“None can use black magic without straining the soul to the uttermost—and staining it into the bargain. None can inflict suffering without enduring the same. None can send death by spells and sorcery without walking on the brink of death’s own abyss, aye, and dripping his own blood into it. The forces black magic evokes are like two-edged poisoned swords with grips studded with scorpion stings. Only a strong man, leather-handed, in whom hate and evil are very powerful, can wield them, and he only for a space.”

–Fritz Leiber

Each of the three wooden steps up to the front porch creaked with Max’s weight. Her petite frame didn’t add much, but it was enough to slightly shift the old boards and rusty nails holding the frail stairs together. She stepped carefully and slowly as if tiptoeing around egg shells.

Peering into the open doorway, Max noticed how dark the interior of the house was kept. A warm scent of exotic spices, maybe Pine-Sol, and what could have been molded cheeses escaped in her direction; she didn’t particularly enjoy the combined smells. Strung bulb lights lined the hallway, reminding her of the manner in which she decorated her dorm room a couple of years prior. They weren’t quite as a big as the globe lights Max used, but they were the same shape. Several bulbs had busted and frayed along the string, an ominous electric buzzing alternating from each spot. The ones that were still on and giving off light, were so dim she wondered how they continued to work.

 “Be careful, Maximus,” Chloe’s voice echoed through her, smooth as silk, reminding Max she wasn’t doing this alone. “Stay on your guard.” 

You’ve still got my back, right?  

Max sought affirmation from her best friend for the slight confidence boost she needed from time to time. At that moment, she needed Chloe more than anything.

“Always. I told you I’d never leave you, didn’t I?” Chloe huffed as she spoke, apparently a bit upset Max would even have to ask.

You’re always so cute when you get angry. Max grinned, slightly. Did I ever tell you that?  

She didn’t smile much these days, though pleasant thoughts of the person she cared about the most always seemed to fill her heart.

Chloe didn’t answer.

Max cautiously continued her approach, slinking past the open-door frame onto the carpet inside. As she crossed into the living room from the wooden entryway flooring, she heard what sounded like music inside the house. It was muffled, and it sounded like it was being made by one of those antique gramophones. She couldn’t tell exactly where it was coming from, but from her location, it seemed to be above her, on the next level somewhere.

“H-Hello?!” Max called out, voice trembling a bit, wishing Chloe wasn’t suddenly giving her the silent treatment, but also, she wished her partner-in-time was physically there with her for support. She felt safer with Chloe around. However, that was impossible, at least for the moment.

For some reason, she tried to soften her breathing, making it much quieter. She could hear each breath slowly inhaling in, and slowly exhaling out, but her intention did little to lower her own volume.

Several seconds later, Max received a response from the general direction of the music.

“AYYY! It’s Miss Photographer… Bike Rider! I’ve been expecting you.” The voice was dull; though not so much so to hinder understanding. Much like the woman from the window, the man’s vowel pronunciation sounded like what Max would describe as Jamaican, though she couldn’t be sure, and she didn’t want to incorrectly assume his dialect. He was definitely older based on the scruffiness and bass from his vocals. “I’ll be out in a moment. Make yourself some tea. It’s the beverage of the soul you know, Dearie. The kettle is ready on the stove. Mugs and glasses are in the cabinet by the refrigerator. My handmade teabags are in the porcelain cylinder on the counter. My tea is to die for.”

Max looked around the small partition between the living room and the kitchen, spotting the steaming kettle with her glance. It was an old, coppery color that was charred black around the bottom edges. She noticed the stove itself seemed out of place. It was too ornate and new for the other outdated appliances nearby.

“I dunno about you putting something from this gross place in your body, Max.” Chloe’s tone was worried, though her voice filled Max’s heart once more.

“No, I’m good,” the brunette responded in the direction of the man’s voice. “I’ll just wait here.”

“Suit yourself. After a night of getting properly zooted, this tea will cure what ails you; no doubt about that, Photographer.” He chuckled joyfully to himself. “It has been my faithful assistant all day.”

