No-Flesh and Not-A-Man (gen, lyricwheel fic, Charlotte-centric)
Disclaimer: Charlotte, Walker and Methos are the property of Davis/Panzer
and the HL gurus. I do not make any money from this...laaadedah. This is a
Lyric Wheel story. The lyrics are from Greenday's "Good Riddance (Time of
Your Life)" and were messengered to me by Gillian. This song just rocks.
Once again, however the Muse of "it's the spirit of the song" has seized me
and so, once again, it is the spirit of the song. Yah..
Oh, I should explain, the voodoo Gods I have used are as follows:
Damballah-the allfather; birth and death, depicted as a snake. Legba-God of
doorways, specifically the plane between men and the divine. Erzulie-The
goddess of love and sexuality. Ghede-the god of death. Actually, they
aren't gods, but called loas, or manifestations of the "divine", in their
simplest forms. These gods are much more, but this will suffice.
"Maman Marie" refers to Marie Laveau, the great voodoo queen of New Orleans
in the early 19th century. They say she was impervious to the fever, walked
on water, and that her very spit burned flesh. She was leader to her people
as well. To this day, voodooiennes and houngans in New Orleans claim
relations with her to boost their authority.
No-Flesh and Not-A-Man
by Amand-r
----------------------------
I am dead.
That would be easy for me to realize, as I am, not here, twisting unfettered
by the body, sliding in and out of homes in the Garden District of New
Orleans. I am no-flesh. I am manna. I am Damballah, I am Legba, I am
Erzulie.
********
When I was a little girl, before Walker bought me at the block, they slapped
chains on my momma. She screamed as she fought to reach me, and her tignon
came undone, black curls tumbling down her shoulders. I remember that the
most, that hair falling dark and molten in my eye. She wore a yellow
kerchief, so that I could see her in the fields. That color winked through
the cotton, I could see it from the house.
It was hot that day, I had been chewing on cane and husking corn in the back
of the house when I heard the noise, and went running. Master and his men
hauled my momma away; she'd jumped the broom with another man without her
Master's permission. They loaded her in the wagon, and drove her away. It
was that simple.
I never saw my momma again.
********
I am no-flesh, and I am Erzulie. In New Orleans, where I died, the dead
stick to the houses like the humid dew. We writhe around the trees and
louvered doors. We never leave. I am no-flesh. I live the tumbling out of
the window into the street over and over. Benjamin sprints to my side in
this dead-dream, and I am no-flesh.
Benjamin is not human. Neither am I.
********
There were years after my momma left me before I was sold to Master Walker.
I was seventeen, already spoiled by my master, but childless. I had killed
the first two in my womb, eating kava root and pennyroyal that burned my
insides something awful.
Master Walker bought me, and loaded me on a boat bound for New Orleans. We
sailed from St Martinique, then land of bright colors and the breeze off the
shore, to the dank, dark place that was the colonies. This place, with its
boards for walkways, rank with filth and the stench of the dead, sank into
me like a long forgotten past. This is where I belong, this place where the
dead skate along the skin of the living. We never leave, and neither do I.
*********
Scattered to the winds, scattered, scattered....
Benjamin...all I can say is Benjamin...
Benjamin walks the streets of New Orleans, head down, shoulders slumped and
I slide across his cheek. Benjamin.
I am dead. I am no-flesh. It is bright, this place, like the echo of
freedom. I am bound to that spot in time and that rain-sloughed night.
Everyone was dying that night but me. The city was echoing with the moans
of the fevered, but Benjamin and I soared above that pain. We moaned in
freedom. I was dying from it.
Benjamin walks the streets of New Orleans, and stops at the graveyard,
laying bread and honey on my grave, like the Voodoo Maman Marie has done.
He waits by that stone and I ride along the current of his footsteps away,
down the streets, now paved with bricks and stones.
**********
When I arrived in New Orleans, Congo Square was still running. Maman Marie
led her rituals on Sunday nights and the slaves came, drawn by the beat of
the drums. It was easy to slip out into the night, to answer the call of
the calabash on skin. The noise growled low to the outskirts of the city.
I watched the dancers in the night. Now I am the dancer in the night.
The day before I died, Benjamin watched me dance in the square, as the
masters watched their slaves frolic in what they thought was a pagan
religion. I had let my eye glide over his fine face. I twitched my hips
and slid to him, possessed by the goddess Erzulie. We could not touch the
white men, nor did we want to. Benjamin smiled, and I knew.
This man is not human.
Maman Marie had pointed to Benjamin as we walked through the streets of the
marketplace. She made noises and shook one hooked finger.
"That man is not right. That man is not natural."
I had tilted my head, watching his lean body twisting amongst the carts and
horses. He caught my eye, and nodded, eyes dancing. I knew the devil when
I saw it. Maman Marie tossed her hair and sighed.
"Such a man! He helps at the hospital, treating slaves with fever. He,
like me, cannot die."
That night, I laid a trap. I carried the chicken foot in my yellow
kerchief. I wrapped in it pennyroyal, so that I would not have his child,
and I bedded this not-a-man.
