T.J. Laverne

Copyright © 2024 by T.J. Laverne

 

Chapter 1

 

February 10, 1880:

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A rain cloud passed over the midday sun, casting the Mardi Gras festivities in darkness. Hundreds of spectators looked upwards for a moment, then resumed shouting and cheering as if nothing had happened.

 

By the time Lisette Durocher looked back at the parade, the next float had arrived. She leaned towards the balcony railing of the De la Fosse Inn for a better look. It was another float of the Aztec People, the theme of this year’s parade.
At the head of the float was a large, angry sun, its face painted with geometric designs in flaming red and turquoise. The float, itself, was decorated with smaller suns and flowers. Everything was a fiery red-orange, as if the float, itself, were burning.

 

Elaborately dressed men in enormous feathered headdresses danced bare-chested around and atop the float to the beat of hand drums, some of them holding up shakers in their hands. It was a rare sight to see a bare-chested man dancing down Canal Street. Lisette grinned and leaned closer to the railing.

 

She felt a little tug on her right sleeve and turned around to look at her smirking brother, Philippe, who was sitting in a wicker chair beside Lisette.

 

“You’re a little too interested in the naked men.”

 

“Oh, shut up.”

 

Lisette turned her eyes back to the cobblestone street below without missing a beat. The next float arrived, this one preceded by a serene-looking, half-moon face. Along the float, smaller, yellow moons and stars were dotted amongst an inky blue.

 

A breeze fluttered the loose, black curls around Lisette’s face and she hugged her black shawl around her arms. Now that the sun was hidden, it felt like it was still winter.

 

As she shivered, a man in full costume approached De la Fosse Inn, following alongside the half-moon float. He wore a wolf’s head over the top half of his face. He walked with his arms curled up, his hands extended to reveal sharp claws, as though he were stalking prey. He growled and snarled at the crowd, then stopped and released a long, haunting howl upwards at the sky.

 

The hairs stood up on Lisette’s arms and she giggled.

 

The wolf man suddenly lunged at a woman in the crowd, gnawing on her neck. The woman screamed and everyone who was watching gasped. Lisette stood up, her heart leaping to her throat.

 

A moment later, the man released the woman and stepped back. He was still growling, but the woman was giggling hysterically and everyone around her relaxed and joined in.

 

Lisette took her seat again, though she felt a little light-headed.

 

“Catch him, it’s the rougarou!” someone shouted from the crowd, pointing at the wolf man. Laughter erupted everywhere. “Watch out, children, or he’ll eat you up!”

 

There was more laughter. A couple of men howled as the wolf man passed them. They laughed and clinked beer mugs.

 

“The crowd is even rowdier than last year,” a woman beside Philippe sniffed, disapproval written across her face. She was wearing far too many frills.

 

“We are on Canal Street,” said the man beside her, adjusting the brim of his top hat. “Perhaps next year we should stick to St. Charles Avenue.”

 

Lisette turned to her brother and they exchanged an eye roll.

 

“The Krewe needs to regulate the crowd a little better,” the woman crossed her arms, sulking. “This is ridiculous. There are people here from Tremé. Why are they allowed to watch with everyone else?”

 

Lisette ground her teeth. The neighborhood of Tremé was known to have the largest population of African Americans in the city of New Orleans.

 

“Maybe because the Krewe doesn’t own Canal Street,” Lisette’s tone was acidic as she turned to the frilly woman. “How would you prevent someone from Tremé walking onto Canal Street? Would you shoot them?”
“Lizzy,” Philippe scolded, though he was laughing.

 

The woman in frills opened her mouth in shock.

 

“Did you hear what she just said to me?” she turned to the man beside her. 

 

“No, dear, what did she say?” the man said absently, clearly not listening to her.

 

The woman huffed. “Never mind.”

 

“Really, Lizzy, you can’t say things like that,” Philippe whispered, half-heartedly reprimanding her. “You know it’ll get around.”

