pausing before lifting it from Danny’s grasp. 

“Alright,” Garcelle says. Both women retake their seats. “We’ll continue. As I said earlier, we do the first part of the ritual here. Using the item you’ve brought, I establish a connection with the departed. We say a prayer. Then we begin the work of preparing for travel.”

She pauses to eye Danny. He stares at the table, silently shaking his head in agreement.

“Natalie, while you help your grandfather through the purification ceremony I shared with you, I will be working herbs and brewing tea for the final stage where Mr. Daniel will set off on his journey. Sound okay?”

Natalie looks at her grandfather. 

“Yes, ma’am. Let’s git to it.”

The first part of the ritual proceeds smoothly. Garcelle spends several minutes running her hands over the dress. Natalie leans forward intently. Danny sits motionless. When they pray, they hold hands and bow their heads. Garcelle leads them in what to say. 

Upon closing the prayer, the conjuress rises and retreats to a set of shelves. She collects several bottles with little dried leaves and petals inside.

The old man follows his granddaughter through a curtain into a back room. A crimson chaise with gold feet and a few pillows rest against the back wall. Emerald-colored tea cups sit atop a coffee table made of dark wood. A few candles are placed around it, the only light source in the room.

A door on the side of the room leads to a small bathroom. Natalie turns on the light and steps aside so Danny can enter.

“Everything you need is here. Use the soap bar to wash yourself head to toe, including your hair and beard. Make sure you get a good lather and scrub well. Once you rinse it off, pour the liquid from the decanter over your head. Use this white towel to cover yourself, but don’t dry off.”

He looks hesitant but follows her instructions. After his shower, he sits on a stool while Natalie combs his hair. She now wears a white robe.

“You nervous,” she asks, gently working through a knotted patch. Danny stares at his reflection in the cloudy mirror.

“I ain’t neva been no fraidy cat. But don’t ya think all this stuff a lil’ strange? You really think she gon’ be able to do what she say she can?”

“I got several reputable recommendations from folks who’ve seen her. People who say she’s changed their lives, helped them get past all sorts of trauma. At this point, all I can do is have faith.”

“In a woman you neva met b’fore in yo life?”

“In God. He wouldn’t have brought me this far to leave me.”

Danny smiles. “We in the house of a witch, an’ you here quotin’ gospels? Girl, we goin’ ta hell.” He cackles and slaps his thigh. His loud chortle is contagious. It sends Natalie into her own fit of laughter. Deep belly chuckles consume them. Danny holds his side. Natalie’s eyes water.

“Laughter is a good omen,” Garcelle says as she enters the room. Shimmering black fabric trails behind her as she approaches the coffee table, carrying a small green tea pot. She sets it near the cups.

Natalie smiles warmly, looking down at her grandfather. He takes hold of her hand and squeezes it, nodding and returning a wink. They continue to hold hands as she guides him to the chaise. He eases himself down and lifts his legs onto the cushions. His white cotton pants seem to glow against the deep red fabric. Natalie helps him recline, then sits on the edge beside him.

“Do you have any questions,” Garcelle asks. She pours a cup of tea and intently holds his gaze. Danny shifts slightly. He smooths a wrinkle in his white cotton shirt.

“I don’t ‘spose I do,” he replies. A tinge of nervousness creeps onto his face.

“Don’t worry, Pop Pop. We’ll be right here with you. I’m going to hold your hand the whole time.”

“What’s it gon’ feel like?”

“That’s difficult to say,” Garcelle offers. “The experience is different for everyone. Some people say it’s like drifting into a deep sleep. Others have more challenging voyages. It can feel slightly unsettling initially, but if you just let go and flow with what’s happening, it’ll pass.”

“Flow, huh,” Danny mutters. He stares at the wall in front of him. “How I know how ta git where I’m goin’?”

“There’s nothing for you to do, Mr. Daniel. You only need to drink this tea and relax.” She hands the cup to Natalie. She carefully raises it to his lips, steadying it as he swallows the warm liquid. Before he finishes the lap sip, the room sways.

