The Skeleton Key

Once upon a time there were a husband and wife named Justify and Cecile. They lived in a plantation home in New Iberia, Louisiana about an hour outside of New Orleans. They were the devoted slaves to the homeowners, who had two young children - a son and a daughter.

Unknown to their master and mistress, Justify and Cecile were practitioners of hoodoo - a form of black magic that makes voodoo look like hopscotch. Justify was a very powerful conjurer, and together with Cecile they created a spell that would make them immortal. The catch was, someone had to be sacrificed for the spell to work.

One day, the owners of the plantation had a big party. There was plenty of booze and things got a little carried away. As the guests were leaving they wanted to say goodbye to the children. When they went to see them, they couldn't be found. The guests searched the house high and low, and then finally found the children in the attic with Justify and Cecile. They were in the middle of a sacrificial ceremony with Justify deeply entranced and convulsing, and the children in the middle of a chalk circle surrounded by lit candles. The parents went ballistic. They trusted their slaves and were enraged that they would harass their children in this way. Justify and Cecile claimed they were just teaching the children how to protect themselves from black magic., but the parents and party guests weren't convinced. They formed a lynch mob and strung Justify and Cecile in the Spanish moss-draped oak tree in the front yard where they hung by the necks until they died.

But what nobody knew was that in order for the black magic spell of mortality to work, Justify and Cecile's souls would have to enter new bodies, or in other words, they would have to 'switch bodies' with those they were offering up for sacrifice. Just seconds before the mob of angry party guests seized the slave couple in the attic, they had already made the switch, and the unlucky hanging victims were actually the children in Justify and Cecile's bodies.

Fast forward fifty years. Justify and Cecile, known to everyone as the children of the plantation owners, have aged and must find new bodies to inhabit so they can continue to be immortal. They put the house up for sale, and before long the Devereaus came along. They purchased the house and were soon ensnared in the same hoodoo ritual. Justify and Cecile were now in fresh bodies, and the old couple's bodies housed the Devereaus souls, and were soon disposed of. When the Devereaus became old and the desire to change bodies once again presented itself, they were in need of new, young forms to take over.

They hired a young estate lawyer to help them get their affairs in order. Then Justify and Cecilia hatched a plan that would ensure they were financially taken care of in their new forms. The Devereaus had a will that left the entire estate to one if the other died. Justify took hold of the young lawyer's body, and then he in his new form and Cecilia invoked a curse on Mr. Devereau to make him ill and appear as if he had had a stroke, and kept him ill by feeding him malicious potions under the guise they were medicine to help him. The new home care worker, Caroline, didn't know any better at first, but soon realized something was fishy when Mr. Devereau surprised her by grabbing her wrist tightly and staring her down with a frightened glare. He was supposed to be in a catatonic state and unaware of his surroundings.

Confused yet? Well you'll just have to see the movie to see how it all ends. And now that I've managed to unravel the tangled web of a plot line, I'm going to bed!

The medium is the message

Sometimes I seriously wonder what the Universe is trying to communicate to me. I have had a couple of experiences recently that have made me sit up and take notice, and I'm still wrestling with the meaning behind them...

Yesterday I was out canvassing, and as I drove by a customer location I had visited previously, a health club, I noticed the owner pulling into the parking lot. I had missed him earlier in the week when I stopped by, and made a mental note that he was now at work so I could swing by after running the errand I was on my way to do.

My thoughts then took me back to the time I was a member at this particular health club, and how I had canceled my membership because there was a creepy old man who would come to hang out at the gym just to ogle the women in their leotards. It really bothered me how he would sit at the pec dec, do two or three reps, and then just stop and look around him, mentally undressing us all with his eyes. He would boldly continue to stare at you even after you noticed him doing so. It was very unnerving. One day as I passed him on the stairs on the way up to the cardio area I caught him staring me down. I stared right back at him and snapped "Can I help you???" I had told the girl at the front desk about him and lodged an official complaint, and then quit the club shortly thereafter.

I returned to the club and met with the owner, and we made plans to sit down and have a discussion about his staffing needs. After I left the gym I went back on my route, which at the time was southeast Oshawa. As I sat in traffic on King St. waiting for a light to change on the way to my next call, I glanced over at the car sitting next to me. I'll be damned if it wasn't that creepy old man from the gym!!! He was looking all neat and tidy and was undoubtedly on his way to work, and was for once not staring at me, but instead focused on the traffic in front of him.

