by Reid, Terri
“And you pretty much ripped the happy rug right out from under his feet, right?”
“Yep, I sure did.”
Sally walked over to Eloise, gave her a quick hug and said, “Don’t worry about it. If I know anything about tall, dark and military he won’t be down for too long.”
Eloise thought immediately of the pushy blonde, Marilyn. “Yeah, that’s what I’m afraid of.”
She stood up, grabbed her hat and gear and walked to the door. “Let’s go get some black magic.”
Sally smiled. “Now that’s my kind of shopping trip.”
They walked out of the motor home and were greeted by the flash of a camera in their face.
“Hey,” Eloise cried, shielding her eyes. “What’s this all about?”
Sergeant Turner lowered the digital camera and shrugged. “Sorry, ma’am, I was just photographing the perimeter. Procedure.”
Eloise nodded. “Oh, sorry, Sergeant, you just caught me off guard. Please carry on.”
“Photographing the perimeter?” Sally whispered to Eloise as they walked to the SUV, “Doesn’t that seem a little odd?”
Eloise shrugged. “What doesn’t seem odd in our lives?”
Sally nodded. “Good point.”
They chose to drive down the River Road, a collection of minor highways that ran parallel to the Mississippi.
“Did you know that at one time there were 350 different plantations on this road?” Sally asked as they drove down the asphalt highway, “They were on either side of the river between New Orleans and Baton Rouge.
“I can just imagine them, like Tara from Gone with the Wind,” Sally continued, “Each one more luxurious than the next.”
Eloise looked around, noting the forty foot levee that now hid the view of the Mississippi and the petrochemical plants with their cranes, coal piles and smokestacks that stood in place of the mansions.
“Doesn’t quite give you those same feelings now, does it?” Eloise asked.
Sally looked out the window and sadly shook her head.
“It’s sad when things have to change so much.” Sally said, sighing, “There was such beauty here before.”
“Yeah, but the beauty was only skin deep,” Eloise said, “When you think about the atrocities committed against the slaves, these dark and dirty machines might be more representative of what it was really like.”
Sally nodded. “That’s true,” she agreed, “It’s too bad that we can’t have both – beauty inside and beauty outside.”
Eloise smiled. “Hey, that’s what we’re working on.”
Sally returned her smile. Then she looked down at her lap for a moment, gathering her thoughts.
“So, El, can we talk about Cindy?”
Eloise paused for a moment and then took a deep breath. “Sure, what do you want to know?”
Sally shrugged. “Will she be…is she… happy?”
Eloise nodded. “She came to visit me, after it happened. I was in my bathroom, bawling my eyes out and she appeared and called me a cry-baby.”
Sally chuckled. “Yep, that sounds like Cindy.”
Eloise laughed. “She said that she was good, that she was having the time of her life and that there was a big party going on welcoming her.”
“That’s great, that’s really great,” Sally said, looking out her side window.
“So, Sal, what’s really wrong?” Eloise asked.
“I guess these last couple of days has made me change my perspective a little,” Sally shrugged, “I suppose I’m not feeling as immortal as I used to feel.”
Eloise sighed. “You know death is a funny thing. We all know it’s out there, but no one wants to talk about it – it makes us feel too vulnerable. But I’ve got to tell you Sally, the more and more time I spend around people who get to move on – the joy I see in their eyes is remarkable. It’s like death is this great prize that we win when we complete our job here on earth.”
“So, you’re not afraid to die,” Sally asked.
“Afraid? Terrified,” Eloise laughed and admitted, “But not because of what’s on the other side – but because of what I still want to do here on earth.”
Sally nodded. “Okay, so let’s make a deal.”
“Sure,” said Eloise.
“Let’s not die until we’re real old.”
Eloise laughed, “Deal!”
As they drove closer to Baton Rouge, they could see glimpses of how New Orleans used to look. Large green trees lined roads and Spanish moss hung like tinsel from them. Clusters of small shops were at scattered intervals, offering everything from Civil War antiques to homegrown sorghum molasses.
