- Folklore, Myths and Legends -
-( 1997 )----------
A block and a half west of Elysian Fields Ave on Burgundy
Street, just slightly removed from the touristy French Quarter district of New
Orleans, sits a typical wooden framed, two story structure with faded buckskin-colored
clapboard siding. Next to the gate at the base of the wooden steps that lead up
to the porch and front door to the house is a hand-painted, oval metal sign reading
La Ficelle House of Voodoo – and, at the bottom of the sign, an arrow
pointing towards the right with the instructions: ENTER THOUGH SIDE DOOR. On
the inside of the gate, a pathway of stepping stones pave the way across the
front of the house and around the side to a small gabled overhang sheltering a recessed alcove housing a single half-glass door. Hand-painted on the glass, in
the same style as the metal sign out front: Mam’zelle Louise La Ficelle –
Readings and Rituals.
The decorating style on the inside of the La Ficelle House
of Voodoo might adequately be described as – typical Voodooshoppian: a little jingly jangly bell above the door to announce the entrance (or departure) of a
customer into (or out of) the dimly lit quarters; narrow walkways between rows and rows of
cabinets, all with tiny cubby hole shelves containing a wide assortment of
oils, perfumes, waters, washes and incenses; bin after bin of various roots and
herbs and plants; racks of talismans, holy cards, Tarot cards, beads and ritual
supplies; shelves of skulls and skeletal figurines - both serious and whimsical; and an entire wall dedicated to masks, Voodoo dolls
and other Voodoo curios. In the middle of it all, tucked in between two racks
of CD’s (presumably the latest and greatest sounds of Voodoo), sits a gray metal desk with
an old-fashioned cash register on one end. Behind the desk, in a well-worn,
wooden pedestal desk chair, sat Mam’zelle Louise La Ficelle filling out a
supply order form.
At first glance, Louise La Ficelle could have been mistaken
for a leftover from the Woodstock Music and Art Fair (3 Days of Peace &
Music) – her late 60’s / early 70’s Hippie fashion well-defining that
assumption. Upon a closer look, one could easily tell that Louise was barely in
her twenties – twenty-five tops. Her waist-length, brunette curls flowed over a
tie-dyed peasant blouse accented by an assortment of beaded necklaces and
bracelets – clanging against the desktop as she jotted down numbers on the
forms.
She stopped writing for a moment and glanced at the phone
next to the cash register.
Three seconds later – the phone rang.
-( 1986 )----------
Dr Alphonse Baroovra climbed aboard his touring bike, rolled
out of the parking lot of the Hotel La Ribaudiere onto Rue Paul Dussac and
started making his way across town heading west. His bike was a modified-for-touring, late 70’s Schwinn Paramount ten-speed - Campagnolo Chorus componentry, Brook's leather saddle, headlamp and tail lamp powered by a generator mounted to engage the front tire when needed, front and rear clamp-on racks with panniers, handlebar and rear rack bags packed for two
weeks of exploring on the roadways of Madagascar. He would make use of his tent
and sleeping bags for the bulk of the nights as the towns with adequate hotel accommodations
along the route were few and far between – the two better towns being the ones where
he planned to take a two-night stop and rest up. His food and on-the-road-cooking
was planned for accordingly also.
His travel plans commenced with navigating the crowded city
roads of Antananarivo for about seven miles until he intersected Route 4, at
which point he would travel predominately north to the city of Antisirnana –
approximately 680 miles away on the northern tip of Madagascar. Allowing
himself two weeks to make the journey with twelve days of riding and two days
of rest, he figured he would have no problem at all as long as he could
maintain a 50- to 60-mile per day average. Afterwards, he would take a bus back
to Antananarivo and then a flight back to the states – a "Tour of a Lifetime!"
But experiencing a bicycle tour of Madagascar solely for the
sake of experiencing a bicycle tour of Madagascar was not the predominant motivation
driving Dr Alphonse Baroovra. That motivation came after years of studying
resources and references outside the normal accepted medical practice. A study
that lead Dr B into the darkest corridors of alternative medicines –
alternatives based on absolutely no
scientific evidence whatsoever. Folklore, myths, legends, witchcraft, voodoo,
hoodoo – Dr B left no stone unturned in his quest to right a terrible wrong that
he had committed nine years before.
The most recent stone turned – the stone that for some unknown
reason seemed to make the most sense to Dr B – the stone that lead him to seek
out the blood of the Madagascar Panther Chameleon.
-( 1997 )----------
Ben Franklin High School in New Orleans was started in 1957
and originally housed in the old Carrollton Avenue Courthouse. As the school attendance
grew, so did the need for larger accommodations – resulting in a move in 1990
to buildings over on Leon C Simon Drive – on the campus of the University of New Orleans. Part of that first graduating class after the move – the 31st
graduating class of Ben Franklin High – were two girls who had shared over a
decade-and-a-half together as best friends and neighbors. Two girls who swore that they would remain "best friends forever and ever and ever" but who went completely different directions within a month after graduating from Ben Franklin High School. Two girls who hadn't spoken a word to each other in nearly seven years until...
“La Ficelle House of Voodoo,” greeted Mam’zelle La Ficelle
as she answered the phone.
“Louise? Louise, is that you?” asked Sherry.
“This is Louise La Ficelle. Who am I speaking to?”
“It’s Sherry – Sherry Castle. Louise, I need to ask you a
big favor.”
---------------------------------------------
“I’m telling you, Sal – it was right here!” insisted Albert as
he repeatedly jabbed his index finger into the lower right-hand corner of his
desk blotter – the exact same spot where now appeared only black scribbles –
scribbles from the pen Sal had taken out of his jacket pocket a few minutes
earlier. “I took JP’s pen out of the bike bag yesterday, scribbled a few circles
right here. It was blue ink. You wrote it down – blue ink ballpoint pen. Check your notes.”
-( 1986 )----------
On Day Four of his journey, Dr B had cycled into the town of
Antanambazaha. He had found a hotel – showered and shaved and was enjoying
dinner at a little café across the street. His journey so far had been nothing
short of marvelous. The first day had been the slowest and he fell short of his
goal by only cycling 46 miles. He blamed that mostly on the traffic in Antananarivo
– it had taken him a little over two hours to get out of town. However the next
couple of days more than made up for lost time – both of them right at 70 miles
each – topped off with a 65-mile Day Four.
Dr B finished his dinner, ordered a cup of coffee and then spent the rest of the evening engaged in his favorite pastime of people-watching.
Dr B’s itinerary included spending two nights in Antanambazaha
– the one-third point in his cycling trek. He would wash his clothes in his hotel room sink, do some shopping in the morning after breakfast, maybe a little site-seeing in the
afternoon, followed by an early dinner and prepare for an early start the next
day. He would then tour another four-day
stretch followed by another one-day break.
The final segment should put him into Sadjoavato on Day Thirteen – and a
rendezvous with a Sadjoavato resident who had replied to his letters and promised him a good supply of
panther chameleon blood.
On Day Six of his journey, Dr B awoke early, ate a good
breakfast – not too heavy, not too light – packed his bags, aired his tires
and hit the road – all as planned. He turned off of Route 4 onto Route 6 and
began the day’s journey to the north.
It was the last time anyone ever saw Dr Alphonse Baroovra.
(Back: Part 9 - Tinker Toys and Fireplace Pokers)
(Next: Part 11 - Fortune Cookies)
(Back: Part 9 - Tinker Toys and Fireplace Pokers)
(Next: Part 11 - Fortune Cookies)
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