In the love, as he took me, I left myself. I was not woman, I was not a
slave, I was not "Charlotte", I was Erzulie. I was the god of all doorways,
I was Legba, I was Mary, I was free. I made myself believe that I was not
no-thing. I made myself believe that I was myself
And as he left, I slipped that kerchief into his pocket. I hid it in the
lining of his coat, to bring him back to me.
Benjamin came running as I gasped out the last few breaths I would take from
a body. I called him back.
************
Slaves are dead. We are all over this land, whispers and sighs. We are
tattoos of memories and dead skin on trial. We are corporeal-made killers,
stifling the throats of captives and killers. We are the city and the
earth.
Voodoo stays. I am Erzulie, winding around Benjamin's heart. I am free. I
am no-flesh. I have never been, and I will always be. I shall dig into
Benjamin when he comes. I shall scrape along the bottoms of the empty bowls
on the graves. I shall stain the wind with my cries...I am no-flesh, I am
Damballah...
Benjamin walks the streets of New Orleans. I follow him, and sigh into his
ear. He knows that I am here, because he is not-a-man. We are together
here. I feel a pulsing around his shoulders, in his head, as I crawl onto
his sleeping form when he has gone to bed. I see my mother again, and my
dead babies. In Benjamin's no-arms I hear the cry of Maman Marie's call to
dance:
Dahomey ah wedo,
venire ah Dahomey Damballah,
dansere a' Legba...
Benjamin shivers in his sleep. I kiss the kerchief he has carried to his
bed, lumpy with chicken foot and pennyroyal. It is me he dreams of. I
shall slide into them. I shall be a no-flesh on the soul.
***********
END NOTE: This is creepazoid. I have been reading too much Toni Morrison
and John Fowles. I apologize half-heartedly, because I don't really mean
it. In my mind, this makes total sense. But you know..... feh.
The lines I used, "Tattoos of memories and dead skin on trial". Not the
chorus, but you know.....feh again..
Good Riddance (Time of Your Life) by Greenday
Another turning point
A fork stuck in the road
Time grabs you by the wrist
Directs you where to go
So make the best of this test
And don't ask why
It's not a question
But a lesson learned in time
Chorus:
It's something unpredictable
But in the end it's right
I hope you had the time of your life
So take the photographs and still frames in your mind
Hang it on a shelf of good health and good time
Tattoos of memories
And dead skin on trial
For what it's worth
It was worth all the while
I hope you had the time of your life
It's something unpredictable
But in the end it's right
I hope you had the time of your life
*********
and the HL gurus. I do not make any money from this...laaadedah. This is a
Lyric Wheel story. The lyrics are from Greenday's "Good Riddance (Time of
Your Life)" and were messengered to me by Gillian. This song just rocks.
Once again, however the Muse of "it's the spirit of the song" has seized me
and so, once again, it is the spirit of the song. Yah..
Oh, I should explain, the voodoo Gods I have used are as follows:
Damballah-the allfather; birth and death, depicted as a snake. Legba-God of
doorways, specifically the plane between men and the divine. Erzulie-The
goddess of love and sexuality. Ghede-the god of death. Actually, they
aren't gods, but called loas, or manifestations of the "divine", in their
simplest forms. These gods are much more, but this will suffice.
"Maman Marie" refers to Marie Laveau, the great voodoo queen of New Orleans
in the early 19th century. They say she was impervious to the fever, walked
on water, and that her very spit burned flesh. She was leader to her people
as well. To this day, voodooiennes and houngans in New Orleans claim
relations with her to boost their authority.
No-Flesh and Not-A-Man
by Amand-r
----------------------------
I am dead.
That would be easy for me to realize, as I am, not here, twisting unfettered
by the body, sliding in and out of homes in the Garden District of New
Orleans. I am no-flesh. I am manna. I am Damballah, I am Legba, I am
Erzulie.
********
When I was a little girl, before Walker bought me at the block, they slapped
chains on my momma. She screamed as she fought to reach me, and her tignon
came undone, black curls tumbling down her shoulders. I remember that the
most, that hair falling dark and molten in my eye. She wore a yellow
kerchief, so that I could see her in the fields. That color winked through
the cotton, I could see it from the house.
It was hot that day, I had been chewing on cane and husking corn in the back
of the house when I heard the noise, and went running. Master and his men
hauled my momma away; she'd jumped the broom with another man without her
Master's permission. They loaded her in the wagon, and drove her away. It
was that simple.
I never saw my momma again.
********
I am no-flesh, and I am Erzulie. In New Orleans, where I died, the dead
stick to the houses like the humid dew. We writhe around the trees and
louvered doors. We never leave. I am no-flesh. I live the tumbling out of
the window into the street over and over. Benjamin sprints to my side in
this dead-dream, and I am no-flesh.
Benjamin is not human. Neither am I.
********
There were years after my momma left me before I was sold to Master Walker.