“Oh, wow,” Sally said, gazing at the beautiful tree-lined avenues, “This place is just gorgeous. Look at those great trees. They’ve got to be over a hundred years old.
“Wait until you see the Cyprus trees, they are incredible,” said Eloise, “Like something out of mythology.”
“So when do we get to see them?” asked Sally.
“Well, they’re usually found around swamps and Baton Rouge actually has some swamps within the city limits,” she said, “You can take an alligator tour in a bayou within the city limits.”
“That is so cool,” Sally said, looking like a kid in a candy shop. “Do you think...”
Eloise smiled. “You never know what might happen.”
“You can say that again.” Sally agreed.
They hopped onto Highway 10 and drove toward the old downtown parishes. Eloise pulled off on Florida Boulevard and followed it to their first stop.
“Did you ever think it was strange that you like hanging out at cemeteries?” Sally asked, as they walked through the entrance of the Magnolia Cemetery.
Eloise shrugged. “Well, my informants are a lot easier to deal with than the ones the police have to use.”
Sally sat on a stone bench in the shade of a particularly large Magnolia Tree and watched Eloise slowly walk along the graves in the cemetery. Several times, Eloise stopped and looked like she was having a conversation with someone. Finally, she turned and walked back to Sally.
“I’ve got directions to the perfect place,” she said.
“Great, let’s go,” Sally said.
They drove back onto Highway 10 and exited on Plank Road, heading north. As they continued north, the shine of redevelopment they saw in the downtown was left behind and block after block of older homes that looked like they had seen much better days greeted them.
“Why is it that Hoodoo shops are never found in the classy, upscale parts of town?” Sally asked, peering out the window at the boarded up buildings covered with graffiti.
“Actually, the fake, touristy ones are found there,” Eloise said. “But I need one with a proprietress that actually knows what she’s talking about.”
Eloise slowed the SUV and rolled the window down. She closely inspected the corner stores they were passing. Finally, she stopped in front of a used clothing store.
Sally turned to her. “Why are we stopping?”
“Because this is where we can get our information,” Eloise explained. “Hoodoo shops generally don’t hang a sign out in front. They like to keep their work secret.”
Eloise and Sally climbed out the SUV and walked toward the store. A group of six young black men stood in front of the store. They stared at the two women and moved to block their way.
“Either you lost or you the man – you ain’t welcome here.”
Sally shook her head. “We are not men,” she said.
“I think he means that we must be the police or law enforcement officers,” she explained to Sally, she turned back to the man who spoke. “We are not lost. We come seeking information and we are friends.”
She moved her hand up to the amulet that she wore. The man’s eyes followed her hand’s movement and when he saw the amulet, his eyes widened in fear.
“Where did you get that?” he asked.
“In New Orleans,” Eloise replied, “Maria gave it to me f
or protection.”
The men stepped back and nodded. “You take your time in there; we’ll make sure nothing happens to your wheels.”
Eloise smiled at them. “Thank you very much.”
The inside of the store was crammed with racks of clothing of every description. They were divided into a men’s section, a woman’s section and a children’s section.
They walked past the clothing racks to a door that stood slightly ajar. On the floor, just before the door, was a red line of some kind of dust.
“Brick dust,” Sally said, “Keeps out your enemies.”
“Does it work on spirits?” Eloise asked.
“I don’t think so,” Sally responded, ‘Just living people.”
They stepped over the line and entered a large room filled with rows of shelves. The shelves were filled with all kinds of hoodoo paraphernalia; there were bottles of preserved animals – like rattlesnakes and toads, as well as herbs in every form – from powdered herbs to whole roots. There were feathers and candles, mixing bowls and pestles, and books that held incantations.
On the other side of the room was a long counter. Behind the counter sat a large black woman with a brightly colored turban around her head. She was dressed in a caftan that matched her turban and around her neck she wore a dozen or so necklaces, all with charms and amulets hanging from them.
