Little Ritual Drawings

There was an area near the back of Children’s Clothing, near Giftware, that the cameras couldn’t see properly. Byron and I were standing inside that dead zone.

‘That old lady.’ I said.

‘Which one?’

‘The one you said was into hoodoo.’

‘You said she was into hoodoo.’ he corrected. ‘I had never even heard that word before you said it. I said she was into voodoo.’

I held up my hand. ‘Let's start over.’ I said. ‘That old lady you said was into voodoo.’ 

‘Yes.’ he said. 

‘I don’t think she is.’

‘Oh, she definitely is.’

‘I find it hard to believe.’

‘No, she is.’ he insisted. ‘One time, she got into an argument with one of the cashiers. That cashier, Linda was her name, she found this little envelope in her locker. It was filled with little weird voodoo diagrams.’

‘Voodoo diagrams?’

‘I dunno what you call them. Little ritual drawings.’

I stared at him. ‘Uh huh. And?’

‘Well, right after that Linda got cervical cancer.’ he looked at me smugly. 

‘And?’

‘Well, you think she just got cervical cancer from nowhere?’

‘It's been known to happen.’

‘Trust me.’ he said. ‘Plus, Katherine in Hosiery lives near her and says her house is really spooky.’

‘Oh, well it must be true then.’

‘Told you.’

‘Why do you think she hasn't used her black magic to fix her cataracts?’ I asked him.

‘Oh those are probably fake.’ he said. ‘So she seems harmless.’

‘Yeah, probably.’