Raise the Dead, Page 2

  Of course that wasn’t true. I didn’t like the things that I let him do to me, but I needed him alive to continue fulfilling Mother’s medical obligations.”

  ***

  11

  “So what’s up boss man? When do we go to trial?” Terry asked after Jarvis returned from lock up.

  “We don’t?”

  “Why? You think she did it?”

  “Absolutely not. I believe she’s innocent.”

  “Well-uhhh, what’s the problem then?”

  “The problem is, what I believe and what I can prove are two different things. She’s the last person who would Erik dead. But the circumstantial as well as physical evidence is so overwhelming that the only person who can say for sure who actually killed Erik is Erik.

  “Bummer.”

  You don’t happen to know anyone who can raise the dead?”

  “Maybe.”

  “Terry, that was a rhetorical question.”

  “A what?”

  “A rhetorical question is a question that you really don’t expect an answer to.”

  “Well I don’t know what a recordable question is, but that raise the dead thing sounds like a job for Momma Lijo.”

  “Momma who?”

  “Come on Jarvis. You never heard of Momma Lijo? You really need to get out more.”

  Jarvis continued to give Terry a clueless stare.

  “On the serious tip Jar, around the hood, there’s talk about this spiritualist that lives over on Colfax, who will help you out with any kind of problem for a price.”

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  “Colfax? There’s nothing over there but a cemetery.”

  “I know, but they say that if you need help bad enough, her house will appear, and

  if you pass a test, she’ll help you, if, you’re willing to pay her price.”

  “Come on Terry. Let’s get back to work.”

  “Man, I’m serious. A friend of mine had an aunt who had some big time money issues.

  They say she went to see Momma Lijo. The story goes that Momma Lijo gave her a bingo

  dabber that would make the numbers that the caller called appear on her paper. They said my

  friend’s aunt was crushing all the bingo halls for something like eight grand a week. Ask

  anybody who played bingo, they’ll tell you. But they say she messed up and got greedy.

  Winning more money than she needed. Plus they say she reneged on her promise to pay

  Momma Lijo’s price, whatever it was.”

  “So, what happened to her?”

  “They say she got on a bus for out-of-town bingo, but she never got off. She just

  vanished, even though a bunch of people saw her get on the bus.”

  “Get out of here.”

  Terry raised his left hand. “Swear to God. At least that’s how I heard it.”

  “Do you really expect me to go over to Colfax?”

  “This is that big case that you’ve been waiting for. You said you believed that

  she was innocent. If this woman can help you prove that I don’t see the problem.”

  “Terry, you told me you didn’t do drugs. That idea is ludicrous.”

  “Drugs? Man, ain’t nobody on no drugs. You remember that case on the news

  about the guy who was suing the owner of a tattoo parlor who infected him with dirty

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  needles? You said his attorney was brilliant and dedicated to his profession and his client for

  going undercover and allowing himself to be tattooed at the same tattoo parlor. You said a good

  attorney would leave no stone unturned in the pursuit of his client’s best interest. Now was you

  just talking smack or what? If she can’t help you, no harm done, right?”

  Jarvis began clearing his desk as he asked Terry, “You coming?”

  “To the cemetery? Hellll naw!”

  * * *

  Jarvis decided to drive to Colfax the next morning. Strange things happened in

  cemeteries at night, at least that was the way it played out in the movies. Why take

  chances?

  He had circled the cemetery for the third time when he decided that this indulgence

  had been a waste of time and gas. That was when he spotted a dirty, grey, dilapidated house

  that was all boarded up. He wondered how he had missed seeing it on his first two passes?

  Jarvis parked and got out.

  Hesitantly, he approached and climbed the rickety porch steps. He had begun to

  have second thoughts about knocking on the door of the obviously condemned property

  when the door slowly opened to allow him entry.

  There was only nighttime on the other side. “Hello. Hello. Anyone here?”

  No answer.

  Tentative, he walked in anyway. The door closed behind him. Now it was pitch

  black. He literally could not see his own hand in front of his face. He reached behind him to

  feel for the door which should have only been a couple of feet away. His hands felt nothing.

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  He turned completely around and took a step towards where the door should have been.

  He reached out with both hands to push against the door and began to fall as there was no door or

  floor to stop him. Like a bad dream, surrounded by the total darkness, he seemed to fall

  forever. His body spiraling in the empty blackness the way water goes down a drain pipe.