It's not like I live in a small town where you run into everyone all the time. What could be the meaning behind this strange encounter?

Then this evening I was speaking to my father in New Jersey, who is trying to coordinate a trip for the boys and I to come and see him. He proposed some dates, and I told him I would have to check the calendar at work to see if anyone had already booked those days off, as we can't have more than one person away from the office at a time. He asked me if I would please get back to him asap, as the fares will be going up tomorrow and he'd like to book them when they're low. I told him I would be arriving very early in the office tomorrow and would call him first thing to advise, which would be around 8:00am. He told me that he is staying up very late these days writing, and requested that I not call him before 11:00am. I assured him I would not.

As I hung up the phone, I glanced at the display screen on my handset, which automatically records the time of each call in minutes and seconds. The time it recorded for this call we just had was 11 minutes and 11 seconds! This message came through loud and clear: I have to remember to delay my morning call as requested!

So another weekend has come and gone. Now I'm just chilling out and getting ready for the busy week ahead.

I have been told I am to stay on until the end of April, and beyond that...who knows? I have to stop expecting so much from people and life in general. I actually started feeling disappointed when the manager told me that the person I'm replacing would eventually be reclaiming the job instead of being given a job in another department. Why would I do that to myself? I know I am kicking ass and taking names at this job, and cleaning up a lot of her mess, but why would I ever convince myself that they would recognize I am better at the role than she is and decide to give the job to me? I must be absolutely insane. To expect a large global company such as this to have loyalty to me like I have to them is an exercise in exasperation.

I am trying a new recipe today that I'm excited about. It's salmon grilled with fresh rosemary and garlic, and I can't wait to taste it!

These Dreams, Vol. 2

This one is taken from a journal entry dated 21 September 2005, just a couple of weeks after my Dad passed away...

I was in the mall at lunch (?) shopping. I wanted to find a pair of pants, so I was on my way to the store that I thought would have them when I saw (my cousin) Brian and his wife. He dyed his hair blond. It was odd they were still in town (after the funeral). I told myself I'd look for them on my way back (from getting my pants). Didn't find the pants because I never made it to the store. Some guy was trying to get me to listen to his spiel about changing your name after getting married. I then went to find Brian again, but couldn't. I ended up at the food court. I was looking at my blog somehow on a microfiche-type screen and talking to my mother on the phone (?). I...kept seeing people resembling Dad around me. They were dressed in white and they would come one at a time. They would smile at me - and I took it to be a sign from Dad. Then I was driving with Dad (?) and had to stop to empty a spray bottle on Eric's (my biological father) lawn. He wasn't happy, so I wrote a note on his poodle, but removed it (before he could see it)....

What I notice in many of the dreams I have had is that I'm always on a mission to do something, but for some unknown reason it never gets done. I have heard from experts that it is the seemingly insignificant parts of the dream that should get the most attention, as they often hold the strongest message.

These Dreams, Vol. 1

Taken from my journal dated 6 June 2004, the year before my kids went to live with their father:

I want to remember this dream I just had: I was with Scott (my ex-husband), but as Josh (my eldest son). Staying over at his house one night (it was all at nighttime - very dark and hard to see), I had a nightmare. I was trying to wake myself up from it, and I couldn't. I had opened my eyes in the dream, and all I could see was red flashing lights that reminded me of scary eyes, and dark, macabre shadows. My struggle to wake up was in vain, so I began kicking and thrashing about in the dream and screaming "Dad! Dad!" until my hoarse, boy-like voice was swallowed up in the dream state where you try to scream, but can't. Soon I could vaguely make out Scott's figure and presence appearing intertwined with the liquid blackness of my nightmare. He knew that I wasn't really Josh, yet he was there by my side, holding my hand, with the doubt and reserve that he has in any instance that involves me, yet despite his feelings about me he still came. He stayed with me as I awoke, and assisted me as I struggled to keep the demons away. I asked him to please not leave because I was still seeing scary images even though I was now out of bed. I remember grabbing at him imploring him to stay because I was still struggling with the nightmare. I seem to remember him telling me it was OK. We both knew I wasn't really Josh (sleeping on the bottom bunk), but the fact that he was there for me in spite of it made a significant impression, which led to me writing them down so I wouldn't forget it.