Liz K. McIver - Riddle of the Firstborn

RIDDLE OF THE
FIRSTBORN

LIZ K. MCIVER

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Copyright 2006, 2014 Liz K. McIver.

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without the written prior permission of the author.

ISBN: 978-1-4907-3471-2 (sc)
ISBN: 978-1-4907-3473-6 (hc)
ISBN: 978-1-4907-3472-9 (e)

Library of Congress Control Number: 2014907923

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Trafford rev. 05/23/2014

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CONTENTS

Mary Alice, The Inspi ration

CHAPTER 1
1974
THE RIDDLE

C ARROLTON, GEORGIA, 1974, LIZ had been seeing demons for years the night she was summoned to her mothers death bed. I think I can help whispers the eighty-year old MARY ALICE, her silver hair flowing over chocolate skin and Indian cheekbones. MARY ALICE had divorced out of the family years earlier to be rid of dark spirits and an alcoholic husband, only rejoining LIZ and her siblings a decade later.

What do you mean, m? LIZ touches a tear shed dropped onto her moms face and notices for the first time how alike they look. Thought youd work it out on your own, Lizzie. Its deep in you. You gotta find it, confront it, or it will kill you alive. chokes MARY ALICE. LIZ tries to quiet her mother, knowing well the it that they both fear. Life is a riddle, girl. You dont know your history, you cant fight back. I didnt want you to know. Afraid the knowledge might finally do you in. But I realize now, Lizzie, the damage was done over a hundred years ago. LIZ asks everyone in the small hospital room to leave and shuts the door behind them. You okay, ma? MARY ALICE ignores her 30 year-old reincarn ation.

Theres a Warlock at the root of our family tree barked MARY ALICE. He seeded the family culture with African voodoo and later got it all mixed up with American Indian hoodoo. Its a mix thats like a curse, baby. A curse on the family! It aint about niggas and injuns. Its simple. Its just because he wanted to see the future, LIZ, Future who? Somewhere in the year 1850, our ancestral father, JEAN BAPATISTE FLOYD, escaped Jamaica, basically for being a Warlock. But they wanted to hang him for conducting voodoo ceremonies during a time when slave uprising all over the Virgin Islands were driving the white slavers frantic. The Warlock and his wife stowed away on a boat to America and dodged slavery here by posing as Indians. They somehow made it to Ft. Apache, Arizona and thats where all hell broke loose. What kinda hell, ma, LIZ says, now h ooked.

Look at you; youre an Afro-American sista, two different Indian witches, and the distant granddaughter of an Rastafarian Warlock. MARY ALICE grips her daughters hand Who wouldnt want to kill herself? Youre messed up, Lizzie, and troubled with spirits you know nothing about. But its not your fault. Hell, it aint even my fault and I admit some of mine go deep in you. MARY ALICE pulls her daughter close. Thats why its a curse. A curse you must break. ME!, LIZ pulls away.

I know that theres a riddle, baby. I dont know the riddle or the answer to the riddle. I just know that theres one in every family. You solve this family riddle; you break this familys curse. And you, Lizzie, will be free. LIZ Riddles curses me, Im the one nobody tells anything. And now you want to throw me at the family demons? Youre the firstborn daughter, Lizzie, in a long line of firstborn sons and daughters. All of them had the nature. Its got to be you. Plus, Id die so nicely if youd just do this one thing for me, says MARY ALICE in a fragile voice. Thats cold, mama, LIZ scolds, alright, but you do something for me dont die tonight. Its the thirteenth. And you wonder why youre the one? MARY ALICE scolds her back. You must now know the dark history of your people. And, if you want to live, baby, you must find the riddle and solv e it.

Any major dysfunction that plagued an entire family was considered a riddle to people of my moms time, thought LIZ, not knowing whether she could find this riddle, much less figure it out. And how would it help her in th e end?

CHAPTER 2
1848
THE WARLOCK

I N THE LATE 1840s, a rash of slave revolts spread all across the Virgin Islands, MARY ALICE had said, in so many words. White sugar cane plantation owners began restricting freedoms among free and enslaved islanders. The practice of voodoo in Jamaica, especially among the Warlocks, was forbidden upon threat of death, for fear they may have instigated some of the revolting. This act took away the shamans livelihood as he would charge for his magic. But some practiced anyway and were hanged. Some got away, like the Warlock, who in the middle of the night, slipped onto an American ship bound for Baltimore with his pregnant wife.

The Warlock had assembled the Tribe of Thirteen, the night before, in an empty room save for a huge bowl of exotic fish in the center of a pentagram around which they sat, caped in black, long black dreadlocks, gaunt faces and blank stares. They began to chant until the Warlock touched the fish bowl. A horrid eel floated to the top on its back, its ragged mouth agape. Dead. I will find the Apache tribe and the peyote. I will see the future. In time, you will visit me. You too will see the future, said the Wa rlock.

What was his name, ma? queried LIZ. JEAN BAPTISTE FLOYD, the Apaches just called him the Warlock, MARY ALICE remembers. JOHN FLOYD junior, his firstborn son, was birthed on that boat ride to the states. He would grow up at FT. APACHE, an Indian reservation in Phoenix, Arizona. Little John would learn everything the Warlock knew about voodoo, and after marrying a fiery Apache girl named MINNIE TWOGUNS, he also knew nearly everything that Apache medicine could scare you with. He spoke nearly every Indian dialect on the continent and was often the go-between when Apaches and whites traded. For all his wisdom and knowledge, he was called the Professor. Two magics that aint got no reason being together now start to mix.

CHAPTER 3
1890
TWOGUNS AND THE PROFESSOR

B Y THE 1890s, said MARY ALICE, crop failure hit Ft. Apache and Indians got to running. The old Warlock by now dead, the PROFESSOR and his wife TWOGUNS joined the migration. They journeyed COLUMBUS, OHIO, sometimes through hostile Indian territory, and sometimes dodging slavers by creeping into Cincinnati, Ohio, and hiding in AUNT POLLYS basement, a distant-aunt of the Floyds, and one of the official stops along the UNDERGROUND RAILROAD. The Floyds would finally steal on to COLUMBUS, OHIO where freedom and a better life were said to exist for runaway slaves, native Americans, and the blacks hiding out amongst them.

LIZ, now sure she wont see any riddle, asks her mother, Ma, you sure you want to do this? You got seventy years of history left to give me. And we dont know how many minutes you have left to live.