“Zooted?” Chloe asked . “Who the fuck says, ‘zooted’?” 

Max’s smile widened as she glanced around the kitchen. She noticed dozens of glass beer bottles and flasks resting empty where they sat. Several were gathered by the sink, one was on top of the microwave, a few were on the counter near the toaster, and more still were miscellaneously spread out in other spots. It reminded her of Chloe’s room after they reunited in Arcadia Bay.

Max snooped around, taking careful notice of the details of the area. The kitchen floor creaked and softly popped underneath her steps from uneven, warped boards below the triangular-patterned laminate. It had a green hue to it, she thought, though the dimness of the house could have made her perceive things differently, masking the actual color. Maybe it was more of a yellow or a blue-grey.

This place actually looks clean besides these beer bottles and that gross smell.  

Max stepped to the refrigerator and looked at the handle, wondering if she should open it up and glance inside.

“No, Max. What if he gets pissed. Did you know you’re so fucking nosy. Have I ever told you THAT? Even if I think it’s cute, he might not appreciate that shit.” 

Max smiled again.

“Photographer,” the man said as he stepped into view from across the living room, startling Max in the process, causing her to jump and take a step backwards. She had been so deep in her own head that she didn’t hear the man coming down the stairs. “Welcome to my humble abode, Dearie.” He had a large grin on his face and his arms were held out to the side, palms facing the ceiling.

“ Be careful, Max.” 

“Are… are you the Voodoo Man? I’ve come a long way to meet you.”

The man chuckled and moved into the kitchen with Max.

“I have been called many things: witch, sorcerer, ghoul, Voodoo Man, and even the devil herself. Which is crazy talk; I’ve met the devil and I ain’t her.” The man laughed as he pulled his dreads back, tying them off with some sort of thick, earth-toned band.

Max took another step backwards, forcing her back against the wall beside the small pantry door. As she finally got a chance to look at the person standing before her, a shiver ran through her body. He was at least as tall as Chloe with a medium-length, grey beard and scars peppering his face on both sides. He was shirtless, though Max was thankful he had pants on. She looked down towards the floor and saw that the man’s bare feet were hideous. His long toenails were sharp and flaky, and his feet looked like they could use a ton of lotion.

“But I suppose I am more of a Bokor than anything,” the man continued. “I dabble in as much darkness as I do light. You see, there is an evenness to this world. Without the darkness there would be no light, and vice versa. If you turn to run from the darkness, you will be lost in its very shadow, Dearie.”

“I don’t like this, Max. Get ready to fucking run!” 

The man finished with his hair and strutted up to the kettle. After opening the cabinet and placing a mug on the counter, he retrieved an item from the cylindrical container and placed it in the mug. Looking at Max from the corner of his eyes, he slowly reached back up and obtained another mug.

“You are not comfortable around me yet; I can see that. But you came all this way to ask for my help. You will have to trust me if this is going to work.” He proceeded to prepare two cups of tea. “If I drink the same mixture, you will see that everything will be fine, yes?”

“I dunno, Max. He has a point, but… fuck. Are you really ready to risk your life now? Is this really worth it?” 

Suddenly, Max was two years in the past, the day after the funeral…

The box Joyce had given Max with some of Chloe’s belongings was lying upside down beside her dorm room bed. Max sat cross-legged on the floor among many items she spread out around herself. Numerous photos, William’s camera, miscellaneous trinkets, and Chloe’s three-bullet necklace all scattered around the area as Max sat alone, mind reeling. Her thoughts jumped around between memories as she was still trying to process what all had happened.

Max hoisted the necklace to about eye level, placing it around her head. Then she slid it down to her neck where it rested in place, bullets hanging to her chest. She ran her fingers over all three bullet tips in order from left to right, and then she pressed each one into her skin; not enough to draw blood, but just enough to feel a slight pinprick of pain for stimulation.

