Tag Archives: Baron Samedi

Dry Land (Burning Man 8)

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Roy Gillespie was on board the Coast Guard cutter Heron. He was safe in one piece. The EMT team on board had immediately hooked him up to an IV of saline to rehydrate him. He had been in and out of consciousness since being pulled from the waters of the Gulf. Several times he remembered thanking his rescuers and telling them emphatically that he was okay. The powerful thrumming of the cutter’s engines had a hypnotic effect on the completely exhausted roughneck and he felt himself slipping in and out of reality. He closed his eyes and heard the seabirds which followed the boat like a long lost kitchen.

Roy was dreaming now. He was dreaming of a beach in a realm without time. He was a seabird soaring along the shore. In the distance, with his sharp, precise vision he spotted a body laying in the sand. He circled, feeling a sense of the familiar with the body that lay there. He saw two grotesque figures emerging from the sand. Two demon like creatures had come up from the sand and gaped at the man who lay there sleeping. They seemed to be arguing between themselves. Roy soared in for a closer look. As he drew closer the demons started to flail their arms at him! They were warding him away. For what reason he could not guess. The Coast Guard cutter hit a patch of waves. With the jolt Roy woke up. He looked down at himself. He was in one piece but his head hummed. His vision was clear in his mind.

“That must of been quite an explosion back there sir.” Billy heard.

He looked up at the EMT. A young freckled face with aviator glasses looked down at him.

“Yes it was a blast. Just like in Kuwait. Did anyone else..?”

“Survive?” The EMT finished his question. “No sir you were the only one we found. The blast completely took out the platform. There’s a team there now still searching the debris.”

Roy rolled over on the pad he was lying on. He didn’t feel like talking at all. He couldn’t believe that all his friends were gone. Surely someone else must have survived. How could he be the only one? He drifted back off to sleep. Once again he started dreaming vividly. This time he was a small boy beside a campfire. He saw a group of men sitting around the fire. Beyond the flames it was pitch black darkness. He looked skyward and saw the stars as he had never seen them before. The fire sparked and sent up a shower of sparks that reinforced the stars in the sky. The men seemed caught up in a solemn discussion. One of them called to him. Again Roy woke up from a jolt. He sat up this time. The EMT was sitting on a bench nearby.

“How much longer…?

“Til we get to land?” Once again the crewman finished his sentence. “About twenty minutes now, we’ll have you home in no time.”

“Can I take this thing off?, I don’t like things sticking in me.”

“Sure, hang on.” The crewman stood up and gingerly knelt beside Roy. With swift precision he removed the needle from Roy’s arm. “Got some clothes for you here.” He turned around and produced a decent pair of jeans and a t shirt. Roy looked surprised. “Here put these on. An ambulance will meet you when we dock. I thought a guy like you would appreciate some real clothes and not some hospital gown. Keep ’em courtesy of the United States Coast Guard.” Roy saluted when he heard that. The crewman saluted back. “I figured you served. You seem like the type. Real calm like. My name’s Gabe.”

“Roy, Roy Gillespie.” Roy reached up his hand and Gabe helped him up. Roy was a little shaky and he leaned against the cabin wall. His head felt as if he was wearing a plastic bag over it. He knew the shock still reverberated through him.

“Well Roy it’s a pleasure to meet you and I sure wish it could’ve been under more righteous circumstances.”

Roy nodded. “You better believe it. Where we coming in?”

“Near the big easy Roy. We’ll be seeing you get to a good hospital. Doctors going to check you from head to toe.”

Roy nodded again. His vision was a little blurry. His neck itched a bit. He reached up and felt something around it. He followed it down. There on his chest was a gem. A peculiar medallion of sorts. It was the opal mobius. “What the …?”

“Must be a damned good luck charm. That’s all you had on with your long johns. You wouldn’t let it go even when we tried to take it off you.”

“I’ve never seen this before.” Roy managed to stammer.

