CHAPTER 36 - THE BOY
When Boy was born, the Ladds couldn’t decide on a name for their first child. Time came to check out of the hospital and the proud parents still hadn’t come to a decision. The records clerk who’d come to fill in the birth certificate smiled. "It’s all right," she said. "The given name can be filed at a later date." Then she wrote BOY in the blank, indicating a male child had been born.
After two years of contemplation, Mr. Ladd gave up, assigning the naming task to his wife. It took two more years before she came to a decision. She would call the child Guy. It took Mrs. Ladd another year before she got around to updating the birth certificate, and, by then, BOY had stuck. He grew up only using his legal name for formal occasions.
"It was a nightmare to me as a kid," Boy confided to anyone who’d listen. "People were always making fun of my name. ‘The Ladds’ laddy is a boy named Guy.’ I fought my way through every school grade until I grew taller than the other kids. Believe me, no one messes with you when you’re six foot, three, and built like a rock. Just feel those muscles, ladies."
Young women crowded around him, hanging on every word, reaching eagerly to touch his strong arms. Boy loved the attention.
But his Wiccan friends at Las Naranjas didn’t want to phone him because he was just a pretty face. They knew him to be intelligent, sensitive to the needs of others, and always ready to lend a hand in an emergency. Boy had been the high priest and mentor of their coven for the past year and they knew he only practiced bright magic.
"Do what ye will as long as it hurts no one," he’d say and had never broke this trust. Boy had never asked the women of his circle to worship sky clad, or to engage in sex magic, and he'd never attempted to initiate females to Wicca because he was attracted to them. He often warned his followers against revealing themselves to Cowans, those who do not practice the craft.
"Contrary to the misinformation other religions spread about us, Wicca, the way of the wise, is a secret society," he would say. "Secret society means just that. Christian sects seek new members. True Wiccans do not. In times past, secrecy between members was a life and death matter and that’s why each circle was confined to no more than 13 members. One does not go about, therefore, recruiting, converting, and initiating perfect strangers. Our wisdom, our knowledge, is jealously guarded. And we must always defend against those who would adapt our magic for evil purpose."
That evening, it was Raven who placed the call, explaining how they’d nervously waited for the lower phone rate. She blurted out the story and Boy’s voice exploded into her ear.
"Your lives are in danger and you waited for the rates to change before calling me! Who knows what this lunatic might have done while you sat around all day."
Boy said he’d be out on the next flight. He’d phone back to let them know his arrival time. He wanted to rent a van, but Raven insisted they already had a rental car. As soon as they knew when, the hotel taxi would meet him.
"Make a hotel reservation for me," he commanded, "and don’t make it so easy for that maniac to find you. Get out of town. Go sightseeing until I get there."
By the time Boy phoned back, he’d taken time to research Santeria, Voodoo, and zombies in his private library and on the Internet. He was just going offline when his Dominican friend, Manny, dropped by to visit. "Perfect timing," Boy insisted, as Manny proved to be very knowledgeable about Santeria.
Boy had always considered Manny sympathetic to his Wiccan brand of earth magic and was now delighted to learn that Manny was a practicing Santero. When Boy first spoke of the problem to Manny, his visitor averted his eyes and made no response. As more of Ramon’s escapades were recounted, Manny was outraged.
"We do not speak to outsiders of Santeria, but this is a special case. Someone must stop this man. Santeria is a colorful, happy religion. Not at all what this Ramon has done. You must not judge us by this monster," Manny insisted. "Santeria is a branch of African Yoruba, which holds Nature to be divine.
"When Africans were taken as slaves," he explained, "their ways spread from Africa to Cuba, to Latin American countries, the Caribbean, and, most recently, to the United States. True believers come from all walks of life. Wherever there is a Latino community, we are there.
"As a secret religion," he continued, "it once meant severe punishment or death for those revealed as practitioners, so slaves disguised their religion by blending it with Catholicism. When our orishas developed counterparts among Christian saints, the original Voodoo religion became Santeria. The worship of the saints. While the language of the Catholic Church was traditionally Latin for so many centuries, the language of Santeria is the traditional Yoruba."
Manny insisted, "Santeria is taught orally to initiates, although some practitioners have been known to commit their secrets to paper. Once written, such a book would become so powerful, it could destroy its user. And, when not in use, it must be kept buried."
Both men agreed Ramon was a rogue practitioner and Manny decided to accompany Boy to Cristo in the hopes of persuading other Santeros to aid them. Boy gathered up his research. He meant to finish reading it on the plane.