Next, she located Chloe’s blue beanie on top of her bed. She twisted around and stretched backwards to fetch it. Once in hand, the brunette pushed it to her nose and mouth. She took a deep breath through her nostrils and it caused her heart to skip a beat.

God, I can still smell you, Chloe. As weird as it sounds, I miss your smell.  

She took several other sniffs as if her best friend’s scent was some sort of drug and she couldn’t get enough. Finally, she finished huffing the beanie and slid it onto her own head, pulling it down just over the top of her ears.

Among the objects strewn around the room was a large box of nearly empty Kleenex. Her trashcan was filled with used tissue, which contained enough tears and snot they could probably fill the Blackwell swimming pool.

The Blackwell swimming pool. 

Max sighed.

Chloe looked so beautiful that night. Fuck! 

Everything reminded Max of her. She felt she owed it to her best friend to mourn and hurt; to never forget or move on. She wasn’t even sure if that was possible for her. During the week they had just spent together, she realized they were connected at such a deep level it was mind blowing. She probably always knew they were connected by something bigger than their individual selves, though she didn’t understand what it meant until recently. Max and Chloe were tethered together through life and death. They were one another’s person, and Max foolishly allowed her soulmate to slip from this world.

I’m so sorry, Chloe! The tears started up again. I don’t think I can do this without you. My entire soul aches. I’m so empty, Chloe. So fucking empty!  

“There’s an otter in my water,” Chloe’s voice wafted through the room.

“Chl-Chloe? I-Is that you?”

“You look hotter in my beanie and necklace than I ever could. Oh,” Chloe chuckled as she did prior to saying something she believed was about to be hilarious, “now, you’re a hotter otter in my water.” 

Max couldn’t help but giggle. Even if what her friend said was corny, Chloe’s emphasis on her words was always perfectly placed. Max also felt less lonely when she could hear Chloe’s voice. It was almost like she was really there with her.

But you’re not really here with me, are you? You’re only my imagination. 

“I feel crazy, Chloe,” Max lamented towards the wall above her futon. “Am I going insane? When you talk, I really hear you. Like… really, really hear you. It doesn’t sound like a voice in my head.”

Max fingered the three-bullet necklace still hanging in place. She twisted it around, tightening it to her neck as to not let blood or oxygen escape.

“Max? What the fuck are you doing?! No way!” 

“I can’t do this. I’m coming to join you.”

“ NO, MAX! Don’t risk your own life! It’s not worth it! JUST STOP!” 

“Snap out of it, Dearie.”

Max heard a loud slapping crash.

The Voodoo Man’s voice and his clapping hands brought Max back to the present. His claps seemed intensified as her mind adjusted back to the present.

“Where did you go, Photographer? I swear you were lost to the void for a few minutes. I was worried about you.”

“I…” Max shook away the memory and attempted to refocus her thoughts. “I was reliving something from my past. A bad memory.”

“Happens frequently, yes? Here. Take this tea and join me for a chat out back. You need some fresh air and we have a lot to discuss.” The man actually sounded genuine. Max still didn’t trust him fully, but she could tell he meant her no harm, at least for the moment.

“Yeah, okay.”

“Be careful, Max. I’m fucking serious. You don’t know shit about this man!” 

I will, Chloe.  

After taking the warm mug by its handle, she followed behind. The man grabbed a middle-length, red coat with vivid purple lining from a hook by the front door. They walked through the kitchen, living room, and out the back door to a small concrete patio. In the middle of the square, cemented section, there sat a tiny bistro table with two chairs on either end. A burn-barrel was off to the far side, still smoldering from the apparent party thrown there the evening before.

That explains the Pine-Sol smell when I first walked in.  

With an upturned palm, the man motioned to the chair opposite his own. “Sit, please.” His tone seemed to alternate between playfulness and seriousness. It was tough for Max to tell which was more dominant.

The man took the first sip and smiled at Max as he swallowed it down.

Max scooted the chair out to allow space for her body to slide between it and the table, then she sat. She raised the chartreuse rim to her mouth, taking her first sip of tea. The warm liquid slid across her tongue and cascaded down her throat. She had plenty of experience with hot beverages such as coffee and tea, so the liquid’s temperature didn’t bother her in the least.

