Gabriel - Jessie Cooke Page 0,15

boys in his school, and he’d gone alone. He always felt like he had something to prove, and at that time what he wanted to prove was that he wasn’t scared of anything...not even the stories of the Voodoo priestess who still haunted those waters. Chance had mentioned the Rougarou, the Cajun version of a ten-foot-tall, human-like wolf that roamed the bayou...but Gabe had never been frightened of monsters. It was people who worried him, especially people like Julie White.

When Chance stopped talking, although Gabe hadn’t been able to hear most of what he’d said, he told him, “Man, I think we should wait. Catch up to him another time,” already knowing what Chance would say and already headed back out to his bike.

“Fuck that. This might be our last chance to get this asshole alone. Besides, he’s got a girl down here and she doesn’t look all that happy to have him pawing all over her. He’s not doing this shit again. Another woman is not going to live through what Sharon is still fucking going through. They’re in a pirogue, he’s got it tied off along the side, looking to get laid whether she wants to or not. He’s gonna be in for a big, fucking surprise. I’ll call you when I’m done then...”

“Nah, bullshit. I’ll be there. Don’t do anything ’til I get there.” The Mad Men were known for not fighting fair and Gabe wouldn’t forgive himself if something happened to his brother because he was too spooked to show up and have his back. The last thing he wanted was for his brothers, or anyone for that matter, to think he was a wimp, but he seriously hated this shit. Maybe it came from growing up with parents and grandparents who strongly believed in the paranormal aspect of New Orleans, but no matter how hard he tried to convince himself it was all bullshit, and he hadn’t really seen anything the night he was out there alone, he was still a believer.

The ride to where he was supposed to meet Chance would take about twenty-five minutes, but he would reach the swamp at least ten minutes before that and pass the spot where he knew he’d seen the spirit of that evil woman...Julie White. As soon as he hit the dirt road that ran along the stagnant green waters, choked with vegetation and algae, he could see the glint of a hundred pairs of eyes watching him. He was sure that most, if not all of them, were the gators and other critters that slithered along the mud-caked shores, but it did nothing to quell his anxiety. He willed himself not to think of “Her,” but it was impossible. Julie White was the star of one of the most popular and persistent tales that surrounded the Manchac, and since he was fourteen, the star of his worst nightmares as well. Julie was a Voodoo priestess. The facts of her life were that she resided near the swamp in the late 1800s and early 1900s in a cabin that faced the water, as far away from people and the city as she could possibly get. She, like many of the swamp people, lived off the land and the swamp as much as she could to survive...but Julie White also had a side gig.

She lived during a time when Voodoo was prominent in Louisiana, brought to its shores by the West African slaves and the Haitians that came as refugees from the revolution that was tearing apart their country. The concentration of Voodoo practitioners in New Orleans was so thick that it soon evolved into its own brand of the religion, relying heavily on gris-gris (charms and amulets), herbs, poisons, and the ever infamous voodoo dolls, and fed by the priestesses who were both feared and revered by all. Most people have heard about Marie Laveau but although Julie White was lesser known, that didn’t make her any less powerful.

In Julie’s reigning days, respected members of society—lawyers, judges, doctors, and the like—came to her with their problems or questions, and even consulted with her over important business matters or matters of the state. They all feared her, and Julie knew most of them hated her. She hated them as well and thought them hypocrites because of the fancy lives they lived in the city, and the way they’d sneak out to see her when they thought no one was looking. So, for years she took their money