“Sure thing. Just stay calm.” Gabe reassured Roy and held him by the shoulder. “Here we come in now.”

Roy clutched at the medallion and shuffled his feet following Gabe. Soon he was surrounded by a retinue of crewmen. They were applauding him. The Lieutenant had already brought the cutter to the dock with barely the slightest bump. An ambulance waited within sight. Gabe tried to help Roy onto a stretcher.

“If it’s all the same I can walk.” Roy said determined to get back on land. Gabe nodded and helped Roy to the ramp. Looking at the EMT’s from the ambulance Gabe said, “we’ve got him hydrated and he’s conscious. This guy is one tough hombre!”

Roy stood on his own and took a deep breath before the burly ambulance EMT helped him up and onto an awaiting mobile stretcher. Roy reluctantly lay down thankful that Gabe had given him street clothes. He’d rather have been going home.

“Let’s get this over with.” Roy said in a hoarse whisper as the ambulance doors closed.

Bondye (Burning Man 16)

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Madame Jubal returned with the tea. She set the mug down on the table and gasped. The tarot deck had changed. The fool had become the magician. She knew that Roy had not touched the cards. She had kept a close eye on his every move since he had burst in the shop. She looked up and the talisman hanging around Roy’s neck morphed into a face then became an opaline mobius again. She sat down with a thud.

“Where’d you get that? That loop?”

“Funny thing happened.” Roy smiled. “I found it when I fell off an oil rig. I mean after I was rescued it was around my neck. I don’t know where it came from really. It was just there all of a sudden.”

Roy reached and pulled the snakeskin loop from his neck. He held up the gem for Madame Jubal. Madame Jubal sat silently. He moved it towards her. She backed up and kept a certain distance, transfixed.

“What is it, where do you think it came from?”

“It’s not from here,” Madame Jubal lowered her voice to a whisper, “it’s from a place down under.” She held her fingers to her lips in astonishment.

“Bondye, Bondye, Bondye” suddenly Lafitte shrieked from his perch. both Roy and Madame Jubal jumped. “Bondye, Bondye, Bondye!”

Roy looked at Madame Jubal. “What’s he squwaking on about?”

“You’ve been touched by the Bondye. Lafitte don’t lie. He sees things we don’t see. I ain’t never seen him do that before. He saying you been touched. That must be how the card changed.”

Roy looked entirely baffled. He looked at the tarot deck again. The magician looked up at him. He could swear the figure winked. He looked back at Madame Jubal.

“You saw it too, that card changed and no one touched it. It’s a sign from the Baron. He follows you now. He can change things. Must be him you saw before.”

Roy frowned. “I don’t understand. I was blown off an oil rig. I was the only one who lived. I keep having dreams, the strangest dreams. Now I’m chasing imaginary men around and sleeping with snakes and gators. I came here to ask you what’s going on, what’s happening to me?”

“There’s not much to tell you now. The cards have read themselves. The Baron follows you!”

“Who is this Baron?”

“He helping you now. You have a mission to the Bondye. I can’t tell you what it is. Must be extreme. Baron Samedi can escort the dead, he can make deals with the spirits. If he following you now you have the blessing. Must be a calling on your head, I can’t tell you what you have to find out.”

Roy stared down at his tea. He stirred the mug with his finger. His other hand clutched the talisman. The shaped changed then stretched back. It was warm. “The Bondye, what is this Bondye?”

Roy looked at Madame Jubal. He looked tired. His eyes glistened.

“Bondye takes care of living things. Bondye tells the flowers when to bloom, tells the tide when to rise, tells the sun to come and the moon to shine.”

“Wow that settles everything.” Roy stared down at his mug. He had come to have some riddles answered but instead he had more riddles than before.

“You young and strong, you’ll get the picture.” Madame Jubal spoke kindly. She reached to take his hand but then thought better of it. She looked at him apprehensively now as if any moment something amazing might happen.