 

Lisette lifted an eyebrow at him. “Since when do you care?”

 

Philippe sighed and crossed his arms. “I should.”

 

Lisette frowned at him. Every once in a while, her brother’s conscience caught up with him. Thankfully it never lasted.

 

“Did you hear about the woman who was killed last month?” the woman to Lisette’s left asked her. She was very pale and her eyes were wide with fear. “Someone saw it, lurking nearby where she was killed. And on December 24th, too, the night of the first murder. It was seen there, too.”

 

“Saw what?” Lisette asked, feeling a tug of annoyance. It seemed as though this woman was starting a conversation in the middle instead of at the beginning.

 

“The rougarou,” the woman’s eyes bulged dramatically.

 

Lisette resisted the urge to laugh.

 

“A werewolf?” Lisette asked, making sure she understood the woman correctly.

 

“I know it’s foolish to say such things, but the rougarou is real,” the woman’s eyes bored earnestly into Lisette’s, making Lisette uncomfortable. “And no one seems to care. No one will take it seriously. But do you know the significance of December 24th, the night of the first murder, and January 23rd, the night of the second murder?”

 

Lisette’s mouth narrowed to a thin line. “What?”

 

Leave it to her to get stuck in a conversation with a lunatic at Mardi Gras.

 

“They were both on the full moon.”

 

Lisette scowled, wondering if this was true.

 

“The next full moon is in 12 days. February 22nd.  It’ll happen again, mark my words. Another murder.”

 

Lisette’s eyebrows raised. The earnestness in the woman’s eyes struck a nerve with her. The woman was out-of-her-mind crazy. Lisette had never seen a crazy person before, let alone spoken with one.

 

“It’s fitting, don’t you think?” the woman continued. “During Carnival and Lent?”

 

“And why’s that?”

 

“Lent is the time for us to be absolved of our sins. The rougarou is watching us indulge ourselves through Carnival and it is displeased. It’s been sent here to make us pay for our sins.”

 

Lisette felt a quiet chill on the back of her neck. “Jesus,” she said beneath her breath. This woman was intense.

 

She decided she was done with this conversation. If she kept engaging with the woman, she would just continue with her mad ravings. She turned away without responding, pretending as though something else had just caught her interest.

 

“This woman next to me is fit for a straitjacket,” she whispered to her brother. “Save me.”

 

Philippe laughed. Lisette sighed, trying to shake off the woman’s words.

 

She hadn’t known that those murders in December and January had taken place during the full moon—if the woman was to be believed. But did it really matter? Sure, those two people had been mauled to death by what appeared to be an animal. And yes, some people had joked that it was the rougarou. But no one really believed that.

 

No one really believed in the rougarou. The werewolf who lived in the swamps of Louisiana was just something parents told their children about, to scare them into behaving.

 

For decades, the adults of New Orleans had spread tales about the rougarou who resided in Bayou Rouge, the fetid swampland which had nearly overtaken City Park in Esplanade Ridge. Lisette’s own parents had so convincingly regaled her with stories of the rougarou in Bayou Rouge, that Lisette had been afraid to go to City Park until she was well into her late teens. The terror of those tales had been ingrained in her.

 

But she knew better now. She was an adult.

 

Lisette looked around at all the smiling, happy faces and felt suddenly depressed. She had forgotten that tomorrow was the start of Lent. 

 

The Carnival season was so joyous and carefree, it was easy to forget the 46 long days of solemnity and fasting ahead of them. It made her stomach growl just thinking of it. She rather enjoyed her crawfish boil and smoked sausages. It was such a depressing, miserable time of year.

 

The sun and moon floats had already long passed, and a marching band was now passing by. Lisette leaned forward over the railing, perusing the crowd for familiar faces. At long last, she found the face she was looking for.

 

“Ah, there’s Marie, right there!” she pointed. She looked sidelong at the frilly woman beside Philippe and raised her voice. “Our friend from Tremé!”

