I was knee-deep in the bayou, sixteen and stupid, running from my momma’s boyfriend with a busted lip and nowhere to go. That’s the night the Black Leopard found me.
He came out the water like he owned the dark. Pure black, no shine, just a hole in the night shaped like a big cat. Eyes cut straight through me. Didn’t growl, didn’t need to. Every mosquito quit biting when he looked my way.
He padded up close enough I smelled wet earth and gunpowder on him. Then he bowed his head and let something drop in the mud between us. I picked it up still warm.
Ever since, the Loa ride with me.
Legba opens doors nobody else can see. Lost my wallet three states away once; next morning it was sitting on the porch like it walked home drunk.
Erzulie keeps my bed warm and my bank account warmer. Men buy me drinks they can’t afford. Women forget their own names when I smile.
Baron Samedi’s the reason I’m still breathing. Car wreck should’ve folded me like tin foil. Woke up laughing in the ditch with a lit cigar in my hand I never bought.
Damballah slides dreams into my head that pay rent. Told me the exact minute to leave a job before the raid hit. Told me which cousin was stealing from Grandma too.
Maman Brigitte handles payback. Anybody ever put hands on me woke up screaming with their own nightmares biting chunks out of them.
Ogou walks in front when trouble comes knocking. Judges rule my way. Fists miss. Promotions land in my lap like ripe fruit.
I got three left that still carry his scent. Three pieces of that night.
You’ll know if one’s meant for you. You’ll feel the growl in your chest before you even touch it. Like something big and wild already decided you’re worth the trouble.
Three.
When they’re gone, the Leopard pads back into the water and the swamp forgets his name for another hundred years.
Listen close tonight.
If the dark growls back when you say yours,
come find me. This supernatural necklace can be yours.