I was seventeen, already spoiled by my master, but childless. I had killed
the first two in my womb, eating kava root and pennyroyal that burned my
insides something awful.
Master Walker bought me, and loaded me on a boat bound for New Orleans. We
sailed from St Martinique, then land of bright colors and the breeze off the
shore, to the dank, dark place that was the colonies. This place, with its
boards for walkways, rank with filth and the stench of the dead, sank into
me like a long forgotten past. This is where I belong, this place where the
dead skate along the skin of the living. We never leave, and neither do I.
*********
Scattered to the winds, scattered, scattered....
Benjamin...all I can say is Benjamin...
Benjamin walks the streets of New Orleans, head down, shoulders slumped and
I slide across his cheek. Benjamin.
I am dead. I am no-flesh. It is bright, this place, like the echo of
freedom. I am bound to that spot in time and that rain-sloughed night.
Everyone was dying that night but me. The city was echoing with the moans
of the fevered, but Benjamin and I soared above that pain. We moaned in
freedom. I was dying from it.
Benjamin walks the streets of New Orleans, and stops at the graveyard,
laying bread and honey on my grave, like the Voodoo Maman Marie has done.
He waits by that stone and I ride along the current of his footsteps away,
down the streets, now paved with bricks and stones.
**********
When I arrived in New Orleans, Congo Square was still running. Maman Marie
led her rituals on Sunday nights and the slaves came, drawn by the beat of
the drums. It was easy to slip out into the night, to answer the call of
the calabash on skin. The noise growled low to the outskirts of the city.
I watched the dancers in the night. Now I am the dancer in the night.
The day before I died, Benjamin watched me dance in the square, as the
masters watched their slaves frolic in what they thought was a pagan
religion. I had let my eye glide over his fine face. I twitched my hips
and slid to him, possessed by the goddess Erzulie. We could not touch the
white men, nor did we want to. Benjamin smiled, and I knew.
This man is not human.
Maman Marie had pointed to Benjamin as we walked through the streets of the
marketplace. She made noises and shook one hooked finger.
"That man is not right. That man is not natural."
I had tilted my head, watching his lean body twisting amongst the carts and
horses. He caught my eye, and nodded, eyes dancing. I knew the devil when
I saw it. Maman Marie tossed her hair and sighed.
"Such a man! He helps at the hospital, treating slaves with fever. He,
like me, cannot die."
That night, I laid a trap. I carried the chicken foot in my yellow
kerchief. I wrapped in it pennyroyal, so that I would not have his child,
and I bedded this not-a-man.
In the love, as he took me, I left myself. I was not woman, I was not a
slave, I was not "Charlotte", I was Erzulie. I was the god of all doorways,
I was Legba, I was Mary, I was free. I made myself believe that I was not
no-thing. I made myself believe that I was myself
And as he left, I slipped that kerchief into his pocket. I hid it in the
lining of his coat, to bring him back to me.
Benjamin came running as I gasped out the last few breaths I would take from
a body. I called him back.
************
Slaves are dead. We are all over this land, whispers and sighs. We are
tattoos of memories and dead skin on trial. We are corporeal-made killers,
stifling the throats of captives and killers. We are the city and the
earth.
Voodoo stays. I am Erzulie, winding around Benjamin's heart. I am free. I
am no-flesh. I have never been, and I will always be. I shall dig into
Benjamin when he comes. I shall scrape along the bottoms of the empty bowls
on the graves. I shall stain the wind with my cries...I am no-flesh, I am
Damballah...
Benjamin walks the streets of New Orleans. I follow him, and sigh into his
ear. He knows that I am here, because he is not-a-man. We are together
here. I feel a pulsing around his shoulders, in his head, as I crawl onto
his sleeping form when he has gone to bed. I see my mother again, and my
dead babies. In Benjamin's no-arms I hear the cry of Maman Marie's call to
dance:
Dahomey ah wedo,
venire ah Dahomey Damballah,
dansere a' Legba...
Benjamin shivers in his sleep. I kiss the kerchief he has carried to his
bed, lumpy with chicken foot and pennyroyal. It is me he dreams of. I
shall slide into them. I shall be a no-flesh on the soul.
***********
END NOTE: This is creepazoid. I have been reading too much Toni Morrison
and John Fowles. I apologize half-heartedly, because I don't really mean
it. In my mind, this makes total sense. But you know..... feh.
The lines I used, "Tattoos of memories and dead skin on trial". Not the
chorus, but you know.....feh again..
Good Riddance (Time of Your Life) by Greenday
Another turning point
A fork stuck in the road
Time grabs you by the wrist
Directs you where to go
So make the best of this test
And don't ask why
It's not a question
But a lesson learned in time
Chorus:
It's something unpredictable
But in the end it's right
I hope you had the time of your life
So take the photographs and still frames in your mind
Hang it on a shelf of good health and good time
Tattoos of memories
And dead skin on trial
For what it's worth
It was worth all the while
I hope you had the time of your life
It's something unpredictable
But in the end it's right
I hope you had the time of your life
*********