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A thing I wrote years ago, recently updated. Not my best but it’s something. A look into why Cherry gets the label bruja sometimes. Albert, mentioned briefly, belongs to @dharmagun.
The shitty black pickup truck pulled into the tiny gas station, kicking up dust from the road in its wake. It sidled up to the lone pump, and the engine died. The mechanics in the open garage didn't look up from their work.
Door opened and slammed shut. Tall hombre got out. No, he wasn't a man, not quite, not entirely. He was that lobo. Couldn't miss that posture, that dangerous face for a mile. The station owner, sitting outside in a plastic lawn chair, exhaled a sweet-smelling smoke from his hand-rolled and grunted in acknowledgment.
Syl ignored him as he patted down the pockets of his low-slung jeans. His shirt was unbuttoned and open, pale skin already slick with sweat so early in the morning. Too fucking hot in Mexico. Only downside though, considering they didn't live in a bigger city, so he could be bothered to put up with it.
"Nice scars, lobo," the shop owner called from his seat. He referred the numerous scars decorating his belly, chest, and forearms, plus two on his face. Syl turned his mismatched eyes on the guy and snorted in response.
"You should see the other guy," he called back without humor. He found the wad of bills finally and counted out a couple of the notes, strolling over to the guy to pay up front. He wasn't expecting change, and the shop guy didn't plan on giving him any.
The bruja was with him, in the cab of the truck. No one knew what she was exactly. She touted herself as a curandera and a midwife, but that wasn’t all she was. What they knew for sure though was what she could do, and they knew not to touch her. Most of them did anyway. The villagers still got the occasional idiot who tried to touch her, hit on her. If it wasn't the lobo who got the poor bastard first, she could turn whatever bad shit you had in your head on you the second your skin touched hers. The shop owner figured he'd prefer the wolf.
She leaned in and turned the radio on, fiddling with it until she got a channel that came in clear enough out there. Then she settled back, staying in the shadow of the cab. Syl growled softly in his throat at the shop guy, who stared at her a little longer than he would have liked. The guy started in his chair a little and averted his eyes. Maybe he wouldn't prefer the wolf after all.
Syl went back to ignoring him and stalked back over to the truck, snapping the gas cap off with a sharp twist of his wrist. Cherry was singing along with something on the radio. He didn't know what it was; his Spanish wasn't that good. He had a vast vocabulary stash of curse words, of course, but not anything really useful. He unhooked the pump and flipped the catch up, then shoved the nozzle into the gas tank and pressed the trigger.
He heard the passenger door open and shut and looked up. Cherry was coming around the front of the the truck toward him.
"Cherry, get back in the truck, luv," he drawled at her as she came up beside him. The short little thing started going through his pockets. "Oi!"
"I'm thirsty," she said in explanation.
He swiveled his hip away from her hands. Her arms were bare; he couldn't pull her away properly. She gave up her search and looked up at him with those eyes of hers. They were the color of dark, venous blood, and when she turned them on you, it felt like she could see straight through you. Like she didn't need her touch to read everything that was going on in your head. It always made a shiver go through him, but he couldn't decide if it was a bad feeling or not.
Syl stuck his hand in his back pocket and fished out a handful of pesos. "Go crazy."
"Gracias, mi hermoso." She beamed a smile at him and skirted around him to trot off to the little store attached to the garage. She stopped to drop the coins in the shop guy's waiting hand then went inside.
The pump clicked and stopped filling. Syl pulled it out and put it back on its hook, then screwed the gas cap back on.
She was inspecting the small cooler by the cash register when one of the mechanics came in from a side door. He strutted up behind Cherry, who didn't even look over her shoulder, until the guy's greasy hand came down on the glass inches from hers.
"Ay, bonita. ¿Cómo te llamas?" His voice was gravelly - too many cigarillos, she figured, for too many years. His breath by her cheek reeked of tequila. She never liked the stuff, didn't like what it did to Syl.
"Miguel!" the shop guy called to him in warning, but didn't make a move to get up. Let him learn his own lesson.
She leaned back into the guy, skin crawling a little at the sweat on his undershirt. But she can feel skin and that was what she was after. He ducked his head to press his mouth on her neck. A shiver rippled through her, discomfort and a certain level of revulsion, and she made a soft sound in her throat.
