A brief note...

New Toulouse, despite all appearances, is not New Orleans.  It may seem like New Orleans at times, but it's not.  Instead it is a glorious approximation of a south Louisiana city set around 1918 in our past.

It's all the pain, the beauty, the lust, community and loneliness all rolled up, in a pretty package.

It's everything from the history and the imagination.  There are gators, zombies, hoodoo mambas and houguns, gentlemen, belles, sluts and hobos.  In Taloos, skin color is an option, cause we get all sorts.  There's a deep history, but it isn't ours.

It's there's.

They earned it.

1 - Waking up.

"Ouch."

Yes, that was exactly the right word, so I said it again, "ouch."

My head was throbbing and in spite of the warmth I felt clammy and damp.  Opening my eyes produced no obvious result, just fuzzy blackness.  A thousand possibilities rushed to mind each more improbable than the last.  Had I been mugged?  Was I injured?  Sick?  Injured and sick!?  Some decease from one them islands in the gulf, that must be it.  I bet I...

Oh, I'm lying on the wet ground, my forehead is against a rock and it's night time.  Well, so much for wasting deceases from parts unknown.

"Merde," I mutter while I looked around.  Exactly which wet ground am I on, and what is this rock at face level?  I rolled my head to the side, blinked in the darkness until I could see, and took a look around.  I was in the cemetery.  I'd recognize the above ground tombs anywhere.  So this rock my face was on was a tomb step.

"Bon dieu..."

As annoying as I found this situation, it was puzzling too.  At least I was getting two for the price of one.   What exactly was I doing in the cemetery at this hour and how exactly did I get here?  My memory wasn't doing the helpful thing of supplying answers, it was like a big fuzzy thing that had been blurred out, with holes in it.

It was at this point when I noticed something very disturbing.  My closest friend, and constant companion, Basil the snake, was no where to be found.  Couldn't see him, hear him or feel him.  Feel is the important part, for years and years now the only spot he was ever found was wrapped across my shoulders.  No matter what was going on, there he was.   At times it was troublesome, but he was always a comfort.  And now, he was gone.

Great, a three for one, annoyed, puzzled and now angry.

"Time to get to the bottom of this, best place to start is on my feet!" my internal dialog can often be quite verbose.

I stood up.  This was a mistake, cause I almost instantly fell back down.  My legs weren't behaving at all, like they were still asleep.  I tried the standing again.  This time it worked a bit better, but I was wobbly.  I stumbled my way to the cemetery gates, it was slow going but with each step it was better.  By the time I got to the gate I nearly crashed into it, but once out was nearly able to walk like normal.

I looked up and down the street, and blinked.  Maybe I wasn't were I thought I was after all.  The buildings were, not where they should be.  Surely I was still in New Toulouse, it looked like New Toulouse, and smelled like it too, but things were different.  Add a forth emotion, annoyed, puzzled, angry and now worried.

Walking, slowly but steady, I made it to the end of the road.  The street sign confirmed it, I was in New Toulouse alright, and I was just a block from my old bar, Lafitte's.  At this point puzzled and worried took the backseat and determined started driving.

I nearly marched up the block on a mission for answers.  As I rounded the corner at Lafitte's I nearly ran over a woman I didn't know. "A revenante!" she gasped and scrambled away.  Well, I'll have to find out what all that was about later.

The shutters of Lafitte's were all closed up, doors locked and there was no sign of my truck.

"Hmmm, how long was I out?" I nearly said it aloud, worried was threatening to take the wheel.

I went round to the back door, for some reason I didn't have my keys, went in.  In the pitch black I had to blink my eyes again to adjust, at least enough to find a lantern.  When I did, I lit it, and this did gasp aloud, "Guete!"

The place was a mess.  Furniture was all knocked about and in complete disarray, a lot of the picture frames had fallen, bottles were all knocked about and some smashed, the kegs were toppled and worst of all, empty.  The list went on and on.  Oh yes, and the ceiling had fallen in.  Loverly.  "Hmmm," I mused, at least the attic will be easier to get to.

Then I heard it.  It was unmistakable.  The subtle almost, but not, silent sound of a snake.  I looked up.  There, hanging on one of the exposed roof beams, was Basil.

"Basil!"

"Hissssssssss!"

Annoyed, puzzled, angry and worried all got in the trunk because relieved needed the space.  Determined was still driving at least.

Not sure who was faster, me climbing up or him climbing down, but in moments Basil was once again perched across my shoulders.  He clung on like he used to, a comforting hug that never stops.

"What's going on?  How long have I been gone?  What happened to me?  What happened to the bar?"  I asked all of this aloud, as if Basil could answer all these questions and clear it all up.

"Hissssss," he said, but it seemed to me to mean, "don't know, but I missed you."

I sighed and gave his long body a squeeze, "I don't know either, but we'll figure it out."