Free Mystery of the Dark Tower by Evelyn Coleman Page B

right in.”
    Bessie stood at the door, so frightened she couldn’t open her mouth or move.
    â€œCome in,” Miss Flo said again. “If you girls would like help, you must come inside and sit.”
    â€œI’m not allowed in anyone’s house,” Lillian said, looking scared as a rabbit in a trap.
    Bessie spun around. “You didn’t tell me that you couldn’t go in.”
    â€œI’ll wait out here,” Lillian said, backing up and taking a tiny hop to avoid stepping in the white powder.
    Miss Flo looked down at the powder. “It all right. Miss Flo will discuss this matter with Miss Bessie, alone.”
    Bessie was frozen with terror. It had not occurred to her that she might be left alone in the house with Miss Flo. Tiny beads of sweat trickled down Bessie’s forehead and under her arms. But she knew she would have to go inside if she wanted Miss Flo’s help.
    â€œYou’re not going to just stand there now, are you?” Miss Flo said. “Come in and rest your legs.”
    A vision of the one-legged man popped into Bessie’s mind. She reached down and felt her leg.
    â€œYour leg hurting you, child?” Miss Flo asked.
    Bessie shook her head. Why did she bring attention to her leg?
    Miss Flo eyed Bessie. “I take a look at your leg for you.”
    Bessie’s heart raced. Maybe involving Miss Flo was a bad idea.
    â€œCome on now,” Miss Flo said, gripping Bessie’s hand and pulling her into the room. She closed the door.
    Bessie wanted to run back out and not stop until she reached Burlington. But instead, she stood quiet and still as a possum. The room behind Miss Flo was filled with bright colors. The rug on the floor was orange, navy blue, and red. There were splashes of red all over the room. Miss Flo was barefoot.
    â€œYou a smart girl. Come, sit, me child,” Miss Flo said, pointing Bessie to a beautiful, squash-colored stuffed chair. “Tell me, what the problem? You look worried as a snake in a mongoose’s hut.”
    Bessie sat down, wringing her hands. What could she say? This woman was a stranger to her. She couldn’t tell her about Papa. Bessie felt tears streaming down her face. She wiped them off with the back of her hand. She stood up.
    â€œPlease, sit. Miss Flo help you with your burden. You hurting, but, I assure you, things not as they seem.”
    Bessie cleared her throat. She fingered her Memaw necklace. Bessie knew, even though her mind felt like a jumble of knitting yarn, that she had to get help for her family. She could not wait any longer. It had to be done. “I need to have a conjure put on a woman who is stealing my papa from my mama.”
    â€œI see,” Miss Flo said. “You coming to Miss Flo for a conjure, now would you? It ain’t an easy thing, you know. What you call a conjure is mean business, me little sister. Grown folks’ business. No matter the age, truth the same. What you send out always what you get back. But for you, I give a conjure,” Miss Flo said, smiling, as she stood up. “Wait here.”
    Bessie stopped breathing. Did she really want to get a conjure? Yes. Anything to get Papa and Mama back together.
    Miss Flo came back with a package wrapped in cloth. “Here, take this. This the thing that you need. Something to take your mind off your worries. That why you come to Miss Flo, right?”
    â€œDon’t you need to know the woman’s name?” Bessie asked.
    â€œMiss Flo know what you need and the name she needs to know. Now, are you ready?”
    Bessie nodded her head. Her hands shook as she held them out to receive the conjure. Then suddenly it occurred to Bessie that they had not talked about how much Miss Flo would charge. Bessie didn’t have much money.
    She jerked her hands back before touching the conjure. “How much does the conjure cost?”
    â€œNo problem, dear girl. Miss Flo happy to see a smile come over