  The sensation made him feel dizzy and nauseous with an extreme case of vertigo.

  Jarvis no longer had a perception of direction as his body was not making contact with

  anything solid. Panic rose to its summit, like the mercury in a thermometer on a hot day and

  took the mentally overwhelmed attorney to the land of Nod.

  * * *

  Jarvis stirred out of his state of unconsciousness and found himself in a room that was

  thick with mustiness. The odor flooded his sinuses. Jarvis creased his eyes to adjust them to the

  sparkling lights that were contributing to his pounding headache.

  The room was illuminated with candles. Scores of them.

  Seated before him was a behemoth of a woman. Four hundred plus pounds, he imagined.

  Her complexion was a dark chocolate. She had a hill of dreadlocked hair that was sudsy gray in

  color. Jarvis had the impression that she was as ancient as she was heavy, despite the

  smoothness of her face.

  “Momma Lijo?” he managed to say from a parchness that spread from his throat to his

  stomach.

  The large woman tilted her globe-sized head in the direction of the sweat drenched

  man kneeling before her.

  “I be,” she said in a voice heavily seasoned with a Caribbean accent.

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  Breathing heavily, Jarvis managed to say, “I was told…that if a person…came to you…

 

  that you might be able to help them with their problem.”

  “For a price. I help anyone.”

  “How much?”

  “OH, HO! HO! HO! Momma Lijo got no need fo’ yo’ money. What Momma

  Lijo wont’, she wont’ from you.”

  Jarvis had a nervous look in his eyes as he thought about what that might entail.

  “Now don’t go getting’ into a fret. Yous’ too mousey a man fo’ Momma Lijo’s pleasure.

  You don’t even make a good dog, down there on all fo’s. Stand up boy. Stop acting scary-like.

  AH, HA! HA! HA! HA! Now, what you wont’ Momma Lijo to do fo’ you?”

  “I need for a dead man to talk again.” Despite everything that he had been through,

  Jarvis still felt like an idiot for making such a request.

  “Can do. Is that all?”

  “Is that all? I did say this man w
as dead, didn’t I?”

  “Child, I’ve knowed’ mens’ that was breathing that moved like they was dead.

  ‘Course now we be getting’ too personal. I do this thing for you and in return you let me

  take something from you that you can’t see nor touch. It is something that will not harm

  you to surrender. Agreed?”

  “Can’t see it or touch it? And it won’t harm me to part with it? Hell, I guess I

  can live with that.”

  “Deal?”

  “Deal.”

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  “Take me to the body.”

  * * *

  Jarvis’s car whimpered under Momma Lijo’s girth. He drove to the morgue where

  they were keeping young Verdin’s body on ice to save them the trouble of an exhumation

  should the investigation call for one.

  Jarvis had Momma Lijo wait at the back door. He finessed his way past security

  and let Momma Lijo in. They went to the morgue drawers where the bodies were being

  kept. They were in luck as the attendant was at lunch.

  “It’s this one,” he said as he pulled out the drawer.

  Momma Lijo pulled him away as she removed the sheet off of the bluish cadaver of

  young Verdin. She then raised her fist over her head and smashed it against Verdin’s groin

  several times . She did this much in the same way a cook uses a mallet to tenderize tough cuts

  of raw meat. After that, she grabbed his organ at its base and began whipping it from side-to-

  side against his thighs.

  Jarvis watched the odd assault with gritted teeth and curiosity, and silently mused to

  himself that for a white guy, young Verdin kind of had it going on in the pants.

  “The body has been kept cold. This is good. Very little decay to overcome.”

  With a wave of her hand, she produced a small lighted candle. She set it at the edge of

  the morgue drawer, and cupped her hand over the flame.

  Jarvis grimaced as his own palm burned sympathetically.

  After a couple of minutes, she removed her orange shaded palm from the candle and

  firmly gripped the dead man’s scrotum. She then bent her head over his groin.

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  Jarvis looked away not wanting to witness what he considered a vile act. He placed

  both of his hands over his ears to drown out the slurping sounds which proved to be just as

  repulsive as actually watching what Momma Lijo was doing to the corpse.

  Moments later, the noises ceased. Jarvis turned to see that the corpse now had an

  erection and what looked like a faint “smile” on Verdin’s face. Momma Lijo had given a dead

  guy a “boner”. Wow! Now that’s talent.

