Chapter 1: The Queen

Carrefour, Port-au-Prince Arrondissement, Haiti

“Madam, you wished to see us urgently?”

“I did. Enter.”

He was a hard-faced, burly man who moved with cat-like grace into Vanessa’s study, followed by three other men who also moved with watchful purpose, showing that they too possessed similar skills of advanced martial arts.

“Malory is delayed, my lady. He’ll be here in an hour or thereabouts.”

“It is well, Vincent. I don’t entirely trust Malory; he does too much of, well, I’d call it ‘freelance’ work. Too much of his collateral damage can affect my goals. Please give Malory the instructions I shall give you gentlemen and impress on him that he must be discreet. None of his brutality! And for the rest of you, too. Do not call attention to my project by being brutal in your work. Remember!”

The men all nodded obediently.

“I called you here because I have an urgent mission. If it is fulfilled, I will be able to advance my project by several years, so your success will be greatly rewarded. But know that I will not tolerate failure.”

She spoke for several minutes more about her vision. Then she continued.

“Last night I was communing with my patron lwa. Lord Kalfou, and he showed me that a strong power is newly arisen. I have had several faint hints of this power during the past few years, but those hints have been feeble and fleeting. Now, Kalfou has helped me to sense that our long-missing manbo may indeed be alive, yet very distant from here. If she is alive, I want her back here to serve me and to help me get our chosen monarch placed as Haiti’s leader. My missing manbo has grown strong in her power; yet I am stronger; with Kalfou’s guidance, I can overcome any resistance she might present and have her serve me.”

“Who is this of whom you speak, my queen?” asked Vincent, the spokesman for the group.

“You knew of her as Cassandra Bernard, the manbo at Aubry, but if she faked her death, she may have changed her name. Official records showed that she perished, but it is her power which I have sensed,” Vanessa said, and gave them a few more details.

“Even though I do not know where she currently may be, I expect that with her abilities, she will feel compelled to continue as a manbo.”

Vanessa gave them some further directions and then finished her instructions.

“I want her found and brought here. But I again stress to you to use no methods which will call the attention of authorities to us. We cannot allow errors which would result in revealing my plans, now that we are so close to their fulfillment. Now come close, all of you, and look deeply into my eyes, and I shall seal these instructions to your souls.”

They did, and after a minute, they again became aware of their surroundings.

“We shall do as you command and shall succeed, my lady, have no doubt,” Vincent assured her, and with bows, they departed.

By herself now, Vanessa mused, It would be good—no, really essential, to have Cassandra here to serve me. If I could control her abilities, I will become the queen of the manbos in reality instead of having to hide here on my compound.

About an hour passed and then several women tapped at the door for permission to enter the room.

“Enter!” Vanessa called.

Three women entered.

“Ah, good. Helene, you three are here to report. How go your studies?” Vanessa said.

“We are progressing. We are getting stronger every day. We are now able to compel the slaves to do our bidding almost every time,” Helene told her.

“That is good, but you need to be sure that they are being compelled, not that they are doing your bidding out of fear.”

Another woman answered, “My queen, we are giving their directions only using the methods and the amulets you taught us to use.”

“That is good, then. You three are to be my closest aides when your full training is done. You already know my ambition to be queen over all of the manbos, the priestesses of our Vodou religion, here in Haiti. Now I shall tell you more of the plan, as you are making satisfactory progress.

“You know that we have assembled a group of talented manbos who have shown the ability to persuade others, either directly or by coercion, using the skills I have learned from Kalfou, and have instructed them about their use. My ambition is this: With these manbos, and with those of the oungans who have joined our enterprise, we will be able to achieve the restoration of the Duvalier regime in the name of ... no, that part is yet secret. But I, as queen, will be the power behind the regime, and you manbos will be beside me for support and strength. This is my vision.”

“And we shall help you in reaching your goals,” the third woman assured her.

“That is good. Return to your duties now,” Vanessa dismissed them.

Aubry, Arcahaie Arrondissement, Haiti: four years earlier

Cassandra Bernard entered the little concrete block building next to her home and looked around its interior appraisingly. This room was her ounfò, her temple, and she was the manbo, the priestess, there. She would be initiating a new priestess that evening and was expecting a crowd.

“I need you to help me move some tables and chairs for Meriama’s fourth kanzo rite this evening,” she told her husband, speaking in French.

Her husband Jonas, who had followed her in, asked, “Do you expect a crowd?”

“She has a large family and many friends coming. You do remember that this is her final konesans to be recognized a new manbo?” she asked him.

“Of course. You must be excited, your first manbo confirmation,” Jonas said. “She’s been advancing through her konesans for what, three years?”

“Yes. She wants to help in a larger ounfò in Gonaives. Part of her family lives there.”

They began moving tables when a small voice piped up, “I guess I need to move, huh?”

“Mon Dieu!” Cassandra yelped. “Fabienne! Don’t scare me like that.”

Jonas was also startled at what looked like the sudden appearance of his eight-year-old daughter, who was sitting at a table in the middle of the room, smiling brightly at them.

“I can’t help that you don’t see me, Manman,” Fabienne smirked. “I was just making myself be ‘little,’” she went on, referring to her uncanny ability to be invisible while apparently being in plain sight. “I just do that when it needs to be quiet for me.”

