Remembrances
A New Orleans Magick/Moontouched story
by Tal Greywolf
---
Diane walked the old familiar path along Bourbon St., The mood was more subdued
than usual, even for a Friday night. The explanation was simple enough,
tomorrow would be the anniversary of Hurricane Katrina hitting New Orleans.
There had been retrospectives and remembrances written in newspapers,
magazines, and television specials that nearly blanketed the airwaves.
She didn't need to watch those specials, or read those retrospectives. Along
with her fellow dancers, they had ridden out the storm. First they stayed at
Mr. J's home, but when things became dangerous they were picked up by a rescue
team and brought to a shelter near the corner of Magazine St. and Octavia, a
shelter run by James Martin. Others she knew were there as well, Marsha and her
pack, Marco and a few of his folks as well as a few others.
No one could explain how James knew they needed rescuing, or even where they had
been at that time. Nearly all communications were down, from land lines to cell
phones, and there was no power to speak of. But he had given his rescue team
instructions, and using some old amphibious craft, had managed to drive through
the rising waters and return with everyone safe and sound.
During those chaotic days, James ran things with a natural sort of command,
everything having been planned in advance. He had generators in back of the
building to provide power, food supplies stocked up, medical supplies to help
those who had been hurt and injured as well as basic things like clothes and
toiletries. It was an amazing scene, in which everyone worked together to
ensure the survival of the community as a whole, both the mundane and the
metaphysical.
Privately, James admitted he had warning thanks to Rhiannon and her student.
Given that much time in advance, he pulled in as much as he could to start, then
started staging pickups in places such as Lafayette and Alexandria, knowing
those areas wouldn't be affected by the storm. It had cost him a small fortune,
but James didn't seem to care about the cost. All that mattered, he said, was
that his friends were safe, his community was safe, and that eventually things
would recover.
Diane thought about James for a moment. He was an enigma to many in the
community, a puzzle. He wasn't a vampire or werewolf (despite dating Marsha),
he wasn't elvish or known to be a mage. But he was financially well off, some
saying he was perhaps one of the richest individuals in New Orleans. His
contributions were well publicized, from helping rebuild City Park and the
Museum of Art to yearly donations to the arts. If there was a worthy cause,
he'd get wind of it and that cause would find their coffers receiving help from
him.
She was so deep in her thoughts of that night and morning Katrina roared ashore
that she didn't realize she was standing in front of her old place of
employment. 10 years had taken a toll on the former bar and showplace, the
weather beaten sign barely showing the words "Metamorphos". Mr. J had tried to
keep the place going after Katrina, but despite his efforts the city was in too
much pain. So he closed the place in 2007 and simply disappeared, none of the
former employees hearing from him.
After that it was downhill. For a while, she toyed with the idea of starting
another club, along with Kishanta and Mariko, but they quickly realized that
they couldn't recreate the atmosphere that would keep the mundanes out.
Eventually the core began to break apart, Astri and Brithe going back to
Scandinavia, Margaret moving to Las Vegas, Mariko traveling back to Japan to
take care of her grandparents, even Kishanta ended up moving to Atlanta. She
was the only one left, and it felt lonely.
She realized she needed to be around people, people who were like her, people
who understood what she was. She had some friends like that here in New
Orleans, but it wasn't the same as the nightly gathering, chatting and relaxing
with good close friends, savoring the transformation for the night's theme and
then going out on stage to perform for the audience.
There was a gentle cough behind her, and she turned around to look. A gentleman
was standing there nearby, nicely dressed for the weather which had been a bit
cooler and less humid than usual. He was clearly looking at her, a smile
playing around his lips.
"You'll have to excuse me, but is this the place that was known as Metamorphos?"
His voice held a bit of an odd accent, it wasn't a typical New Orleanian sound.
Instead, it had a mix of southern, west coast and Canadian, as if it couldn't
decide what to be.
Diane nodded. "It was, yes."
"Ah, then I'm in the right spot." He smiled and waved his hand. "Shall we go
in?" he asked.
"It's been closed for years now," Diane said sadly. Rather than being
disappointed, the gentleman chuckled.
"Well, why let a little thing like that stop you?" With that, he went to the
door, pulling a key out of his pocket. He unlocked the lock, then opened the
door for Diane. "After you, m'dear."
Diane shook her head, but stepped across the threshold. There was a momentary
tingling, then she blinked as she saw the place once again in all its glory.
There was Nate, standing behind the bar while the gentleman followed her in,
closing the door behind him.