“Obelisk, Obelisk, Obelisk” Lafitte chattered in the corner.

“What’s that now?” Roy turned to Lafitte incredulously. “Obelsik?”

“Billy, Billy, Billy” Lafitte seemed nonsensical now. The parrot waltzed back and forth on his perch. Roy stood up to go.

“No charge for you today.” Madame Jubal said emphatically. He stood looking like a man in a dilemma. “No charge, now.” She suddenly seemed in a hurry to be rid of him.

“Obelisk, Billy, Obelisk” Lafitte squawked even louder.

“Okay then” Roy said and reluctantly walked towards the door. “The Baron is following me and the Bondye. My strange gem is from down under something. That clears it up, thanks.”

“You’ll get the picture.” Madame Jubal said this as confidently as possible as she locked the door behind Roy.

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Get off the cell phone and Drive! — Jake Shween

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Thunderstruck (Burning Man 15)

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The road rose up and quickly receded in the growing heat as Roy ate it up on his way to Madame Jubal’s shop. He’d been there before with his Uncle after his Father had died. He didn’t remember much except the smell of sandalwood incense, a large parrot and a cornucopia of antiques and curios. His Uncle’s cigar would trigger the memories every once in a while. Like the smell of an outboard motor out on the bayou. The smell of home and childhood. He fiddled with the radio as he rolled on to kill some time.

Boom, Thunderstruck by AC/DC blasted away. He turned it up. It took him back to Desert Storm. He had a vision he was in a Hummer racing across the desert. The .50 caliber machine gun roared as the song blended into the chaos. He saw himself in the Hummer but he wasn’t human. He had transformed into a reptile, a fourteen foot alligator. His helmet was huge and scaley. He felt very protective of his unit. His sense of fealty was overwhelming.

He raced past a state cop in a ditch. The sight snapped him out of his trance. The speedometer read ninety five. The cop looked up at his radar gun, shook it as it beeped, then dozed back off pulling the brim of his hat down over his eyes. For the next ten miles Roy looked in his rear view mirror. The moment was over, Roy got a shiver. He had dreamed of the gator before. In his dreams the gator had the eye of the sun. A circle with a dot in the center. He had no idea what it meant.  It was another question for Madame Jubal, what the hell who else could he ask? Most people would think he was crazy. He reached up and felt for the opal. It felt cold inside his fingers.

He was nearing the exit for the shop. He turned off the radio. He was looking around at the familiar sights. Not far now. He slowed down to a crawl and looked over at the shop. He nearly crashed the truck. The man from the gas station stood in front of the shop. He had a cane and a cigar. He was staring right at Ray. He beckoned with his hand, seeming to say welcome. Ray stepped down and gingerly closed the truck door. The stranger walked right into the shop tipping his hat as he went in. Ray began to hurry across the road, hoping to confirm it was the same man. He heard a noise from over on the corner, a crashing of a garbage can stole his eyes for a moment. When he looked back a stray cat ran around the corner of the building.

Ray threw open the door. Madame Jubal jumped out of her chair as the bells on the door swayed.

“Here now son,” she plead, “Don’t go stormin’ about like dat!”

“Did you see him? The man in black?”

“Son ain’t nobody here but me and dis here parrot Lafitte. Maybe some spirits but I can’t count on dem.”

Roy stood in silence. Madame Jubal could see was he was confused. Roy suddenly became apologetic. The familiar smell of the sandalwood incense brought him back to earth. He looked down at the table with the tarot deck. The image of the fool looked back at him.

“Sorry to freak you out like that, I swear I saw someone come in here!”

“Well me and Lafitte been expectin’ someone. Might be you I expect. Why don’t you sit down here and catch your breath. I have some tea to calm your self down some.”

“Okay. Thank you.” Roy sat down and looked around. Everything was familiar suddenly. It was all as it should be, everything in order. He clutched at the opaline talisman. It was warm. He looked down at the tarot cards again. The card he had seen before had changed. The magician was now in its place. it was a picture of the very same man, a buffoon, in very different circumstances.

