AngieTaylor did this:

I got Mary-Frances Eggleton to help me with the stuff, even though I know that means Daddy will hear that I've been in Savannah and not gone to see him. I could've snuck into Grove St. Elementary by myself, but sneaking in with a bucket of river water and a case of red wine's another thing. I didn't let her stay for the rest -- I don't want people to start thinking I'm a devil-worshipper or something -- even though I'm kind of afraid to see what might happen when I do the ritual.

Mambo Racine [I didn't remember her name, so you can correct me if you gave her one.] gave me two vevers and a match and told me what to do. She said go back to the first piano I'd ever played. Write a song about love and redemption. Copy the vevers for Erzulie Freda [For those playing at home, Erzulie is the Voodoo Loa of love, lust and luxury, and Erzulie Freda is the most benign and delicate aspect of Erzulie. She is a patron of the arts, dancing and beauty. Erzulie is often syncretized with the Virgin Mary, and is similar in many regards to the Roman goddess Venus.] and Ayizan [Ayizan is the Loa of the marketplace and public places, but also of initiation and the mysteries. She is a healer and a teacher, as well as a powerful protectress. Her Catholic counterpart is St. Clare.] in cornmeal on the floor, and feed them with pears and sugar cane. Then, fill the piano up with the water and the wine, and play the song. If I'd made the song with everything I had inside, and if the Loa accepted my offerings and if they were in the right sort of mood, I could use the match to burn up the piano and then the ashes would help get me some recognition.

So this is about the stupidest thing I've ever contemplated doing. I've got bowls of pears and cane, and I've got the vevers copied on the floor and I think they're right. Jesus, if someone walks in here right now I am going to have to just curl up and die. They've still got the same old upright piano that I used to use, though. Can't afford a new one, most likely. Got a song. I wrote it on the bus ride up here. It kind of came to me, like an old song I used to know but forgot. Most of the good ones come like that, and this one's pretty good, far as I can tell.

I'm amazed this thing plays while it's full of liquid. It sounds totally off, but not in a bad way. It sounds mournful and funky, but kind of spiritual -- I wonder if I can reproduce that on keyboard. Hm... I hope it's alright that it's leaking out the bottom. Now, the song. I wonder if anything really is listening to me. Probably not. Oh well, at least I got a new song out of the experience, right? I have totally got goosebumps. What if something does show up? And now... well, how're you supposed to light up wood that's soaking wet? I guess that's where the magic comes in. Shit! It's burning! Someone is totally going to see this through the window. Jesus, it's really going up. I hope the smoke detectors don't go off.

Okay, just breathe, just wait a few more minutes. Nobody's going to notice me in here, this neighborhood's mostly gone to bed already. Can I clean up the fruit already, or should I leave it? I better leave it. They're going to notice the piano anyway, and I'll be gone from here by the morning. Now, I need to put the ashes on over my heart for the next month... no... moon, that was it. How much ash is that, anyway? Mmm... Okay. Okay, I'm done. Did that do anything? I don't really feel any different. But it was burning, so that means they accepted it. Jesus, what did I just do?