“This actually tastes good.” Max breathed in after swallowing. “It’s… earthy. Not bad at all.”

“Yes, I made it myself.” The man took his seat with a grin on his face. “It is my own concoction, but the key ingredient is turmeric. It’ll makes your skin bright and healthy, Time Traveler.” He slurped down a large gulp then licked his lips with a smacking sound.

Wait, what? Time Traveler? He knows about me. 

“Is she still with you?” the individual across the table asked, setting his cup down and leaning across, closer towards Max.

“What?” She didn’t know what the man meant, but she suspected he was talking about Chloe.

“The one you lost. What is her name?”

“It’s Chloe. P-Price. Chloe Price.” She couldn’t remember the last time she said the girl’s full name aloud. It made her both shudder in despair and filled her heart with joy at the thought.

“Max? I’m not sure this is a good idea,”  Chloe warned.

“Chloe, huh? I’m seeing blue hair and blue eyes. That sound about right? She’s really pretty, Dearie.”

“She’s gorgeous,” Max purred.

“The only reason now that anyone would seek me out, is to find something they lost – someONE, more specifically. You think I can help bring her back. Yah?” He smiled as he spoke, most likely knowing the answer before asking.

Without delay, Max responded. “I’ll do anything to get my Chloe back. Anything.” She craned her head inward. “I’ll fight to the ends of the earth if I must. You’re my last hope, uh, Bokor. Please. Anything!” She heard the desperation in her own voice but didn’t care. Max felt vulnerable but it didn’t matter anymore. She left her integrity in her own wake two years earlier.

The man erupted with laughter, catching Max off-guard. After a moment, he regained his breath. “Anything, Photographer? That’s a lot of things. I mean, there are options, if you insist. You came to the right person, but I can see your heart. This journey you want me to send you on will test you. It will bore a hole deep down into your very soul. Is that something you are prepared to face?”

“I’m ready to give my life for her.” Max puffed her chest with confidence. “I don’t care what happens to me.” She spoke matter-of-factly.

I. WILL. DIE. FOR. YOU. CHLOE!

The man reached inside his jacket pocket and pulled out a vial of purple powder, shaking it as he held it up to the dimming light. It sizzled and buzzed like tiny firecrackers as he shook. He uncorked the glass item and brought it to his nose. After a gentle sniff, the Bokor coughed several times.

“Damn, this shit is strong, Dearie. But it is your only chance for what you are wanting.” The Voodoo Man stood and leaned in even closer. “We add it to your tea and it will restore your power. The rewind. That is what you want, yah?”

“Fuck no, Max. I won’t let you put that goddamn shit in your body. It’s not worth it!” 

Chloe, if this is the only way now, I’ll take my chances. 

“Do it,” she commanded, inching backwards, watching the man’s arm extend over her teacup.

He rotated his hand ninety degrees, allowing a pinch of the glass container’s contents to fall out. The water reacted violently with bubbles fizzing to the surface as the powder mixed in, almost frothing over the sides. As quickly as the chemical reaction began, it subsided. Max’s once caramel-colored beverage was purple and looked more like something radioactive from a cartoon than tea.

“You can’t be seriously considering drinking that shit, Max.” 

I have to, Chloe. 

“It’s all up to you now, Photographer. Drink this potion and your journey to salvation will begin.” The Voodoo Man relaxed back in his chair, placing his hands behind his head. A large grin stretched the skin on his face. For the first time, Max really got a good look at him. His eyes were a radiant emerald green. She had never seen anything like it. With nighttime rolling in, his irises appeared to glow like Christmas tree lights in the dark.

“I-I…”

“Listen,” Chloe began. “I know you want us to be together again, but you can’t harm yourself. Maybe it’s time to just let me go…” 

“Fuck no!” Max spoke. “I can’t!”

The man sat up startled, and then stood to his feet. He clenched his jaw and lowered his eyebrows.