“The Prince in his own bed

Going vulture culture

Walking with the Queen

To a Hoodoo Dream”— ‘The Loop Garou’ by Dr. John

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It’s Getting Hot In Here

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The phone rang in the Georgetown brownstone. It was the old style ring, the Speaker preferred it to the modern whirring buzzing. Only this night the sound was not welcome at all. He stood up and walked across the creaking boards of the old plank floor. He picked up the receiver and as he did he refilled his glass of scotch from the decanter on the table beside the phone.

“Hello” he said in a ragged scornful voice worn thin from years of blubbering on the house floor and smoking. “It’s late”, he protested in a defeated way.

He listened intently to the voice at the other end. His demeanor dropped. Reaching in his robe pocket he produced a pack of parliament cigarettes. His zippo lighter lit a dirty flame as he inhaled deeply.

“Well they haven’t’ gotten me yet” he said chuckling but his chuckle turned into a hard cough.

“What’s this all about?”

He pressed the receiver into his ear as if he was talking to someone far away. As he listened his face became flushed. He put the cigarette down in a ridiculous floorstand ashtray that looked out of the nineteen twenties. It was in fact an antique from the decade before the great crash. He creaked again to the scotch on the table. The phone was a land line which he had always believed were more secure. While he avoided stepping on the cord his face became engorged with blood and with his spray tan his face became a hideous shade of burnt sienna.

“How did you get this number?”

Miles away in a plantation house the Baron sat in a wicker chair smiling obscenely as he spoke softly to the Speaker of the House. His voice resonated musically above the sounds of the night time tropical forest. He twirled a fine cigar in his fingers. Seated next to him at the table on the veranda sat a beautiful woman with a tarot deck. Carefully she placed a card in front of the Baron. It was the image of the Fool. The Baron smiled and winked at Solitaire. Pouring himself some rum he continued to speak into the antique phone made of bakelite. The candles flickered on the table casting an eerie light on his skeletal features. Even Solitaire could not make out what he was saying. To her his voice was like the ethereal music of the night.

The Speaker looked like he was going to pass out. “No I wont pay the piper whoever you are!” Now he was shouting. “Stop with that stupid mumbo jumbo.” A Secret service agent appeared at the door to the parlor. He shook his head at the dark suited man and waved him away with a dismissive gesture. The Speaker slammed the phone down in irritation. “Just a Goddamned looney tune Bobby. Pay no attention. Don’t know how he got my Goddamned number!”

image

The Baron silently replaced the receiver down and hung up. With careful precision he extinguished his cigar on the face of the Fool card and nodded, smiling at Solitaire. She drew another card from the deck and as she did a tropical sea breeze caused the wind chime to play a dolorous song. The card was the Magician. The Baron held up his crystal glass to the candle. The flames grew.

The Speaker now collapsed into his chair. He was muttering to himself. He reached up to loosen his collar. Wiping his face with a handkerchief he was shaking his head. He wondered how he had suddenly gotten a fever. He felt faint. He was drained. Drifting off he snored the troubled snore of a man who owed too much.

In New Orleans that night Madame Jubal sat in her shop. The candles before her flickered and even crackled. “The Baron stirs tonight” she said. The clock on the wall chimed three times.

“Any fool can condemn criticize and complain – and most fools do.” — Benjamin Franklin

“Showing off is the fool’s idea of glory” — Bruce Lee

Get off the cell phone and Drive! — Jake Shween

I – 10 East, The Rougarou (Burning Man 14)

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The old pick up fit like a well worn boot. Just sitting in it reminded Roy of how good it always felt after being away for weeks on the oil rig. It started up and the motor made that sound that said let’s go. Roy picked up his water jug and took a swig. He put the gearshift in drive and pulled down the gravel road headed for I-10 East, right through Rougarou alley. He smiled as he remembered the stories his Father used to tell him about the legendary swamp creature. He’d never seen it but he sure knew a lot about it. Apparently it went back to even before the French Acadian settlers had arrived in the area. The local Indians had legends of a hairy beast that lived in the swamp and moved silently through the bayou with the breeze and used the Spanish moss as camouflage.

