By Neil Primus

DORIS took folklore very seriously. She always crossed her children three times over the casket of dead relatives. She never cried and let her tears fall on the dead. When she arrived home at night, she entered by her back. She never pointed at tombs in the cemetery.
Still, some people suspected that she does wuk obeah. Others felt that she head ain’t too right. An old lady living next door declared, “Dat damn woman wuking obeah!”
The entire village believed that Doris does see spirit. Some say it started as early as when she was five.
De same old lady claimed dat somebody wuk pon Doris. Old Mr. McLean, in his wisdom, suggested that her mother never bothered to wake her whenever a funeral procession was passing, and that ever since then, she does see plenty ‘jumbie’.

MALICIOUS CYNTHIA
A malicious villager named Cynthia told everyone that Doris can’t stop seeing ‘jumbie’ because she family so ugly that they all look like ‘jumbie’.
I don’t know about none ah dat; all I know is every now and then, Doris claiming that she having weird encounters.
One time she see ‘Wata Muma’ sitting pon de village koker. A next time she butt up ‘baccoo’ near Mr. Turner shop. Good thing she had some banana to distract it, or she woulda get a good trashing.
Then a night she run home screaming dat she just pass through ‘Moon Gazer’ legs and lived. A week later, she start boasting dat she chase down ‘Ol’ Higue’ and it land in she old neighbour yard.
She claim dat she does always talk to ‘jumbie’. But when Doris say she bump into ‘Dutch-man’ an he fall fuh she, dat was when I realise she mek everything up.
Yuh see, men don’t fall for Doris; she is the one who does hunt dem down and harass dem into submission.

THINGS START CHANGE

‘Dutchman’ was no exception. She stories continued, and everybody laughed at dem. They knew she was full of drama. Den things start to change for the worse.
Late one, night Doris was on the way home. She had gone to see her relatives in the city, and taken her eight-year-old son with her to spend the August holidays. It was dark by the time she returned to the village.
The main road to Plantain Walk had no lights, and villagers either walked with a torchlight or flambeau to help out. Some depended on their eyesight.
Doris was one. She had limited night vision, yet she always found herself walking late at night. Many nights she would either bump into people, hurt animals, or crack her toes, feet and hands on obstacles. Only the moonlight helped out occasionally.
That night, the moon was out in all its glory; it’s brilliance transformed the road from an old dirt road to a ribbon of silver. Doris hummed as she walked briskly along.
“Whimper.”
Someone was crying. She looked around and saw a small girl stooping in the bushes at the side of the road.
“Come sweetie,” Doris purred.
“Where is mummy? Who are you with?”
Silence.
“Where yuh going?”
More silence.
Doris took charge. She swooped the girl up into her warm embrace, and, taking the bottom of her blouse, she wiped the tear-streaked face.
“Don’ worry! I gon take you home, and tomorrow we gon find mummy and daddy.”
She was rewarded with a flashing smile that changed the sad little face into a happy one.
As she was about to move off, the child tapped her on the shoulder and pointed to the bush where she had emerged.
There stood a fierce-looking woman. The resemblance was striking. It had to be the child’s mother.
“Is that your mummy?”
The little head bobbed up and down. Doris put the child down gently and walked towards the parent. She would give her a piece of her mind.

DARKNESS DESCENDS
A large cloud obscured the moon, and darkness descended like a black blizzard.
“Why you have yuh daughter out so late, eh?”
Doris’s voice was full of anger and accusation.
“Why you trying to take my child?” the woman shot back at Doris.
“I was only trying to help; I thought she was alone.”
“She can take care of herself.”
“What!” Now Doris was hopping mad; she wanted to slap the woman silly for making such a statement.
Just then, Doris felt the child’s nails scratching impatiently at her big hands. Doris could not remember seeing long nails on the child, but she eased her grip without releasing her. She would have it out with the careless mother first.
The cloud passed, and light flooded the road. Darkness melted away, and an unbelievable drama unfolded before Doris’s very eyes. There in the bushes, at the side of the road, stood a huge cat. Doris was speechless.
“If you did only harm she, ah woulda kill yuh!” The voice was coming from the huge black animal.
Impatient nails were making their presence felt. Doris looked down, and her mouth fell open in shock. The pretty little hand had become a pretty little paw. The girl had transformed into a small version of her mom.
PETRIFIED!
Now Doris was petrified and at a loss for words. But she wasn’t lost to reality. And reality was saying one thing to her: Get home pronto! Two hundred-and-seventy pounds of fear took off. Boy, you should have seen her go!
A little voice over her shoulder enquired,
“Can I come home wid you, Auntie?”
“Nooooooo! Eeeeaaaaah!” The race was on.
Next day, Doris went around telling everyone about her horrible experience. She was met with sad smiles, giggles and downright skepticism. No one believed her. Do you blame them?