“Miss, I believe you gave me the wrong change.”

Casey Bancroft stopped in her tracks and looked at the man seated at table four. His expression was not the one of patience.

“I gave you a twenty,” he said. “My meal was $12.50. So that would leave me how much in change?”

She tried not to let her irritation show. Tom Griggs, the manager, was just two tables away chatting with a regular. The last thing she needed to do was piss off a customer, especially since she’d been fifteen minutes late to work.

“7.50,” she said.

“That’s right,” he said, tapping the small vinyl folder she’d taken up front. “But you gave me $6.50 back, which is the difference of…”

“A dollar,” she said, forcing herself to ignore the fact that this man was speaking to her like she was five. “I’m so sorry. I’ll correct it at once.”

She walked back up to the register, where Lou was ringing up a ticket.

“What’s wrong, Case?” Lou turned her large eyes to Casey’s face.

Casey sighed. “I just need to get some sleep before I loose my job,” she whispered, moving to the register as Lou moved aside. She pushed a button and it opened. Casey glanced at her friend as she removed the dollar.

“First I’m late, now I give that bozo at table six the wrong change…”

“Your insomnia still acting up?”

Casey nodded. “Yeah. Four nights in a row now. It’s a wonder I can work at all.”

“What did the doctor say?”

“He doubled my Ambien, but it just made me loopy with the initial dose. Same with Lunesta. I feel like crap.”

Lou put a comforting hand over Casey’s. Against Casey’s hand, the ebony of Lou’s skin made a stark contrast.

“Talk to me on your lunch break, OK?” Lou said. “I may be able to help.”

Casey was curious as to how her friend could possibly do that, but she had no time to ponder it. She had to rush back to Table Six just in time to be informed that she wasn’t getting a tip.

“Perhaps it will help you concentrate on your math,” the man said as he left with his wife.

Lou, who was seating a table nearby pulled Casey aside after they’d left.

“Don’t be too upset,” she said. “They were in last week and left a lousy tip.”

Casey forced a smile, but it didn’t make her feel any better. Her inability to sleep at night was starting to worry her. Whenever she did fall asleep she was jarred awake by odd dreams. Even though she couldn’t remember it, she knew it was the same dream almost every time.

It worried her how many mistake she was making at work; it worried her even more how her fatigue would affect her class that night. She needed a job to pay her bills; she needed good grades to keep her scholarship. It was at times like these when she wanted nothing more than to just give up that she especially resented those younger students who had everything handed to them and yet were often so ungrateful. If only they knew what someone like her was going through.

Not that she was complaining. She was still luckier than some, like a couple of single mothers in her class who worked two jobs to scrape by. But it was still hard. When she’d decided to go back to school she’d swallowed her pride and gone to her parents for help. But her father had refused.

“If you’d stayed with Greg then you wouldn’t have to get a job and go back to school,” he’d said. “You got yourself into this mess, Casey. Get yourself out of it.”

Across the room her mother had said nothing as she dusted the knickknacks.

“You really think I should have stayed with Greg?” she asked. “You know how unhappy I was, Father…”

“So what?” he’d said, tossing his paper down on the table beside the recliner. “You think I’ve been happy with your mother all these years? Hell no. But ‘I do,’ is ‘I do,’ and Greg may not have been something out of a romance novel but he was a damn good provider and if you’d just waited he’d have been making enough money for you to both…”

“Forget it.” Casey stood. “Just stop, dad. I’m sorry I asked.”

Casey had stormed out then, past her dusting mother who’d just continued to stare blankly as she dusted the house of a man who hadn’t seen her as anything other than a maid and cook since her only daughter could remember. Is that why Jill Pence had encouraged Casey to marry so young, because she felt it her daughter’s perverse duty to have dinner on the table and look the other way when her husband came home late with lipstick on his underclothes?

She remembered them arguing when she was little. “You’ve got everything you want. A car. Clothes. A shopping allowance. I’m a damn good provider.”

It had been eerie how Casey’s “damn good provider” had turned out to be like her own father. It wasn’t surprising since they worked in the same company. Greg was a modern version of Will Pence. Within six months of their marriage he was finding excuses to stay at the office. Often Casey didn’t notice since she was taking art classes. But when she took a break from them she realized that her husband was less than pleased to have her planning dinners for two. After eating alone more nights than she should have, Casey filed for divorce. Maybe he was cheating, maybe he wasn’t. But she knew one thing for certain; Greg Bancroft had more interesting things to do than spend time with her.