Roy turned on the radio. The news channel was blathering away about more government surveillance. He was glad at least that it wasn’t news of the blast on the rig. He still hadn’t made up his mind if he wanted to go back. He thought maybe he’d become a fry cook in some seaside town and make shrimp burgers and hush puppies for a while. He’d saved up some money from his time on the rig and maybe it was time for a change. He changed the radio station. WWOZ 90.7 there ya go, he thought, that’s what I need. Wouldn’t ya know it too, like a blast from the past, a time warp, it was Dr. John singing Loop Garoo. The hairs on Roy’s arm bristled up as he heard the strains of the Doctor’s voice. Just like the creature he thought. Looks like I made the right call, the radio is speaking to me now. Come back home it called, gonna pass the days.

Madame Jubal stood in the corner of her shop and pulled a package wrapped in brown paper off a shelf. Gingerly she unwrapped the package and noticed two beercaps slipped out of the wrapping. She chuckled to herself and thought about her Father who must have been the last to wrap it. She took out the framed carving carefully. It was a picture of her Great Aunt from Haiti. The picture was a delicately detailed wood carving that was crafted in such a fashion that it was three dimensional and almost alive. Madame Jubal held it and breathed softly as if she was in the presence of her Great Aunt. The eyes were looking at her. She could feel it. She placed the carving down and lit a candle. Everything in  the shop was suddenly alive, the place was filled with spirits even as the sunshine streamed in the window. Lafitte squawked in his cage: “Company today”.

“Yo sure is right about dat honey. We got company right now!” She sat down in a chair and held a Tarot deck in her hand. The image of her Great Aunt Anacona looked up at her from the table, the eyes on the carving sparkled. Madame Jubal knew something or someone was coming soon.

Roy drove along as the bayou flatland rolled by. He had the windows down and let the warm breezes fill the truck. He’d always loved the smell of the low country. The swampy brackish air had a way of making him feel at home. The radio droned softly now and his mind drifted off. He was thinking about Monique a girl had known in high school. They used to drive this route years ago on their way to visit her Uncle. The road had changed greatly since then. There used to be many places to pull over and quickly get lost but now it was built up and the side roads were largely gone. He often wondered what had happened to Monique. She had left town and married a doctor was the last he had heard. He sighed and looked at the gas gage. It was time for a break, he looked for an exit nearby. He still had an hour to go before Slidell.

Tiger Truck stop, easy on and off, it fit the bill perfectly. Roy pulled in and turned off the engine. He got out of the cab and stretched his legs, locked the door and went inside. Coming out of the convenient store was a fine looking woman. Roy realized he was staring at her. She smiled in her dark sunglasses and held the door for Roy. He literally had to shake himself out of his stare. He swore the woman was Monique but he felt so unsure he said nothing but “Thanks”. “Pas de quoi” she replied in Cajun.

Just then Roy noticed out of the corner of his eye a man in black at the far end of the sidewalk in front of the store. The man was blind as he held a white cane which twitched back and forth like a divining rod. In his other hand he held a lit cigar.  Roy blinked and went inside. The store was busy with truckers and travelers. A fresh pot of coffee was just finishing dripping. Roy gratefully poured a cup. As he turned around the man in black was right behind him. He held out an empty cup towards Roy.

“Do you mind?”

Roy said “not at all” and filled the man’s cup.

“Thank you now, y’all have quite a day ahead.”

Roy stopped. “What now, what’s that you said?”

“I said thank you. You best get going.”