Eloise and Sally approached the counter.
“I have been told of you,” the woman said, in a strong French accent, “I am Isabel DuPointte.”
“I understand that you can guide us, teach us what we need to know,” Eloise said, “There are many souls who need your help.”
“Tell me,” she said.
“There is a spirit – Lalaurie,” Eloise began.
Isabel inhaled sharply. “I know of this name, it is evil.”
Sally and Eloise both nodded in agreement.
“Yes, she is,” Eloise said.
“We have seen some of her work,” Sally added, “She does not have a soul.”
Isabel shook her head. “No, she sold her soul to the devil and now she serves him.”
“She is now trying to trap the souls of many who died during the hurricane,” Eloise explained, “She doesn’t want them to move on to the other side.”
“And you seek me, why?”
“We read her journals,” Sally explained, “They had references to Hoodoo – she used Goofer Dust to kill her relatives.”
“When we fight her, we need to be as prepared as possible,” Eloise added.
Isabel moved to a shelf behind the counter. There were several old leather bound books on the shelf. She looked them over and finally picked up a large volume. She brought the book back to the counter and opened it to the Table of Contents.
“So, she has tried to keep the souls of those who want to depart?”
Eloise nodded. “Yes, she has fought our attempts to free them. She has even killed one of my friends.”
“Do you know where her spirit resides?”
“Yes,” Eloise said, “At a plantation in the wetlands below New Orleans. I believe that she wishes to reunite the souls of the dead with their corpses.”
Isabel looked up at Eloise for a moment and then quickly flipped through the book. She pointed to a section.
“This is Yemanja, she is the Voodoo Goddess of the waters,” Isabel said. “At times she is a loving goddess, but she can also be very jealous. The people of New Orleans have forgotten her and she is not pleased. “
“So we have an angry goddess of the waters,” Sally said, “That doesn’t sound good.”
Isabel shook her head. “In two days time is her feast day. Those who place offerings to her will be able to request her help.”
“Even mad spirits?” Sally asked.
“Yes, she will be willing to help anyone who will be willing to pay her homage.”
“So, if she releases the bodies of those who were washed out to sea, then what does Lalaurie have to do to reunite the souls with the body?”
“There is a hoodoo potion that can reunite the body and the soul. I can show you the ingredients...”
“No,” Eloise said, “I don’t need to know the ingredients; I just need to know how to stop it.”
Isabel shook her head, “I don’t know how to stop her, that takes greater magic than I have.”
“Well, great,” Sally said, “We’re back to square one.”
“No, we’re not,” Eloise said, “At least we know that we only have two days to stop her.”
“One more question, if you don’t mind,” Eloise asked, “If the bodies come back from the sea and are reunited with the spirits – what could happen?”
Isabel shuddered and reached out and took Eloise’s hands in her own.
“All armies would be powerless against the Army of the Dead,” she explained, her eyes wide with fear.
“And her power would increase with this army,” Isabel continued, “She would not be stopped. You have heard of Armageddon? This would be the start.”
Eloise nodded. “I guess we’ll just have to stop her.”
“There is something else I must tell you,” Isabel whispered softly, leaning over the counter towards them.
“Yes?” Eloise asked, leaning towards Isabel.
A loud bang from the room behind the counter startled Isabel. She straightened and looked back over her shoulder. “Wait here,” she said. “I will be back.”
Eloise and Sally could hear muffled angry conversation in the back room. A moment later another woman, thinner and less friendly than Isabel, came out of the room.
“I’m afraid that Isabel has other things she has to attend to,” she said, “She asked me to give you this address. She said that you were to go to this place, from there you will receive the information you need.”
Eloise took the piece of paper. “Please send our thanks to Isabel,” she said.