Her decision astounded her parents.

“We don’t spend any time together so there’s no use being married,” she’d told them, but that had not been sufficient reason for her father, who’d told her not to come to him for help. Casey had not believed he’d really refuse her should she need him. After all, she was his daughter. But she quickly realized he’d spoken the truth.

She’d enrolled in school nonetheless and asked for more hours at the restaurant where she worked part-time as waitress and hostess. Casey didn’t ask Greg to leave the apartment; she’d been the one to ask for a divorce so she thought she should be the one to go. He didn’t argue. In fact, when she told him she wanted out of the marriage he didn’t say much at all.

“If that’s what you want….”

They had accumulated little in their short marriage and each left with essentially what they started with, which wasn’t much. Casey’s apartment on the other side of town was small and modest. She didn’t want to struggle financially while she finished art school. But she soon found that it was a struggle when a few minor disasters put her behind the eight ball. She had to have her wisdom teeth removed. Two weeks later, the transmission went out in her car. After that, her laptop died. She’d quickly exhausted her savings and the stress of living hand to mouth was what started the insomnia, which had only gotten worse.

At the end of her shift she and Lou stood in the bathroom washing their hands. Casey stared at her reflection. The circles under her eyes looked as if they’d been painted on.

“You’re looking rough, girl,” Lou said, her Creole accent as pretty as her face. “Let me help you.”

“I don’t see how,” Casey said. “But at this point I’m open to anything. What did you have in mind?”

“A trip to see Mama June.”

Casey looked at her friend and smiled. “You mean the voodoo lady?”

“Mama June is a priestess so don’t be disrespectful,” Lou said, but she was smiling even as she admonished Casey. “She can help you.”

“How do you know?”

“Because Mama June can help anybody. Now are you going to go, or are you going to stay up all night wishing you had?”

“I’m supposed to go to class,” Casey replied.

“You won’t be able to concentrate,” Lou argued. “Look at yourself. You can barely form a sentence.”

Casey glanced back into the mirror. Lou was right. She looked haggard. No, she looked beyond haggard.

Casey sighed. “O.K. I’ll ditch class and go. But it’s only because I’m desperate.”

They changed in the restroom. Casey put on a tank top, her favorite pair of faded jean shorts and flip-flops. But out in the New Orleans heat it still felt like too much clothing. Lou, as always, looked completely comfortable.

Even though it was past dark now, the evening was still humid. Cicaidas hummed from trees bogged down with strands of Spanish moss, making them look like wraiths with their spindly arms stretched over the wrought iron fences of the cemetery the two friends passed.

“Now this Mama June person isn’t going to cut me or make me dig up someone’s skull or something like that, is she?” Casey cast a nervous glance first at her friend and then at the graveyard. She loved the energy of New Orleans, but the hidden parts of it - the legends and the myths - scared her. It looked haunted, even in the daytime.

“Mama June won’t do anything that will hurt you,” Lou said, her tone piqued now. “She won’t pump you full of useless chemicals like those doctors of yours, and you trusted them enough.”

“I’m sorry,” Casey said, draping an arm around Lou’s shoulder. “I didn’t mean to offend. This is just new to me.”

She paused, thinking.

“Do I have to believe in this a hundred percent for it to work?”

They were turning the corner of the cemetery now and heading to a more tumbledown section of town. The well-maintained sidewalks were broken in places, the pieces pushed up by the roots of the cemetery trees. The women carefully navigated the uneven terrain by the dim yellow glow of the overhead lights.

“You don’t have to believe,” Lou said. “Mama June’s belief is strong enough for both of you. All you have to do is give consent.”

“Consent?”

“Mama June doesn’t like to work her magic without permission.” She laughed then. “Unless she’s hexing someone. Then she doesn’t care.”

Casey looked over, wondering if her friend was kidding and got the uneasy feeling she was not.

They were passing a row of clapboard houses now. Young men and women loitered on the front steps, their dark skin shiny with the sheen of sweat. It was too hot to be indoors and none of these houses seemed to have air condition from the looks of it. Laughter erupted from somewhere, a woman’s - soft and seductive. Casey’s eyes followed the sound to where a young man and woman stood locked together in an embrace. The man pulled the woman roughly to him and she grinned seductively before sliding a long, honey-colored thigh up his leg. Casey blushed and looked away.

“Here.” Lou was pointing to a small blue house that looked tidier than the others, but different, too. Above a box of wilting impatiens, wind chimes made of bones hung from a piece of fishing line. Youngsters laughing in the street seem to fall respectfully quiet as they passed the house of Mama June.