 

The woman exhaled with disgust.

 

“Where?” asked Philippe eagerly.

 

He leaned forward, interested for the first time since the parade had begun. His black eyes feverishly searched the crowd until they landed on a particular spot, and he smiled. His eyes softened and he looked suddenly lovestruck. Lisette resisted the urge to make fun of him.

 

Marie was waving up at them. She had been making her way through the crowd, looking for them, as they had been looking for her. Lisette and Philippe waved back.

 

“Let’s go down there,” said Philippe.

 

Lisette didn’t need to be told twice. She stood up, pushing past the frilly woman and the stuffy man without saying excuse me. A moment later, she was pushing through the crowd along the street and rushing into her friend’s arms. 
The people nearest them turned to look. Even down here, in the crowd, a white woman hugging a woman of color was a rare sight.

 

Though Marie and Lisette were the same age, Marie was still full of all the youthful joy that Lisette had lost sometime in her early teens. Lisette had grown into a morbid woman, bitter and resentful of her life and everyone in it. But she always felt lighter when she was with Marie.

 

“It was hard to find you in this crowd!” Lisette laughed.

 

“Did you just leave your fine balcony seat to come down and see me?” Marie looked guilt-stricken.

 

“The people up there were getting on my nerves,” Lisette waved it off.

 

Marie’s eyes landed on a spot behind Lisette, where Philippe had just arrived. She smiled a smitten sort of smile, then looked timidly down at her feet.

 

Lisette turned and stepped aside, so Philippe could come closer. He shuffled shyly forward, his head bent a little, looking like the young boy Lisette had grown up with.

 

Philippe, Lisette and Marie had known each other since they were children, ever since Marie’s mother had started bringing her along to Durocher House for Lisette’s gown fittings. Marie’s mother had been the Durocher seamstress before Marie had grown up and taken over the business.

 

But it was only in the last few months that Philippe and Marie had finally noticed each other.

 

Like Lisette, Philippe had grown into a morose young man, older beyond his years. And like Lisette, he was drawn to Marie’s optimistic attitude towards life. Marie had become one of the few people who could still make both siblings smile.

 

“Mademoiselle Baptiste,” he nodded, removing his top hat to reveal a black mane of curly hair to rival Lisette’s. He reached for Marie’s hand, giving it a kiss, and they exchanged a long smile.

 

Lisette watched the whole interaction, but so did many others. She was smiling. The others were not.

 

“Are you enjoying the parade?” Philippe asked Marie.

 

“Very much,” her smile lit her face.

 

“I’d be honored to watch the rest of it with you,” he chanced, looking nervous, as though there was a possibility she would say no.

 

Marie’s smile widened and she nodded, turning back to the parade as Philippe took up her arm beside her.

 

Lisette resisted laughing at the pair of them. She knew both of them better than they knew themselves, and right now they were both acting quite foolishly. Thankfully, neither of them seemed to notice.

 

In that moment, the cloud which had obscured the sun for so long finally receded, and the festivities were once again full of light. It was as if the heavens, themselves, were shining down upon Philippe and Marie’s moment. Rain no longer threatened to ruin Mardi Gras.

 

The debutantes of the Mistick Krewe of Comus, the wealthy hosts of the Mardi Gras parade, were passing by in their enormous gowns and their frozen smiles, throwing bonbons into the crowd. Marie and Philippe giggled together as they caught several and shared with each other. Lisette caught a few, herself, and eagerly popped one into her mouth.

 

“Did you see the half-naked men earlier?” Lisette whispered to Marie.

 

Marie turned to her with wide eyes and an even wider smile. “Sure did. I never knew I liked the Aztecs so much.”

 

“It’s a shame they weren’t really Aztecs,” Lisette smirked. “If I’d known the men from the Mistick Krewe of Comus looked like that without their shirts on, I would’ve spent more time on St. Charles Avenue.”

 

Marie tilted her head back and laughed.