At that, the lights came up on stage, and music started to play. Diane shivered
as the vocals of Etta James filled the air, one of her favorite songs she used
to enjoy dancing to. The gentleman led her to the center table, and once they
were settled gave a slight hand signal.
With that, dancers strutted on stage, eliciting a gasp from Diane. There was
Kishanta, looking like a black panther on the prowl, while Astri and Brithe were
a pair of plush snow leopards. Even Mariko was there, a Siamese feline with her
tail twitching with amusement.
The performance lasted a few moments, then the music came to a close and Diane
found herself cheering and crying at the same time. Before she realized it, the
dancers, her companions, her friends, were down by the table, giving Diane hugs.
"Oh gods," she managed to say through the tears, "you don't know how much I've
missed you all."
"They know," another familiar voice said, and Diane stared in shock as Mr. J
himself walked out into the room. Kishanta nodded, and Mariko gave Diane a warm
smile.
"You are the last," she said, in that charming Japanese lilt she had. "But now,
it's time. 10 years is long enough, the magic has moved on. And it's time for
you to move on."
Diane shook her head. "But..."
Mr. J shook his head in return. "No buts, dear. You've held on longest, but
it's time to let go and follow your heart elsewhere. To another place that can
use someone like you."
"And where might that be?"
The other gentleman coughed again. "Mr. J's speaking of my place. I own a
little club, much like this one was, and while it's not exactly the same as what
Mr. J created, it does have some rather, ah... interesting happenings from time
to time. And truthfully, you're experienced in dealing with a group of dancers,
you're capable and I really need someone who can help out in being den mother to
my own pack of troublemakers."
The other girls giggled and laughed, with the gentleman looking a bit sheepish.
"Oh, we've heard about your own trouble making," Kishanta teased. He merely
grinned and winked back before turning to Diane.
"So there you go. If you want to make a new home, you're more than welcome.
I'm not like Mr. J, but I do have a little help with some things."
Diane nodded slowly, then looked up at her friends. All of them held various
emotions in their gazes, worry, hope, expectation, happiness. They all wanted
her to be happy again, a feeling she hadn't felt in a while. It made her feel
warm and wanted, and looking back at Mr. J, he merely nodded.
"I really will miss New Orleans," she said as an answer. Kishanta gave Diane a
warm hug and kiss.
"I know you will."
Diane sniffed slightly, making everyone join in a group hug. Only the gentleman
didn't join in, knowing that this was for Diane. It was the voice of Mr. J that
broke up the hug.
"It's time, ladies." With that, they went back on stage for one final
performance, then blew kisses to Diane as they walked backstage. Mr. J himself
waited until they had disappeared, then did something he had never done before,
give Diane a kiss.
"Trust yourself, and you can trust him," indicating the other gentleman. "He
may be a troublemaker, but he has a good heart and means well for everyone who
works with him." With that, Mr. J went backstage. The moment he went behind
the curtain, reality wavered for a second, then left Diane standing with the
gentleman outside the old place.
"Damned showoff," he muttered, then smiled at Diane. "I am serious," he said to
her. "If you want to make a new life, well, here's my card."
He handed her a standard business card, and Diane looked at it. She managed not
to giggle at the name of the club, which was 'The Blue Vixen'. He even had a
blue vixen in silhouette on the card, and the address to the establishment.
"I can't say exactly when I'll be there, but I will be there," Diane said
softly. He nodded in understanding.
"I know how long it takes to leave a home, especially one like here. I know, I
grew up in this city as a kid, until I ended up in Southern California. Since
then, well, the Pacific Northwest has been my home."
Diane finally let a giggle escape her. "You really are a troublemaker," she
noted.
"Won't deny it," he replied. "By the way, if you're going to work with me, I
hate formalities. I'm just called Ray."
"I'm Diane."
"I know." He tilted his head to the side, and chuckled. "Oh, when you're
ready, give that number a call. I'll arrange for your belongings to be
shipped."
With that, he gave a wink, and his form altered a moment into a clearly female
blue vixen before going back to human again. Diane watched in partial shock,
then grinned.
"Maybe I will fit in up there," she mused.
"Oh, more than you might realize." With that, he turned and walked back down
Bourbon St. towards Canal, while Diane watched him.
"Just wait," she said to herself. "I've got a few tricks up my sleeve."
A soft laugh came from within the old bar, and Diane smiled to herself.
---
Remembrances
A New Orleans Magick/Moontouched story
copyright 2015 by Tal Greywolf
all rights reserved