Casey followed Lou up to the porch.

“Don’t be nervous,” Lou said as she knocked on the door. “She’s just a very nice old lady.”

For a moment they heard nothing and then the door opened. The woman who stood there was striking, and if she was old then she’d had some kind of amazing work done to her face. Her cheekbones were high and her skin firm. Her hair was covered by a high wrap, its turquoise print matching the flowing dress she wore.

When Mama smiled at Lou, the corners of her eyes crinkled ever so slightly, but it only served to make her look more beautiful.

“Lou, baby!” Mama June said as she threw open her arms to embrace the girl. Casey stood watching as they two exchanged pleasantries. Then the older woman looked past Lou and focused on Casey. Her stare was intense, or was that just the way she had of looking at people. Casey couldn’t tell.

“You brought a friend.” Mama June observed the obvious.

“Yes,” Lou said. “From work. Her name is Casey and she can’t sleep. It’s bad, Mama June. The doctors can’t help her and I was hoping…”

“…that I could.”

“I don’t want to intrude,” Casey said, not knowing what else to say.

“Nonsense,” Mama June said, extending her hand. “If Lou says you need help then I will help.”

She reached down and took Casey’s hand.

“Three days,” she said.

Casey’s eyes widened. “Excuse me?”

“Since you slept.”

“How did you…”

“You’re stressed,” Mama June continued, her grip tightening on Casey’s hand. Her voice sounded far away now, as if she were reading something.

“You didn’t think it would be this hard and you’re scared. You would sleep better if you didn’t feel so alone and unguided.”

“Unguided?” Casey asked. “I don’t think I need to be guided.”

Mama June dropped her hand. “It’s what I read in you.” It was a statement, delivered with certainty.

“You have no man?” Mama June inquired.

“Casey just went through a divorce,” Lou offered. “She’s not dating.”

“Hmmm.” The older woman said.

“I don’t want one,” Casey offered.

“Hmmm,” Mama June said again and shot Casey a somewhat bemused, knowing look.

“Come with me,” she said and turned to walk towards the back of the house. Casey followed obediently, glancing at the odd pictures and decor scattered throughout the house, which was lit only by candlelight. A large statue of the Virgin Mary stood in a corner, surrounded by fake flowers. On a shelf, a crude-looking doll with a realistic papier-mâché skull seemed to almost lear at her. They turned into a room where beads hung in the doorway. The walls were hung with heavy veils and the smell of some sort of spicy incense hung heavy in the room. In the corner a crow preened itself on a stand and peered at Casey.

Mama June gestured to a round table and instructed Casey to sit down. Casey did as she was told and watched as the older woman went to a tall, ornately carved cabinet and opened the double doors.

Casey couldn’t help but gasp. It looked like something out of a museum display she’d seen featuring cabinets of curiosities that sometimes held macabre or morbid contents. The focal point of Mama June’s cabinet was a very real human skull, jars filled with preserved snakes and other animals, bones, bottles of what looked like dried plants and bags, their tops drawn tight with string. Mama June looked through those bags now and then said Ah-ha quietly as she withdrew one.

She turned to Casey.

“You need to sleep peacefully again,” she said. “This will do that for you..”

Mama June sat down and opened the tiny bag and poured something that looked like powder into her palm

“What’s in it?” Casey asked, trying not to sound too worried.

“A priestess never gives away her secrets,” came the reply. “Do you want my help? Do you want to sleep peacefully again?”

“Y-yes,” Casey said. The idea of another sleepless night or another day spent in foggy fatigue scared her far more than whatever lay in Mama June’s palm.

“Yes,” Casey said resolutely, her blue eyes meeting Mama June’s brown ones. “What do I have to do? Mix it up and…”

Casey never got to finish the sentence. The next thing she knew she was slumped over the table, coughing uncontrollably. She’d not even had time to react when Mama June blew the fine powder in her face.

By the time she caught her breath, Casey realized her eyes were streaming tears and her nose was burning horribly. She was about to demand that the voodoo priestess tell her what was in the powder so she could convey that information to whoever was staffing the local ER when something strange happened. The symptoms disappeared and, strangely, so did the fatigue.

“How do you feel?” Mama June asked.

Casey opened her mouth, searching for the right word.

“Awake,” she said. “Totally awake. Not tired or anything. What was in that powder?”