She gestured to a number of textbooks scattered on the table in front of her. She had one open and was writing in a notebook next to that book.

“Okay, sweetheart, please pack up the books and help us set up the chairs for a service,” Jonas told her.

While Fabienne was helping to carry the chairs, she asked about the evening’s service.

“Manman, I only know about what you do from watching you, but I don’t know why you do those things,” Fabienne told her.

“Well, I guess you’re old enough, so when we finish here, we’ll sit and I’ll tell you. We have some time before dinner.”

Jonas broke in, “Let me finish making the meal so you two can talk.”

“Thank you, renmen anpil,” Cassandra replied.

“You know,” Jonas remarked, “we’ve been married some nine years now and I still haven’t gotten used to Kreyòl. I know it’s the official language, and what you said means chérie, or ‘dear’ in English, but we always try to speak French or English, not Kreyòl. I spoke French with my mom growing up.”

Cassandra sighed. “But your parents were from the Haitian upper crust. My manman wasn’t. I know I promised that I’d try to use only French, but I slip sometimes. I like that you teach me and Fabienne to speak better English too.”

When they finished setting up the room, Cassandra had Fabienne sit next to her and began.

“You know, my darling, that I’m a priestess, a manbo; priests are called oungans, and our religion, which came with our ancestors from west Africa, is called Vodou?”

“Sure, and this room is an ounfò and Meriama is a kanzo, it’s like apprentice, and the konesans are the learning she has to do to be a priestess, a manbo, like you. Right?”

“Exactly. And the main area in here, the sacred space in the ounfò, is called the peristil. So let me tell you a little about Vodou beliefs—vodou is an old word, it’s a Fon language word from Dahomey in Africa—that part of the old country where our ancestors came from is now called Benin—the word ‘vodou’ means ‘spirit’ or ‘deity.’ Let me know if you don’t understand something, bien? First, we believe that there’s a single and supreme spiritual One, an unknowable creator of everything, who is sovereign over all of the universe. We call the Supreme One ‘Bondye.’ Do you know where the name comes from?”

“Sure. It’s bon Dieu, the good God. Isn’t he the Gran Mèt?”

“That’s the Kreyòl name, but the same God, dear. The Grand Master. Now then, we who practice Vodou believe in just one God, but we also believe in spirits, called lwa, and I guess your Catholic friends would think of them kind of like angels or saints as they relate to Bondye. We, that is, the way I learned, have a chief lwa, Atibon Legba or Papa Legba. He’s the ‘guardian of the spiritual crossroads’ and is a benevolent lwa who goes between the lwa and people where he permits or denies to people the permission to speak with the other lwa. We believe he speaks all human languages and for us, that is, in my own nanchon or nation, the Rada, which originated in Africa, he is the greatest speaker. We call to him at the beginning of all of our ceremonies.”

“So you mean that Vodou is like the Catholics? We have the lwa and they have the saints? Is that why lots of the churches around have ‘saint’ in their names? My school too?”

“You could look at it that way. Vodou is a folk religion from Africa and has a lot of things added to it from the Christians. We both believe in one God; but they have a Trinity and saints and we have the lwa. Maybe they are really both the same thing, only with different names.

“We believe that the lwa populate the spirit world—the unseen world—the lwa are also known as mystè, ‘mysteries’ or anvizib, ‘invisibles’ and we believe that the spirit world is where the souls of our ancestors reside and where those who recently died go. We call the land Ginen, it’s the ‘African heaven’ and it’s also inhabited by the zanj; those are the angels.

“Anyway, here’s what Vodou teaches. We believe that all existence is one single unity and not separate worlds. Our sacred and our common existence—that’s our spiritual and material worlds—are one. We believe that both the world of the departed and the world of the lwa, Ginen, are one with the world of the living. The worlds exist side-by-side, so to speak, and our souls can move between them when we venerate the lwa. And we also believe in a strong moral system—you know what that is?”

“Um, maybe ... doing right and wrong stuff?”

“That’s as good as we need. So our Vodou beliefs regulate the behavior between people, how we work together socially and as a community. We have a very strong commitment to service and justice, treatment of those who need help, respect for elders, and forgiving wrongdoing where the offender shows true repentance. That’s just the same as other religions. Understand so far?”

“Uh huh, but I don’t understand the ceremonies you do. People look like they are in pain sometimes.”

“Ah. I guess I didn’t realize how perceptive you can be. We connect with our lwa using things like dance, music, and chanting. Each manbo—or oungan—has a personal lwa who he or she venerates most strongly and has the greatest affinity for. And the manbo or oungan tries to help the serviteurs—those are the devotees or adherents—to become people who sèvi lwa, or serve the lwa. When that happens, they can feel all kinds of emotions, and that can look like they’re in pain. What you saw during our rites was people trying to get into a mental state where their own lwa, their own personal spirit, can enter them. Some people think of this as a ‘possession’; it’s not really, but achieving that state of mind is an important part of Vodou worship and it’s the least understood part of our religion. I’ve learned that some Christians do kind of the same things and can get into similar emotional states during worship, so that happening isn’t unique for Vodou.”

“So the spirits can take over someone then?” Fabienne asked nervously.