Roy was puzzled by this. He headed to the counter. He wanted to avoid a confrontation. He felt for the opaline talisman. It was there under his shirt. He pulled it out and held it. It felt very cold. He stepped up to the counter to pay, he was going to pay for both coffees but when he turned around the man was gone.

He stepped outside and smelled a cigar! Sure enough there was a cigar on the sidewalk still smoldering. Roy gassed up the truck and glanced around the entire time. The man in black had disappeared completely. Just like the gator and the cottonmouth had done that morning in the swamp. He hopped back in and started down the ramp back on I – 10. He was softly humming the Loop Garoo.

“Sky full of Moon

The Night Owl was born

Gabriel was blowin’

On a little foghorn” — Dr. John, Loop Garoo

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

It’s Getting Hot In Here

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The phone rang in the Georgetown brownstone. It was the old style ring, the Speaker preferred it to the modern whirring buzzing. Only this night the sound was not welcome at all. He stood up and walked across the creaking boards of the old plank floor. He picked up the receiver and as he did he refilled his glass of scotch from the decanter on the table beside the phone.

“Hello” he said in a ragged scornful voice worn thin from years of blubbering on the house floor and smoking. “It’s late”, he protested in a defeated way.

He listened intently to the voice at the other end. His demeanor dropped. Reaching in his robe pocket he produced a pack of parliament cigarettes. His zippo lighter lit a dirty flame as he inhaled deeply.

“Well they haven’t’ gotten me yet” he said chuckling but his chuckle turned into a hard cough.

“What’s this all about?”

He pressed the receiver into his ear as if he was talking to someone far away. As he listened his face became flushed. He put the cigarette down in a ridiculous floorstand ashtray that looked out of the nineteen twenties. It was in fact an antique from the decade before the great crash. He creaked again to the scotch on the table. The phone was a land line which he had always believed were more secure. While he avoided stepping on the cord his face became engorged with blood and with his spray tan his face became a hideous shade of burnt sienna.

“How did you get this number?”

Miles away in a plantation house the Baron sat in a wicker chair smiling obscenely as he spoke softly to the Speaker of the House. His voice resonated musically above the sounds of the night time tropical forest. He twirled a fine cigar in his fingers. Seated next to him at the table on the veranda sat a beautiful woman with a tarot deck. Carefully she placed a card in front of the Baron. It was the image of the Fool. The Baron smiled and winked at Solitaire. Pouring himself some rum he continued to speak into the antique phone made of bakelite. The candles flickered on the table casting an eerie light on his skeletal features. Even Solitaire could not make out what he was saying. To her his voice was like the ethereal music of the night.

The Speaker looked like he was going to pass out. “No I wont pay the piper whoever you are!” Now he was shouting. “Stop with that stupid mumbo jumbo.” A Secret service agent appeared at the door to the parlor. He shook his head at the dark suited man and waved him away with a dismissive gesture. The Speaker slammed the phone down in irritation. “Just a Goddamned looney tune Bobby. Pay no attention. Don’t know how he got my Goddamned number!”

image

The Baron silently replaced the receiver down and hung up. With careful precision he extinguished his cigar on the face of the Fool card and nodded, smiling at Solitaire. She drew another card from the deck and as she did a tropical sea breeze caused the wind chime to play a dolorous song. The card was the Magician. The Baron held up his crystal glass to the candle. The flames grew.

The Speaker now collapsed into his chair. He was muttering to himself. He reached up to loosen his collar. Wiping his face with a handkerchief he was shaking his head. He wondered how he had suddenly gotten a fever. He felt faint. He was drained. Drifting off he snored the troubled snore of a man who owed too much.

In New Orleans that night Madame Jubal sat in her shop. The candles before her flickered and even crackled. “The Baron stirs tonight” she said. The clock on the wall chimed three times.

“Any fool can condemn criticize and complain – and most fools do.” — Benjamin Franklin

“Showing off is the fool’s idea of glory” — Bruce Lee

Get off the cell phone and Drive! — Jake Shween