 

No one really liked the Mistick Krewe of Comus, except during Carnival. They came from a different part of town—the English-speaking part of town—and they didn’t mingle with Lisette’s crowd—the Francophones—despite the fact that Lisette’s crowd was also filthy rich.

 

The Anglophones and the Francophones of New Orleans were separated by Canal Street: the Francophones lived north of the street, and the Anglophones lived south of it. During Carnival, everyone came together at the Mardi Gras parade, from all corners of New Orleans. And then when the parade was over, they returned to their respective corners.

 

“Which ones did you like?” Lisette asked. “Hairy, smooth? Skinny, muscular?”

 

“Smooth and skinny,” Marie whispered with a guilty smile.

 

“Definitely the skinny ones,” Lisette agreed. “But I don’t mind them hairy.”

 

Marie covered her mouth and giggled, turning slightly pink.

 

The rowdiness was kicked up a notch as a group of boys dressed as animals began to throw flour into the crowd. There was shrieking everywhere as women leapt out of the way, but no one really escaped the flour.

 

Marie fell over Lisette, laughing, as she was struck in the shoulder by a spray of flour. As Lisette helped Marie back to her feet, her own black, silk gown was sprinkled with white. Philippe received a face-full and Lisette bent over laughing for the next several minutes. Marie attempted to wipe the flour off his nose and cheeks with her handkerchief, and the pair of them giggled like children.

 

As the parade neared its end, the largest float approached them, casting a shadow over the street ahead of it. It was an Aztec pyramid. Standing at the very top, overlooking the crowd, was an Aztec chief, adorned with the elaborate mask of a gray wolf. He held out his arms wide, looking regal and fearsome.

 

Beside him was a smaller man in a more modest headdress, huddled on his knees, hands tied behind his back. Lisette gasped.

 

“Is he going to sacrifice him?” she whispered to Marie. “I read that the Aztecs used to sacrifice humans to the sun god.”

 

Marie made a face. “I hope not.”

 

At that moment, another rain cloud suddenly passed over the sun. Lisette looked up. Thankfully, it wasn’t as large as the first, but a cold breeze swept through the crowd. Lisette pulled her shawl closer as she began to shiver.

 

She looked out over the crowd, at the cheering, ecstatic faces as the Aztec pyramid neared ever closer. Others had noticed the man with his hands tied behind his back.

 

“Kill him!” someone shouted before taking a sip of beer from his mug. “Kill the bastard!”

 

Several people laughed.

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“Laugh now, but soon you won’t be laughing!”

 

Lisette looked up behind her, at the balcony from where the voice had come. The lunatic woman was standing up, screaming at the crowd below. Only a few people had heard her, but as the woman continued, the crowd slowly quieted down and turned to look up.

 

“Indulge yourselves now, but soon you’ll all pay for your sins! All of you! Judgment Day has arrived! The rougarou will come, and he will cast judgment upon all of you!”

 

“Ah, shut up, lady!” someone shouted up at her.

 

Around him, others echoed their agreement.

 

“You’re mad!” someone else shouted.

 

“Heed my words, or you will pay!” she shouted back at them.

 

At that moment, the lunatic woman bent over to retrieve something and was soon holding up a spear. Several people gasped and the mood of the crowd instantly shifted. Someone yelled “wait!” but it was too late.

 

With impressive skill, the lunatic woman pelted the spear through the air. It was at the right moment, for the pyramid had approached De la Fosse Inn and the top platform was level with the balcony. The chief was mere feet away.

 

The spear struck the chief in the ribcage. Lisette wanted to turn away, but her eyes were frozen in place. Through the holes in the wolf mask, the chief’s eyes bulged in shock as he dropped to his knees, his hands fruitlessly grasping at the spear in his side. He released a gurgling shriek as blood flowed down his side and pooled onto the platform beneath him. 

 

Screams filled the air from every direction. The chief released a final, gurgling screech, then tumbled down the side of the pyramid to the street below.