The Voodoo KitJamaica was a wonderful vacation spot, except for the voodoo ceremony. I attended one and kept it secret from my disbelieving husband. Jim, an electronics wizard, had unexpectedly been invited to deliver a speech to an evening class at a local school. I found myself among strangers in a forest. After experiencing a live snake writhing around my neck, I vowed never again to dance myself into a trance. It's good finally being back in our country home, but something neither of us noticed at the airport was that someone else's suitcase was mistakenly switched for one of ours.
“Marla, I gotta run,” Jim said after breakfast. “See what you can do about that case.”
Getting our own suitcase returned could be a bureaucratic tangle in itself. I made numerous phones calls and learned w