“Oh, that wasn’t directed at you. I’m sorry. I… I just…”

“Dearie, you came to me.” His tone was direct. “I have not asked for anything from you except trust. But if you need to sleep on it, so be it. The night is upon us now. Stay here this evening and we can try again tomorrow.  There’s a second master bedroom upstairs. You will be safe and unbothered.”

“No, Max. That’s a hard no. You can’t sleep here. Bad shit could happen!” 

“Oh, I can’t stay here. Thank you for the offer, though. It is very generous.”

“It is probably best to seek shelter under a roof. I have a perfectly good one.” His voice sounded endearing. “Nighttime around these parts can be… tricky, and cold. You would have to drive for hours in the dark just to get back to town, and the road to town will become an endless labyrinth.”

A breeze picked up and chilled Max’s skin causing her to shiver.

“Look, I once had a daughter. You remind me of her. I have done some… questionable things in my life, but protecting her wasn’t one of them. You can trust me, Max. I am only telling you what is best. Come inside, grab some regular tea and a bite to eat, then retire to your room. I will meet you right back here in the morning. Think about your decision. I can offer you is a path forward, but you have to be willing. I won’t force you to do anything.”

Max considered for a moment, waiting for Chloe to respond with her opinion. After a minute or so passed by, without any comment from Chloe, Max finally agreed, nodding her head.

“Okay, yeah. Thank you for your hospitality.” As she stood, the man plopped back down on his chair.

“I will take your mug back inside later on, no need for you to bother yourself with it. I want to sit here alone for a while. Go ahead and go in. Check the refrigerator for some pasta salad I made this morning. It should be perfectly settled by now. Bowls are in the cabinet; silverware is in the drawer. Upstairs, your room is located at the end of the hallway and on the left. It is important that you only go inside the room I have described for you. Do not so much as peek inside the others. Do you understand?”

“Yes, I understand.”

“Good. Now go. Have a goodnight, Dearie.”

The man chuckled as Max walked away and back towards the house. She wasn’t too thrilled to stay the night in a place like that, but she didn’t seem to have many other options.

He seems like a good man, Chloe. 

“Don’t be so naïve. He seems the way he needs to seem, Max. I don’t trust him. He’s a goddamn voodoo dealer. That means he dabbles in some pretty dark shit. You have to be careful!” 

I know. I know. You keep saying that. 

Max did as the Bokor suggested. She scooped out a bowl of pasta salad and poured a fresh tea, then she headed upstairs. Each step creaked and squeaked as she stepped closer towards her destination. Passing by several other rooms, Max made sure not to even consider taking a peek inside, though her curious nature made it difficult. Especially when she heard music playing inside one of the rooms. By her estimation, it had to be the room the woman in the window was in. She shook away the idea of looking inside and continued on her path.

When she arrived at her room, she opened the door and found a nice, cozy bedroom waiting for her; nothing like she imagined. The sheets were pulled up perfectly on the bed, and there was a bathroom that seemed clean enough. She placed her meal on the dresser and made her way inside to wash off.

After a quick shower, Max scarfed down her meal. She didn’t know how hungry she was until that moment. The brunette walked over to the solitary window to catch a view of outside. When she pulled the curtain back and looked out, she could see trees, bushes, and other foliage swaying. The wind whistled a spooky song that made Max’s skin crawl. A slight mist had begun falling, and she hoped her bike would be fine outside until the morning. The moonlight pressed through the gathering clouds, which allowed some visibility– at least to an extent.

She was both emotionally and physically drained. It felt like years had passed since she began on her path to find the Voodoo Man. Now that she was there, she felt a sense of fear rising up from inside her. She needed to get Chloe back somehow, and this is where her search took her.

“It is what it is,” she whispered to herself.

Max sat on the side of the bed and swung her legs on top. She closed her eyes and imagined what it would be like once she and Chloe reunited… again.

Tomorrow, I’m drinking that potion, Chloe. Whatever happens, happens. Either way, I’m coming for you.