“A good practitioner never gives away her secrets.” Mama June stood and walked over, taking Casey’s hand in hers. Casey stood up.

“Tonight you will sleep,” Mama June said. “Do not be afraid of what you find there. It is what you need.”

Now Casey was confused. “What I find? Find where?”

“It is late.” Mama June ignored the question and headed to the door. Casey picked up her purse where it lay on the floor beside the chair and rushed out after her. She wanted some clarification on the voodoo priestess’ statements but instead she ran into Lou, who demanded to know what she thought of the experience.”

“It was…weird. I feel incredible,” Casey said. “Mama June said I’d sleep tonight but honestly I don’t think I’m ready to go to bed yet.”

“You look better,” Lou said. “I mean, you look….recharged. Even the circles under your eyes are gone.”

“I need to ask Mama June something,” Casey said. She looked around. “Where is she?”

“She left,” Lou said. “She told me to just let ourselves out.”

“Oh…” Casey shrugged. “I guess I can ask her later.”

They walked back out into the night. Casey wasn’t ready to go home so they stopped at a small blues club to enjoy the music and have a drink. Time slipped away and by the time they left the bar it was past one in the morning. Men loitered in the alleys, staring. It wasn’t the best part of town.

“Hey beautiful!” A handsome man with dreadlocks and a thick accent walked to them, trailed by his friends. “What are a couple of fine looking ladies doing out alone?”

As he spoke, his friends began to form a circle around the women. Casey and Lou looked nervously at one another.

“We’re on our way home,” Lou said. “And we’re in a hurry. Come on, Case.” She took Casey’s arm and started to move forward, but the men blocked their path.

“You shouldn’t be in a hurry,” the dreadlocked man said. “It is still early. There’s plenty of fun left to be had. My friends and I were going to back to my place for a smoke. Join us?”

He was cordial, overly cordial. But his eyes were the eyes of a predator.

“I don’t think so,” said Casey. But the wall of men had tightened.

“We really think you should….”

“Lucius!”

They all turned to see a man come towards them from out of the shadows. He was tall, with black hair that fell to just below his shoulders. His skin was olive colored and in the shadows it was hard to make out his ethnicity. Was he Native American? Indian? Casey only knew one thing; she’d never seen a man so beautiful. His  shoulders were broad, his chest well-muscled under his tight t-shirt.

The dread-locked man stepped aside. 

“Gabriel,” he said. “I didn’t expect to see you tonight.”

“Apparently not.” The tall man moved past the other men, who offered no resistance and came to stand between the woman and Lucius.

“I think they said they want to go home,” he said.

Lucius put his hands up. “No worries,” he said. “I was just trying the gentle art of persuasion.”

“That’s not I’m concerned about,” Gabriel replied. “It’s the next step if that hadn’t worked. You know what I will and won’t tolerate.”

The dread-locked man put his hands up.

“Very well,” he said. “Come on boys, let’s go.”

The men moved away with Lucius in the lead.

“You shouldn’t be out here this late.” Gabriel was speaking now and Casey looked up, surprised to see that he seemed to be addressing her in particular.

“Excuse me?” she said. “We’re quite capable of handling…”

“You’re not,” he said. “You should be home. Asleep.”

Casey felt taken aback by his words. Who was this man telling her where she should be and what she was doing.

“Come on,” Lou said, taking her arm. “We need to go..”

She pulled Casey along, but Casey couldn’t help but look back. The man who’d identified himself only as Gabriel just stood there, staring at her.

“That was weird,” Casey said.

“Yeah,” Lou replied, her voice tight. “Come on. Walk faster.”

“Do you know that guy?” Casey asked her friend.

“No,” Lou said. “Not personally. But I think I’ve seen him. Walk faster.”

“Lou, what are you afraid of?” Casey was alarmed to see that Lou looked anxious.

“Nothing,” she said. “But he’s right. Let’s just walk!”

Casey followed her friend. Lou said nothing as they walked back to where they’d left their car. Lou said very little on the drive back to Casey’s apartment. Casey just assumed she was tired and a little embarrassed that they’d put themselves in danger.

They said their goodnights and then Casey went inside. As soon as she closed the door she found herself yawning and discovered that she was incredibly exhausted. It was all she could do to stay awake through her shower. The bed had never looked even more inviting, the sheets had never felt softer.

She was out in minutes, or what seemed like minutes. Then she heard a noise. Casey sat bold upright in bed and blinked. And then, in the glow of the lamplight coming through her window she saw him. Gabriel was standing at the foot of her bed.