I swaggered down Urquhart St. in the Quarter carrying my trombone in its case so’s not to draw people’s eyes away from the gold chain around my neck.

“You be careful wearin’ that thing. Somebody cut yo haid off to take it.” Ma said. She worried too much. It was new, and I was showing it off. Finders keepers and all that. I took the necklace, just like somebody took me. I was found under a cabbage leaf, everybody said. For real. Where I came from and who I am…well, that ain’t nosed about. People ask “Where you from, Bones?” I just say “Jail”. People respect what makes you tough.

Madrona’s kids were jammin’ on her porch in the hot New Orleans September.

“Bones!” Develan greeted me. “Madrona inside Readin’.” I heard her laugh as I snapped my case open and took out a shiny bass trombone. I ran a scale or two to warm up. My lips felt stiff after last night. I smiled. Sweet cocoa brown woman. Develan waved me up on the porch next to him. I listened, then slid my notes in next to his, holding the music up, proud and sexy. All morning women came and went through the kitchen door down the side of the house, switching their hips. Dev picked a good spot.

The last woman came with Dias. The whitest woman I’d ever seen. So white she showed blue, and I couldn’t stop looking at her. Dev saw me stare and caught at me.

“Hell no, man. Not her.”

 “Gotta.” I shook him off and gave him my horn.  Followed that girl down the street.

A couple twists and corners later, they turned into a Botanica. My hands shook cause I don’t hold with no HooDoo. I had a few lies ready but forgot them when she caught my eye.

“Who you?” she asked as she pulled me through the magical emporium. She kissed me hard without waiting for an answer. I heard a card game in the back room. I sat with them because she pushed me, then wagered my pocket. And lost. “Play your chain”, she urged. “No! Not for sale.” I said and left.

I sweated over that all night. Come morning I went back to even things up, but the Botanica windows were bare and dusty. I rattled the door. Locked. Skin crawlin’ I walked up and down the street feeling the blistering sun on my shoulders until I figured it was the wrong street. Or the wrong woman.

“Shit!” I muttered and shambled off to Madrona’s steps to play more music. Nothing happened til about half a week when the girl came back with Dias. He been at the poker table. I fingered my chain links possessively. I wouldn’t lose them to questionable cards. I glared at him with my mean eyes, seeing he was the guard who slipped it to me in prison. I looked away so he wouldn’t know he scared me, short little man. Trap or no, I wasn’t giving this up, not to him. The girl shone her eyes at me. I licked my lips and kept on playing. Midday, everybody had some place to go. Madrona shooed them off her porch.

“Bones, you come in an’ have some gumbo. There’s somebody you need to meet.” I followed her, feeling safe in her kitchen. Once I had a bowlful of gumbo, she called me over.

“This man got a mean pit bull needs training. You up to it?” She gave me a dish of pulled pork for the dog and pointed at the parlor.

“This here is Dias. He’ll pay if you can make the dog safe.” Madrona said to the back of my head. I sat on the floor, fear creeping up and down my back. I needed the money, but didn’t want to work for Dias, unless I was already working for Dias.

Dogs was my other talent. A white pitty with some brown on her growled in the parlor. I sat and fed her pork. She was trainable. But she would never like Dias.  Good judgment. Dias stayed behind me in the doorway.

“You scared of her?” I worried at him. “I can train her but she don’t like you. Can’t change that. She be okay with other people. Give her to someone she likes.” I handed the half-empty plate to the dog and stood. I towered over Dias, but tall made me no points.  “Where’s your woman?”

Dias shrugged. Looked down at the dog.

“Cobweb? You want her too?” Dias leered.

I was offended for her. “That’s a shit thing to say. You don’t hand off a woman like a dog.”

“They both be bitches. Meet me at St Mary’s Museum for your money. Wear your necklace so you can give it to her.” A shot of fear flashed over my face before I hid it. Dias laughed. “You can have the dog. Sell her if you want. She got papers.”

