Father Michael knelt. Taking some of the powder in his hand, he made a loose fist and allowed it to sift through his fingers and trail over the dirt. Soon, he had formed an intricate pattern. He made a different pattern a few feet away, then stood.

"These are ve'-ve', the symbols of the loa we wish to bring forth. This is the symbol of Damballah and this is Ezili."

Allison looked with distaste at two entwined serpents drawn on the ground. The other symbol showed a stylized heart, more to her liking. "Why two?" she asked.

"You are not the only supplicant. That man over there, the one in the red shirt, he also wants to summon the loa. He hopes Damballah may grant him wealth. Did you bring the items I requested?"

Allison handed him the blond lock of hair, tucked neatly into a plastic bag. She took the rum from her purse. Spiced rum for a spicy love life, she thought - she hoped.

The priest clapped his hands and the drums began. Two of the hunsi, the faithful, brought forth colorful flags, took them to the four points of the compass, saluting the drums, the priest, and the two for whom the ceremony took place. Quickly, the flag bearers ran around the clearing, changing directions without warning, in an unpredictable dance of speed and color. All at once, the drums slowed and the flag bearers departed.

The drums remained slow and quiet. A goat was brought forward and tied to a post centered in the clearing. Allison's stomach lurched. The goat was a sacrifice intended to appease the loa. Father Michael took a pitcher of water and after presenting it to the four compass points, anointed the post, kissing it three times. He flung water on the drums, also in the sacrificial number of three. He dipped his hand in the water and bathed the goat's face, paying particular attention to the eyes, nostrils and mouth.

The beautiful woman who'd brought the bowl came forward carrying a white, spotless towel. She dried the goat with great ceremony, softly rubbing the black and white coat. Allison tried to ignore the smell of wet animal, squelching her disrespect at the foreignness of the ritual. Dangerous to disrespect something she didn't understand.

Father Michael shook a gourd rattle around the goat's face. Funny, Allison thought the animal would shy away from the noise, but it stood placidly still. A woman brought a white silk pall and draped it over the goat. She took cornmeal and syrup and gave them to the priest. Father Michael poured them on the animal's back, making trails and forming tiny crosses. The woman brought lighted candles, which the priest stuck on the ends of the goat's horns.

Allison felt uneasiness stir in her gut. This was reminiscent of what she'd read about satanic ritual.

Father Michael looked at her. "Don't be concerned. The candles represent the semi-divine nature of the victim."

Whatever that meant, she thought.