  Momma Lijo’s cheeks were swollen full of whatever it was that she had drained from

  the dead man’s body. Jarvis shuddered at the possibilities.

  He watched as she took a nine-inch pin from her hair. Some of the long, flat, dreads

  fell over her eyes. She thrust the pin into Verdin’s heart.

  Jarvis deduced that it must have been hollow because she put her mouth on the other

  end of it and blew whatever it was in her cheeks into it.

  She removed the pin and sprinkled an orange colored powder over the pin wound.

  Next, she produced a small pouch and shook some of its contents over the open puncture.

  “What’s that?”

  “A gift, from Gideon, the Gravedigger. This is dirt from the HILL OF THE UNDEAD.

  The seeds of life will need something to grown in.

  Jarvis chose not to ask. She was talking waaay over his head. Gravedigger? Seeds of

  life? Hill of the Undead?

  She said a chant of unintelligible words and the wound closed leaving no traces of the

  puncture to indicate that the body had ever been tampered with other than the original stab

  wounds and the autopsy procedures. She covered the body again and closed the drawer.

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  “There. It is done. You call for him, he be compelled to come. Your debt is paid.

  I go now.”

  My debt is paid? “Hold up! Let me make sure the coast is clear. I mean technically

  this is illegal. A person could get disbarred for pulling a stunt like this. Breaking & Entering,

  Trespassing, Mutilation of a Corpse, Tampering With Evidence.” Oh my God. What are we doing here?

  He peeped around the corner and looked up and down the hallway. “Alright, it’s clear.

  Let’s go.”

  When Jarvis turned to face her, she was gone. He called out her name a couple of

  times, but no response. He quickly scanned the room for her presence. Nothing. She was

  gone. Had she ever really been there? Well, he was and he knew that he needed to leave

  quickly before the attendant returned.

  On his way out, he stopped at a vending machine to get a coffee. He put in his usual

  five sugars, and quickly spat out the strangely bland brew. Even with four more sugars, the

  coffee still tasted like plain hot water.

  * * *

  Six days later - The County Courthouse.

  At the trial, the prosecution was hammering the poor girl on the witness stand. Jarvis

  made repeated objections, mostly to halt the momentum of the prosecutor’s barrage. Terry and

  the other supporters present in the courtroom were getting apprehensive.

  “The prosecution rests your Honor.”

  “Would both counsels please come to my chambers?”

  * * *

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  “Mr. Thorton, do you still wish to continue with these proceedings? I would implore you

  to consider the prosecution’s generous offer for a plea to second degree Manslaughter. There’s

  no shame in accepting a plea deal.”

  “On the contrary, your Honor, I wish to defend my client.”

  “Very well,” the Judge said.

  The two prosecutors were smirking between themselves as they regarded Jarvis’ defeated

  demeanor.

  In the courtroom, Jarvis took his seat next to Clarice and held her hand firmly. After

  hearing the prosecution’s case, Jarvis finally realized that he actually had no real defense.

  He had got this poor girl’s hopes up and now he was going to fail her. Like a fool, he

  had allowed Terry’s story to make him act against his better judgment. What had he been

  thinking?

  When the Judge indicated that the defense could proceed, Jarvis stood, with head held

  back, and chest pushed his chest out and said, “If it please the Court, the defense calls Erik

  Verdin, Jr., to the stand.”

  A wave of commotion rippled through the courtroom like a row of falling dominoes.

  The Judge banged his gavel against the bench several times in an effort to restore order. The

  prosecution registered several objections.

  There, thought Jarvis. It’s done. What was it she had said? “If you call him, he be

  compelled to come.” Well Erik, don’t be shy. Not now.

  Terry leaned over the rail and whispered to Jarvis, “You okay boss man?”

  “I don’t know any more Terry. Did you hear what I just said?”

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  “Jar, everybody heard. Why don’t you ask for a recess or somethin’. You’re looking

  bad bro. Real bad.”

  Apparently the Judge and Terry were on the same page as the Judge indicated that

  there would be a thirty minute recess. He also ordered that the counsels meet him in chambers.

  Immediately.

  As the courtroom quieted and the jurors prepared to exit, a f
aint scratching sound could

  be heard against the closed courtroom doors. The sound was not unlike the skeletal scrape of