The two women look like reflections in a rippling pond. Danny tries to say something, but his words slur incomprehensibly. His head leans back into s fluffy pillow.

“Don’t worry, Mr. Daniel.” He hears a voice floating through the ether. “We’re right here with you. Breathe.”

A cloud of smoke appears, filling his nostrils and working through every cell in his body. The universe folds in on itself, surrounding him in a tar-black cocoon of nothingness. His body melts. Each dimension is a layer that slowly peels away. 

Losing form, he exists only in time, a string of moments making up a consciousness. This, too, dissipates as the moments unravel and disperse into the void. Without body or mind, he’s dimensionless.

“Rise an’ shine!” A woman raises the blinds and opens the window of a small bedroom. Rays of light scatter around her and bombard a man sleeping on a bed. He stirs. Crisp air swirls towards him. The woman smooths the bodice of her cream-colored dress as she walks over.

“Daniel Clifford Mattheson, if you don’t get up out that bed right now, I’ll wring yo’ neck!”

“Quit buggin’ me, Tracy. A man needs his beauty sleep. Tracy?!” Danny leaps from the bed and gawks at the woman before him. “That really you?”

“Well, who else would I be, Danny,” she asks, eyeing him curiously. Her eyes glimmer playfully. “You betta tell them gals that be swoonin’ ova’ ya ta stay from ‘round here. I ain’t got no problem puttin’ my foot in they behind.”

“That’s my Tracy, alright. A Bible in one hand an’ a fist with the otha’!”

“Bible say forgive those who trespass against ya. It ain’t mention nothin’ bout tunin’ ‘em up first.”

“It also say be good ta those who hurt ya,” Danny chuckles.

“I’ll be good to ‘em after I teach ‘em ‘bout messin’ wit my man.”

“Woman, you crazy. Ain’t nobody want this old bag o’ bones. Sides you tha only one pretty ‘nuff ta have eyes fo’.”

“Mmhmm,” she grins. “You just likes my cookin’.”

“I likes yo’ ev’rythang.” Danny wraps his arms around Tracy. He nuzzles her neck and breathes deeply. “I’ve missed ya so much these last six months. It’s mighty good ta have ya back.”

“What you gettin’ on ‘bout, Danny? I ain’t been nowhere these past six months but here.”

Danny opens his mouth and then closes it. He slowly scans the room, scratching his smooth chin. He catches a glimpse of himself in the mirror over a large dresser. He gasps and runs over to it.

“Good lawd! Where my wrinkles go? How I get all my muscles back?”

Danny stares at his arm, flexing and releasing his bicep. He touches his stomach. His undershirt shifts and reveals the imprint of a taut stomach. He stretches, squats down, jumps into the air. When he lands, he turns to his side, examining his back while twisting and turning.

“Wrinkles? What wrinkles, Danny? Ya only 22. An’ you’ve had them same muscles over a year now. You can stop gloatin’.”

“Hot damn,” he says, clapping his hands. “I looks good ‘nuff to eat. Look at you! Yo’ wrinkles gone too.” 

Tracy shakes her head and snickers. “I ain’t got time for no foolin’. I gots a bed to make.” She pulls a side of the sheet towards the headboard and rearranges the pillows. 

“Aw naw,” he says, grabbing her arm. “Forget them sheets. Let’s dance.” Before she can respond, he pulls her toward him. She giggles and allows herself to be spun around. Releasing her hand, he breaks out into the Hitch Hike. His hips shake. His thumb jabs the air.

“Marvin Gaye ain’t got nothin’ on this here now.”

“Danny, what’s gotten into ya?” Tracy laughs so hard that her eyes water. “Stop ‘fore ya have me ruin my makeup.” She uses her hands to fan her eyes.

“I’mma ruin more than that,” Danny winks. “Get on ova’ here.” She shrieks gleefully as he lunges for her, sidestepping him so that he has to chase her. Upon catching her, they share a passionate kiss that blooms into intense lovemaking.

