The Boo Hag

Lou Sherry was a gamblin man- a man with a great hand for cards, but not a touch for romance. As lucky as he’d been at the table, it seemed that Lou couldn’t even muster the luck to have a woman so much as a smile in his direction. He’d unload all his woes to his Pa about how rotten the world had done him, and despite his Pa’s consultations, Lou knew that the world would probably never deign to throw him even a scrap of attention from a girl.

That's why when the day came that a woman sauntered her way up to Lou, gave him quite the eyes, and planted a little kiss on his cheek, Lou clung to that scrap of romance tighter than a starving hound to a bone. He’d met her at a dance his father had encouraged him to go to; she said she was the daughter of the delivery-woman who rowed her little barge through the swamp to bring the grocer his milk and eggs. She was out looking for a steady, strong husband willing to take good care of her, and Lou was the perfect fit. In truth, he didn’t know what he’d done to get such a gorgeous young woman’s attention, but he was quite thankful for it. Lou decided to shape up, quit his ramblin’, and get himself a job at the grocers so that he’d be exactly the man that she needed. He’d not known her long, but she’d managed to get quite the turnaround out of Lou.

After a bit of time, Lou managed to scrape together a decent enough living for himself- just enough to feel he was ready to ask that most important question. She was quick to say yes, seeming as eager to be married as he. Now, there wasn’t a church in Sweetgrass; the town relied on a traveling preacher who came every Sunday to the grocers, and Lou didn’t feel like waiting- but that wasn’t a problem for Lou. He was more than willing to row his bride to be all the way to Sutton where the preacher lived, but his fiancé was having none of it.

“Lou, that’s an hour's row, a mile’s walk, and then some. Let’s get us married in Beaumont by the judge instead.”

Now, that struck Lou as a little funny. Beaumont was by far a longer journey than it would have been to get to the judge o’er the preacher, but Lou wasn’t about to question his good fortune. To Beaumont they went, and the two were wed. With his saved up earnings, Lou was able to get them a little cottage; everything seemed just perfect- at least by day. She was a wonderful, doting wife who cooked, cleaned, and took good care of Lou, but she acted awfully strange by night. Lou would go to bed, but she’d sit in her rocker and knit, not joining him even as he passed into sleep. He’d awake around the crack of dawn, only to find her just now slipping underneath the covers next to him.

She'd never answer him as to where she'd gone, and anytime he pressed it she'd go from the sweet woman he loved to acting horribly snappy and short with him. It made Lou awful sore, but he'd decided he'd best let it be. After all, she was perfect in every single other way; who was he to judge her for a single flaw when she’d looked past all his? Not to mention, each morning he’d felt even more tired than he’d been during the day, so it wasn’t worth the energy arguing.

Still, his complaints made their way out the same way all other his woes usually did- in unloading all his problems to his Pa. Unlike Lou, his father was a whole lot more worried about the whole thing, and immediately suggested that he should get himself to a priest. Once again, Lou found himself in need of a preacher on a day that wasn’t Sunday, so his pa sent him along to the local conjure-woman with a few chickens in tow to serve as gifts.

He told the conjure-woman his tale, and she immediately had a suspicion of what his problem could be. She told Lou to go back home and pretend to go to sleep when night fell, just so he could see what his wife was getting up to each night. Lou did as the conjure-woman asked and lay in bed, closing his eyes and waiting for the sound of his wife’s footsteps. Sure enough, once the woman had been certain he was asleep, she began making her way up to the attic. Lou followed behind, careful to be sure she wouldn't spot him. He peered through a crack in the door, only to witness perhaps the more terrifying sight he'd seen in all his years of living.

His wife sat at the spinning wheel, spinning off her skin into a neat little pile next to her- leaving herself only a mass of red flesh and pulsing blue veins. She then got up, opened the window, and flew off into the night. Lou felt absolutely sick to his stomach. This is what he married?

That morning he was quiet at breakfast, unable to meet the eyes of the beautiful woman across the table from him. He finished up as quickly as he could, excused himself for work, and went straight back to the conjure-woman to tell her what he had seen. She nodded sagely, listening to her tale before beginning to explain.

"You've married a boo-hag."

She explained that a boo-hag was a witch and a shapeshifter, one that goes off to steal the life from people by riding their chests as they slept, stealing their breath. She’d seduce a man, ride them, and eventually serve them up to her boo-daddy. Well, Lou certainly didn't want to meet that fate. Something had to be done.

The conjure-woman explained that he needed to once again pretend to be asleep and wait for the hag to take flight. Then, he needed to get up and paint all the entry points of the house blue, for blue repels the boo-hag and haints alike. She told Lou to leave just one window without the paint, open just a crack so the boo-hag would try to squeeze herself through. If the hag couldn't get to her skin before dawn, she'd be done for. As for the skin she left behind, the conjure-woman told Lou he was to fill it up with salt and pepper so it'd burn the hag once she crawled back into it.

Lou promised to do exactly as he was told, and he headed back home with a heavy heart and a knot in the pit of his stomach. His wife had been a good wife- but he'd hardly agreed to be married to a monster who'd intended to serve him up for dinner. He went to bed, pretending to be asleep just as the conjure-woman had instructed him, and when he heard his wife head upstairs and fly out the window, he began to prepare the house. He painted every window and doorframe but the small cellar window, filling up her skin with salt and pepper. Lou then blocked himself into his room for the long wait until dawn.

As dawn approached, he heard a wild, furious screeching from outside. The boo hag had burnt her bare hands on the door and was now flying about the house wildly to try and find an entrance. She finally found the cellar window, trying desperately to squeeze in as the sun was rising, muscles and bulging veins twisting in her frenzy as she pushed through the crack and made her way up to the attic where her skin lay. The first rays of the dawn shone through just as she pulled on her skin. She’d just barely escaped the scorching sun, but now she was burning from the inside-out. The woman thrashed wildly as she tried to pull the skin back off, crashing through the attic window with a scream. Try as she may to free herself, it was far too late for the boo-hag. She’d well been cooked, and it seemed the gators would have themselves a fine breakfast.

Lou had been spared from a horrible fate at the hands of the boo-hag, but in killing the creature he found himself alone once again. But, if there’s one thing he learned- maybe being a bachelor wasn’t so bad after all.

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The Boo-Hag is a tale from Gullah folklore. Gullah/Geechee are and people and culture that find their roots in the American-South from those enslaved who brought over traditions from Africa.

Variations of the original tale can be found here and here!

Crescent City Conjure has has a wonderful video about Hoodoo and Voodoo as well, as a practitioner of Hoodoo (which is an active, living cultural practice to this day).