“Quit your panicking. Let’s get started. We only have so much time before this old lady will need a nap.”
“Sure, sure,” responded Ophelia distractedly. She sat back in the chair and decided it was best to humor her grandmother instead of pushing her and questioning her on beliefs she held long and dear.
Mawmaw reached over and took Ophelia’s hands in hers and began praying in Latin. Ophelia was perplexed by the suddenness of her actions and tried to ease herself into the rhythm of her favorite person’s voice. Closing her eyes along with her grandma, she listened to the alluring sounds of the prayers.
Suddenly, Mawmaw slapped Ophelia’s right hand, making her eyes shoot open.
“What!” exclaimed Ophelia.
“What are you thinking of? Nothing?”
“Well, you didn’t tell me what the hell you were doing, so yeah,” she said, cocking her head for added attitude.
A slow smile crept across Mawmaw’s wrinkly face. “For Christ’s sake, think of something happy.”
“Okay, give me a second,” said Ophelia as she closed her eyes again and shook her hands out.
Conjuring a happy thought was more difficult than she anticipated. So much of her life recently had been filled with sadness and fear. Her last happy memory that came to her was when she was holding sweet Theo as she and Jade strolled around Audubon Zoo. The two friends quickly realized that Theo was far too young to enjoy any part of the zoo when he didn’t even look when the tiger roared in its exhibit. Her mind suddenly flicked to an image of her tiger standing over her in the early hours of the morning when Delphine died.
Immediately, Mawmaw dropped her hands. Ophelia openedher eyes, locking them with Mawmaw’s amber eyes, the same color as hers.
“You have a tiger,” Mawmaw whispered, curiosity coating her words.
“I…umm…how did you know that?” Ophelia asked.
“I could feel its presence just now. You were just thinking about your protector, weren’t you?”
“Feel its presence? Like, sensed it or…can you read minds?” asked Ophelia, horrified. How far would her beliefs be stretched today?
“Calm ya’ self. It’s not like that. I can’t read minds. Thank God. Can you imagine those poor souls who hear everyone’s thoughts? Lord, have mercy. There was a mind reader two towns over, and I tried to help ease the voices, but he went crazy. Ended up in some dreadful psych ward. Horrible, horrible gift. Very difficult to control.”
Ophelia just sat there, dumbfounded.
“I could feel your happiness,” Mawmaw continued. “Sense it, really. When your protector entered your mind, I was able to feel it acutely. That doesn’t happen often, but a protector is such a massive energy that it’s easy to pick up on. With my gift—soon to be your gift—I can sense strong feelings,” continued Mawmaw. “But only when I lay my hands on them, though. For me, I can always feel it in my gut.” Mawmaw patted her belly. “I can only detect strong feelings like happiness, pain, sorrow. Those types of things. And as for your protector, I have one too.”
“You do? Is your protector a tiger as well?”
“Mine is a black bear.” Mawmaw leaned forward and stared at her gravely. “This is very important, Ophelia. When did you start seeing your protector?”
“Um…I saw it once when I lived in New York, and I saw it recently. Why?” she asked with a twinge of concern.
“Have you seen your protector outside of a dream?”
Ophelia nodded in response. “Only once. The other times Iwas asleep—or thought I was asleep, I suppose.” She rubbed her face. This was a lot.
“Okay. Listen. If you ever see it when you are conscious again, that’s when you know you are in imminent danger. When your tiger appears in your dream, it’s trying to warn you or ward off bad spirits in your vicinity.”
“But what isit—this protector, my tiger?”
“Like I said, it’s a protector of sorts. Some Traiteurs in Louisiana also came from Native American descent. It’s possible through merging our families and cultures, our lineage received the animal protective spirit from them. I’m not sure. Maybe one day you can investigate our ancestry through one of those crazy websites.”
Ophelia nodded again, still lost in thought. “What am I being protected from?” she murmured to herself. Her heart was pounding. Her mind immediately went to the serial killer and, of course, the attack in New York.
“I don’t know, dear,” Mawmaw said, patting her long gray braid in a nervous manner. “It’s best you find out, though.”
Ophelia pressed her hand to her chest. She could feel her breath becoming shallower and her heart beating faster. “And it only shows itself when its person is in danger?”
“Pretty much, yes,” said Mawmaw, smoothing her braid over her left shoulder. “I’m not surprised that you have one. It’s common in our family, but why you are seeing it now…That is something you need…” Mawmaw trailed on, but Ophelia couldn’t hear. She stood and walked toward the door.