They walked back to the car which had been guarded by the men at the front door. When they climbed in, Sally turned to Eloise. “Okay, this is always the part in the movie where the heroine goes where the piece of paper directs and then she gets there and it’s a trap.”
Eloise nodded. “Yes, I’ve seen that happen time and time again.”
“So, what are we going to do?” asked Sally.
“Go to the place on this paper,” Eloise answered.
“Yeah, I kind of thought we would,” Sally sighed.
The address led them to a small shop on the shores of Spanish Lake Basin. Big Al’s Alligator Tour was printed in big bold letters over the caricature of a smiling alligator. The cheery grin on the face of the reptile was inconsistent with the entrance to the ominous moss-draped alligator swamp. Tall Cyprus trees with five foot tall “knees” stood as sentinels guarding the secrets of the swamps. Egrets, herons and ibis glided into the water and dove for food. The air was heavy with humidity and the hum from the bugs was so loud you almost had to yell to be heard.
A very large man, obviously Big Al, with a florid complexion and short, blonde hair came out of the shack to greet them. Even dressed in a friendly Hawaiian shirt and Bermuda shorts, Big Al looked like a former mobster. His narrow eyes seemed to match those of the reptilian mascot for his store – except Big Al’s eyes were not as friendly.
“Afternoon, ladies,” he said in a slow Southern drawl that reminded Eloise of a snake, “Ya’ll interested in taking a tour?”
“So, are there real alligators out there?” Sally asked.
Big Al lifted his lips in the semblance of a smile and ran reptilian eyes slowly up and down Eloise and Sally. “Yes, ma’am, we guarantee that you will encounter an alligator or two,” he said, grinning at his own joke.
With his lips parted, Eloise and Sally noted that most of his teeth were missing and there was quite a large amount of chewing tobacco shoved underneath his lower lip.
“Yes, ma’am, plenty of real gators,” he continued, “Course they’re pretty quiet in the middle of the day.”
<
br /> “So, what do alligators eat?” Sally asked.
“Well, honey, they eat whatever they want to,” he laughed for several minutes at his own wit.
“We were referred to you by some friend in Baton Rouge,” Eloise stated, “They said that you might be able to give us some information that would help us.”
The man’s eyes narrowed and Eloise was once again reminded of an alligator.
“Yeah, I got a call about you two,” he said, “Didn’t mention you were lookers. Sure, I can help you, I can help you real fine.”
“Well, I appreciate that,” Eloise said, “If you could just show us the information.”
Big Al shook his head. “I ain’t got the information, but I can send you to someone who does.”
Eloise shook her head, “I don’t understand, send us?”
Big Al gestured over his shoulder to the swamp. “I got a map that leads you to where you want to go. We’ll just get that map out and we’ll get you on your way.”
“In a canoe?” Sally asked.
Big Al turned to Sally and a slow grin spread across his face. “No, ma’am,” he replied.
Sally breathed a sigh of relief.
“I’m sending ya’ll out in a kayak,” he finished, “I ain’t got no canoes for rent.”
Eloise looked around and saw dozens of canoes all resting on a network of metal poles that held the canoes above the ground.
“What about those?” Eloise asked, pointing to the canoes.
“Well, those are up for repair,” the man said, spitting a stream of yellow tobacco juice out of the center of his mouth, “You know, gator bites and such.”
“And this kayak, what does it look like?”
The man turned and pointed to a small fiberglass two-man kayak sitting at the bank of the lake, already prepared to go.
“So how much will it be to rent the kayak?” Eloise asked.
The man shrugged. “Cost you $100 for the tour.”
“A hundred dollars?” Eloise asked, “Seems like that’s a little high compared to the other tours in the area.”
The man turned to Eloise. “But we both know this ain’t no normal tour.”
Sally shook her head, grabbed Eloise’s arm and pulled her a short distance from the man so they could talk privately. “Okay, this is too much – this is the part where the bad music starts. This is the part where people die,” Sally said, “We can’t go into the swamp in a kayak.”