"Lupe. She is sick, mi amigo."
The mechanic froze. Then he pulled away fast like she was on fire. "¿Que?"
Cherry turned around to face him, a sad look on her face. "Lupe. You should be with her. Not hitting on me. The doctors say she does not have long?"
He looked at her like she'd just spoken in tongues. "What the fuck do you think you're-"
"Cancer of the blood is terrible. You really should be home with her."
That hand swung at her face faster than she saw it coming. She threw her hands up far too late to block the blow. But it didn't connect, and she heard a deep growling behind him.
"Cherry, get yer arse back in that truck right now."
Syl. Cherry wasn't going to wait for him to tell her twice. She bolted from the store, skirt billowing behind her. He heard the pickup door slam shut. Syl let go of the man's arm and bared his sharp teeth at him, sharper than any human's ought to be. The mechanic crossed himself and backed away. "Go near her again and I will snap your spine in ten places. ¿Comprende, amigo?"
The mechanic jerked his head in a nervous nod and all but ran back into the garage. He could hear laughter from his friends at his misfortune before the door shut. Syl groaned and rubbed the bridge of his nose between his fingers. He was getting too old for this shit.
Cherry was quietly sitting in the cab, staring into her lap, when he came back out to the truck. Something cold and wet touched the back of her neck, and her head snapped up with a yelp. Syl gave a gravelly chuckle and pulled the water bottle away, then handed it to her properly. "You forgot that."
She looked down at it in a bewildered way. "I'm sorry, Syl. I should not have done that."
"Che." He snapped the ignition key forward and the engine turned over. The little yellow gas light didn't come on this time. "If anyone's sorry, it's me. Shoulda watched fer him."
Cherry shook her head. "I had no right to use his wife's illness against him like that."
"Well." He dug a cigarette out of the little box sitting on the seat between them and slipped it between his lips. "If you ask me, he had it coming. Chasing your tail with his wife sick like that." There was a chink of his lighter, then the sweet smell of his tobacco.
"She has leukemia."
"Fuck." Syl took a deep drag and exhaled, turning his head toward the window.
The silence kept in the cab as they head back to their house about five miles from town. The only sounds over the rumble of the engine were Syl exhaling as he worked through that cigarette, then lit up another as soon as that was done. She knew he was upset, by the way he chain-smoked like that. She just watched the scenery go by as they barreled down the dirt road toward their little house by the tiny lake.
Cherry was glad for the silence though. She didn't want to talk about what else she saw in those few seconds she held contact with the mechanic. It turned her stomach, and she did her best to not think about it. Fortunately, Syl never pried into anything of hers. That's what she liked best about him. He let her come to him if she needed to talk. He didn't force her into such conversations. She was grateful for his company.
"Oi, pequeña."
Cherry looked up at him, and a tiny smile tugged at her lips. That pet name for her always made her feel good inside, no matter how crappy she felt. He was still staring out the windshield but it felt like he was looking at her.
"How about we go see that coyote guy of yours, eh? You like that creepy dog of his."
She liked that idea. Albert was more understanding of her problems, just from what he was. And she did like his dog, all of his dogs. She nodded slowly.
"I'd like that. I'll bring him some quesadillas."
She was smiling when they finally pulled up to the small house. Syl bit the hell out of the filter of his hand-rolled to keep from taking back his offer. Fuck him for wanting her to be happy because of him, not because of that slick curandero. He cut off the engine and got out of the truck. She was already running to the house, disappearing inside. She'd left her bottle of water on the seat of the truck.
Back in college I had started a project that I tentatively referred to as “lobo y curandera” which isn’t at all creative but it worked as a placeholder (and has since stuck). It was, basically, a story about a swamp-witch-turned-desert-witch healer and her keeper wolf on the run from Bad Things while (not) getting by in rural Mexico. I haven’t worked on anything for that project in literally a few years, sadly.
Earlier today though, I got poking through the aesthetic blog for that project, @loboycurandera and found some things I’d forgotten about, but most importantly I found a ficlet that the wonderful @dharmagun had written for me featuring my characters and his. And I fell in love all over again.
