What He's Been Missing

“That’s right up the street. You better get on a plane. Bring that thang to him. Young girls like us don’t have a lot of time to debate over such minor details as air mileage.”

“I know, but I’m trying to take it slower,” I said. “Don’t want to crowd him. He’s kind of one of those ‘reformed player’ types.”

“Look, Ms. Rachel Winslow—never underestimate a man’s potential to adapt. I never would’ve thought Ayat would really have married me—a Muslim man with a former adult actress? Crazy! But men know what they like. And when they find it, they pursue it,” Bisa said.

“I guess I’ll have to wait on him to get on a plane to Atlanta, then!”

“I know that’s right!” Bisa laughed and we slapped hands dramatically. “So, how’d you meet this man who has you glowing?”

“It’s the funniest thing—but you have to promise not to laugh at me—”

“I’ll probably laugh, but tell me anyway,” Bisa joked.

“We’ve known each other for years. Went to college together. I hadn’t seen him since. But a few weeks ago, a friend of ours got married, and Xavier was there and I was there, and I went to see this roots woman—”

“A roots woman?” Bisa coiled up.

“Tante Heru. We were in New Orleans. It’s a long story,” I explained struggling to sound nonchalant. “Anyway, I was feeling really down and I asked Tante Heru to send me the man of my dreams.” As I repeated the rest of the story about Tante Heru in the Quarter, it was like I was seeing it all again. I remembered parts I hadn’t been able to recall. Being lifted from the floor of the bar. Hands all around me. Tante Heru chanting over my forehead. Her laugh. Her gray beard. Her promise about sunrise. Xavier at the door of my hotel room the next morning. “I asked her . . . I asked Tante Heru for—” I stopped. I was feeling dizzy. Like I was back in Tante Heru’s shack. I could smell her all around the room.

“For what? What did you ask her for?” Bisa had big fish eyes.

“Lovvveee,” I said. “A man who loves music, a man who loves art. Who respects the spirit world and thinks with his heart.”

“Oh girl, I love that song! India.Arie! And that’s my favorite part,” Bisa said and then she started singing, “A man who loves music, a man who loves art—”

And then I joined in, “Respects the spirit world and thinks with his heart.” It sounded like an incantation. The lights in the conference room began to flicker. I looked over at Bisa to be sure I wasn’t still off in my thoughts and imagining what I was seeing.

The exposed insides of Bisa’s mouth confirmed the paranormal potential of the event.

“It’s nothing!” Bisa said.

“Yeah. Just a coincidence! These lights flicker in here all the time.” (Lie!)

“Really?”

“No . . . but let’s pretend they do. I’m sure it’s nothing. That’s the thing about those crackpot roots women: they get you going and then you’re convinced their little spells are working, but it’s just your imagination. Right?”

“You seem pretty convinced about this guy,” Bisa said. “And he seems pretty convinced about you. Maybe it is working.”

“Maybe I just want it to work. And what’s happened since is just my imagination.”

“Could be.”

“Well, there’s one test. When I was leaving, Tante Heru said she’d grant me two more of loves wishes whenever I wanted them. The second wish is that I can wish that my true love be by my side whenever I want him.”

“Well, wish Xavier here! Wish him by your side.”

“But I don’t even know if it’s him—if Xavier is my true love,” I pointed out. “And I don’t even know if it’s working.” I laughed. “And I don’t even know why we’re talking about this!”

“The only way to know is to try. Put it to the test. Wish.”

“Wish what?”

“Whatever you want!” Bisa threw up her hands. “Whatever you want right now. Look, if this guy is your true love and you wish for your true love to appear, then he’ll show up. Then you’ll know.”

“That’s ridiculous. You sound like you’re in some teen movie.”

“We could stand to be teenagers again sometimes,” Bisa said. “And I think it’s ridiculous not to make the wish.”