“No.”

“Then I’ll be back in two days.”

“Leroy are we really going to get married in Mama’s house?”

“Jesus, Cypress, what do you think I come from? First, I haveta ask for your hand. Then we get the preacher.”

“Oh Leroy . . .”

“Don’t ‘Oh Leroy’ me, ’less you gonna give me some.”

“You know, I been savin’ it for ya.”

“Really, is that the truth, now?”

“Darlin’, you know what an ol’ fashioned girl I am.”

Chapter 21

Sassafrass had tried everything to be a decent Ibejii, a Santera. She desperately wanted to make Ochá. To wear white with her élèkes. To keep the company of the priests & priestesses. The New World Found Collective where she & Mitch had been living for over a year offered spiritual redemption, if little else. The harvests had been meager so far. Everybody was from cities; never seen a hoe or hay before for that matter. Then, there were the problems of grinding grains, building homes, fetching water, so many things no nationalist dealt with in Newark or Los Angeles.

Mitch just made things harder. Always complaining, refusing to work with the other men, disrespecting the deities, cursing & reminiscing ’bout times that weren’t really all that good. Shooting galleries on Main Street. Passing bad bills in Long Beach. The taste of Johnny Walker Black in Watts on a steaming summer night. He wandered from the collective frequently, returning incoherent, dirty, unacceptable.

On the other hand, Sassafrass loved her new life. She made cloth for all the collective, for feasts, for rituals, for sale to tourists come to look at these New Afrikans. Sassafrass was respected, would have been sought after by men of cleaned spirits had it not been for Mitch.

Mama Mbewe begged her to end this relationship. She threw the cowry shells to see what the spirits saw in the future. She marked Sassafrass with cacario, the white chalk, that cleaned evil from the soul. Again & again, Mama Mbewe shook her head slowly, sadly.

“It says you must give up a man. There is a man leading you away from righteousness. A man unfit for the blessings of the spirits.”

Sassafrass knew that already. Only two days before the Padrino, Oba Babafumé, had sent her for a live white chicken, which he’d held over her head, before he sent her with 5 fresh oranges & the chicken to throw in moving waters, that Oshun & Shango might come to her aid. Come to her aid, to remove the influence of Mitch, ruled by Elégua & Oya. Mitch had been wearing white for months, not to make Ochá (Sainthood), but to curtail his natural instincts.

It’d been useless. Shango’s Birthday was approaching. Sassafrass was busy weaving a gigantic red cotton & raffia hanging in His honor. Mitch was nowhere to be seen.