So to make up for the deep shame I felt for having let that particular project fall to the wayside, I decided to make something. That something is Cherry, née Cerise Celestine Pascal Flores, with a newer look to her these days. Still the same ol’ curandera though.
I had a lot of fun painting this, and I learned a little more about using Sketchbook in the process. My laptop has some shit going on with its RAM so it has difficulty with Photoshop, but fortunately Sketchbook isn’t a RAM-hog so it’s easier to work with. Also this took me far too long to complete.
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5 Native Desert Plants & Their Witchcraft Correspondences 🌵🌸
• Chuparosa (Justicia californica)
- Native to Arizona but found in Southern California, New Mexico, and northern areas of Mexico.
- Flowers & petals are edible raw or cooked, dried or fresh.
- Similar to hibiscus, makes wonderful summer teas.
- Hummingbirds adore the flowers and the nectar is chewable like a gum.
- Great in tinctures, scrubs, and teas.
Correspondence: Air, Beauty, Love, Positive Energy, New Beginnings, Boosting Self Esteem, Romance, Sexual Energy.
• Brittle Bush (Encelia farinosa)
-Native to Arizona but found in New Mexico, Southern Califonia, Texas, and parts of Mexico.
- Not to be confused with the desert wildflower, desert marigolds, which unlike the brittle bush, does not have a orange button center and is poisonous to some herd animals like sheep.
- Stems, flowers, and leaves are edible. Dried, fresh, cooked, raw.
- The dried flowers make a soothing tea for stomach pains.
- Dried brittle bush leaves can also be brewed to make a medicinal tea. It’s great for mouth sores or those tight chest coughs. It taste slightly bitter and has a numbing effect.
- Local folklore says the leaf tea is great for arthritis flare-ups in the cold months.
- Don’t drink this tea before bed though as it can have caffeine-like effect in some people.
- Flower resins and nectar from this plant are chewable and chewed by locals like a candy or gum.
- Great in tinctures, decoctions, infusions, salves, scrubs, masks, and teas.
Correspondences: Earth, Sun, Healing, Cleansing, Banishes away sickness, Good Luck, and Protection, Friendship, Empathy.
• Desert Lavender a.k.a. Bee Sage (Hyptis emoryi)
- Native to Arizona but found in Southern Califonia, New Mexico, and Mexico.
- This is the supernatural plant, the bee’s knee here. Native American tribes like Akimel O’Odham, who’s beautiful people made what is now called Phoenix, AZ their home, saw this as a pure and holy plant that cleanse all evils away from the one’s spirit.
- Everything on this plant is useable. Leaves, flowers, stems, branches, roots. Can be dried, brewed, cooked, or eaten raw.
-Great in tinctures, decoctions, infusions, salves, scrubs, masks, and teas.
-In some Native Amercan practises it’s used to make smudge wands, but to those who are not native and wish to use it they may dry and use a smoke cleansing ritual instead.
- Traditionally used by Native Americans to cleanse the body of diseases and stop internal bleeding or heavy menstruation.
- Found often in landscaping because of it’s hardiness to the arid climates, can be seen wild though in Arizona, New Mexico, Southern Califonia, and Southern Texas.
- The leaves, flowers, and twigs can be brewed into powerful teas aiding digestion and gastrointestinal issues
- great for hangovers (drink a small cup of tea in the morning, trust me.)
- Contain anti-viral properties so it’s super awesome to combat sickness.
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once a lady told me that if my plants are dying even when I’m caring for them correctly, it means they’re absorbing the curses my enemies are casting upon me. so now when my plants randomly die, I wonder if they died protecting me.
✨Uses for yucca in witchcraft✨
🌵 as fiber rolled into thread for knot magic, witches ladders, and binding
🌵 a single spear/leaf as athame, wand or ritual knife
🌵 spines or sawtoothed spears in witch jars, protection magic, and curses
🌵 soap yuccas in cleansing magic. Yucca soap as spell ingredient akin to Rosemary or salt.
🌵 flowers in spells involving protection, luck, dreams and the astral
🌵 Joshua tree yuccas in strength/survival magic. Also for spells fueling change
🌵 yucca gathered from graveyards (common urban use, for some reason) in death magic or spirit work
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