He disappeared. The dog growled again. I gentled her, promising she’d never have to deal with him again. Pitty licked my face in hopes I meant it. “Stay!” I told her. I rushed after Dias. But he was gone. Nobody seen him leave. Nobody saw Cobweb at all.

“Bones, how you know them?” Madrona demanded. I tried to pass it off as nothin’  but Old Mother wasn’t fooled. She shook her head.

 “He be trouble, and she’s fae. Take this.” She pulled a white feather out of the buffet drawer. “Protection from Mr. Blanc. He’ll match them.”

“Blanc!” I nearly dropped the feather.

Madrona scowled. “Respect, Son.”

The next day I went down to the old convent on Chartres. After a sit-down on a park bench, I made up my mind to leave. Supposed to be vampires in the attic. Dias caught me on the way out.

“Bones? Want your money?”

I wasn’t sure, but the white feather was in my pocket, so I nodded. I seen plenty strange things in the Quarter and lived. I don’t like ghosts, and vampires scared me. Dias walked on my grave. He led deep into the shade. I shivered. Out the other side, I didn’t know where I was. Cobweb came out of a house.

“This my Marraine’s house. Her name is Tea. You gotta meet her if I’m going with you.”

This was speeding along the highway like a dealer.  I didn’t like it. I put my hand in my pocket to find the feather. Messir Blanc, a wizened old man in a white suit, winked at me from the doorway and tipped his straw hat.

“Bones, why you with Dias?” Blanc asked.

“Owes me money.”

Cobweb growled and bared her teeth like a dog. She pulled me into a parlor where Lady Tea sat on a plush high-backed chair encircled with roses. The woman stared at me.

“No, this man won’t do.” She announced. “Pay me with your gold chain, and I’ll say we’re even.”

“No.” I raised my chin.

“It belongs to my beloved Cobweb. That is the price of taking her. It is also the price of leaving her.” The fey woman on the throne commanded.

“No,” I whispered, terrified. “I’m owed money.” They stared, and I did not blink first.

“Dias. Give this man your money. All of it. Empty your pockets.” Dias was furious and dumped the change and the folding money on the floor.

“Pick it up.” A clash of wills. Dias obeyed, slamming the money on the table. Then disappeared. I jumped. My eyes darted around the room, but Dias was truly gone.

“Where…”

“It doesn’t matter Mr. Bones.” She interrupted. “Go home. This buys you freedom, the dog, but not the girl.”

I scooped up the cash, waiting to see what she would do. Several hundred dollars. Then everything disappeared. My legs wouldn’t hold me. Messir Blanc approached with all the grace and dignity a magic old man might have. I emptied my hands with Dias’ money into his straw hat. The old black man dumped the cash out on the ground and held his hat out again, expectantly. I felt the chain snake off my neck, through my fingers and land in the hat. Messir Blanc inspected it.

“Bon. Dias would take it from you. Now it is safe.” The man faded, leaving me by Mary’s Convent, unbound by the chain but rabbit-scared.

For more details: https://www.collectiveinkbooks.com/moon-books/authors/dorothy-abrams

Dorothy Abrams, known as Anemone Webweaver in the magickal community has practiced and taught Witchcraft, paganism, and core shamanism since 1984. Co-founder of the former Web PATH Center, a pagan church and teaching center in Clyde, New York USA, Dorothy served as priestess and teacher weaving the Web of community among local pagans as they celebrated the solar and lunar sabbats. Material for Identity and the Quartered Circle and her other non-fiction titles on pagan thought and practice are compiled from her original seminar materials in eclectic Wicca I-IV, healing, tarot and shamanic intensives. The Wiccan seminars guide students from the introductory level through initiations as healer, storyteller and sage. The shamanic intensives guide students through the practice of drum trance journeys all the way to soul retrievals. With her partner late Merlin and other members of the Web PATH she practiced Reiki and chakra healing. She taught an introductory course on A-mazing Tarot at the local community college When Merlin crossed to the Summerland in 2022, Webweaver moved to a small village in the Finger Lakes and gathered some friends together to celebrate the seasons. . They have called themselves the Brookside Witches.