In the stillness of the afterglow, Danny’s expression darkens. “Who I’m foolin’? This ain’t real.” He sits up slowly as if anchored by a great weight. He glances at Tracy. Her hair is silver, face covered with lines and folds. Danny quickly looks away and puts his head down. His lips tremble.

“I knew if you saw this version o’ me first,” she says, grunting as she sits up, “it’d mess wit ya.” He flinches as she touches his hand, interlacing her fingers with his. Danny groans. He squeezes his eyes shut, but the tears fall anyway.

“I’m sorry I wasn’t there,” he whispers. “I’m sorry I ain’t hold ya hand an’ tell ya how much I love ya. That I ain’t hold ya in my arms, so ya know how much I do.” Danny heaves. His free hand balls into a fist. A moan rises in his throat and transforms into a bawl.

“I messed up real bad, Tracy. I thought if I go on home an’ pray, God’ll make everythin’ right. Junie begged me ta go down there ta that hospital. Tell me God givin’ us a chance ta say bye an’ we should take it. I called her a fool. Told her git her doubtin’ self from ‘round me. You shoulda seent the betrayal an’ hurt in her eyes.”

Tracy wraps her arms around Danny. Pulls him into her bosom while he cries. She gently rocks him, massaging his scalp and tousling his wild beard.

“I’d be storyin’ if I said I ain’t wish ya was there.” Tracy breaks the silence, but continues to soothe him. “I ain’t harborin’ no ill feelin’s towards ya tho’. Death ain’t easy for the departin’ or the remainin’. I can’t hold a grudge ‘gainst ya for bein’ human.”

“It’s still my fault tho’.” Danny hugs her tighter. “God would’ve heard the prayers of a betta man. A more faithful man woulda been able ta save ya.”

“Naw, Danny. Don’t you say nothin’ like that. It was just my time. You know good an’ well I’m a fighta. Always been. But this time, it was just my time. Fightin’ drug it out, but it ain’t change nothin’.”

They sit in silence. A draft stirs Tracy’s hair. “Unfortunately, Danny, our time is up on this plane. But that don’t mean it won’t start ‘gain on anotha one. Forgive yaself. It’s hard, but move forward lil by lil.”

Danny sniffles. He lifts himself off Tracy and meets eyes with her.

“I’m so sorry, Tracy. I truly am. You done given me a bigga kindness than I deserve. An’ I’m grateful. I love ya, an’ I’m gon’ find ya in the next life an’ be a betta man than I was in this one. I’m gon’ start today.”

“That’s fine by me. Long as ya get some betta dance moves too.” There’s a shared laugh and a long embrace, followed with a final kiss. Danny rests his head on the pillow. A warm smile curves his lips. He drifts into a deep sleep.

The smell of pungent spices and hot wax fills Danny’s nose. He awakes with a start to find Natalie sitting next to him, still holding his hand. Garcelle kneels beside her, head bowed in prayer. She looks up when she hears him shift.

“Welcome back, Pop Pop.” Natalie gently places her free hand on his arm. He jolts up and wraps his arms around her. She startles, but doesn’t resist. Giving her a tight squeeze, he plants a big kiss on each of her cheeks.

“Junie, I shoulda never said them mean things to ya. I ‘pologize. ‘Tween the two of us, you closer to faithful than I’ll ever be. An’ I loves ya immensely.”

Natalie’s eyes brighten. “Thank you, Pop Pop. That means a lot to me. You ready to go home?”

“Sure am.” Natalie offers him a hand, but he refuses it. It takes some effort, but he stands up on his own. His mouth curls slightly. The flame catches a sparkle in his eye.

 “You look like a new man, Mr. Daniel,” Garcelle beams.

He embraces her. “Miss Garcelle, I shoulda trusted ya sooner. it’s fine work ya do here. Keep it up.” He releases her and heads for the door, hips and shoulders rocking and swaying to the tune he hums.