They look at you with envy wishing they could just pick up and be as spontaneous. Trust me.” The last time I trusted Trudy, I found myself overserved in Mexico jumping off a ramp that wasn’t there and broke my ankle in three places.
When it’s our turn at the counter, Trudy instructs me to let her do the talking.
“Good morning, can I see a license and boarding pass?”
“Good morning,” she leans in to read the attendant’s nametag, “Marie L. My friend and I are on a mission. We don’t have a destination in mind, but my friend here, she’s in major need of freeing the demons placed inside her by the devil himself: her ex. And it’s my duty to take her away, cleanse her soul, and help her reclaim what she’s lost.”
I smack her. “Trudy!”
“See? She has hatred in her heart. She’s become violent and out of tune with her inner harmony. I need you to send us somewhere she can be rejuvenated. Body and mind. preferably body, ’cause sex cures all—ouch! Jesus, devil woman!”
“Stop talking about—”
“I know just the place,” Marie says. Her nails clank on the keyboard as she fires away on her computer. “Ah...yes. Here we are. Two seats. And they happen to be first class.”
“Oh, I can’t pay for first—”
Trudy throws her finger up. “Shut up. You know you’re not paying for shit on this trip. It’s my treat.”
“Trudy, you know I can’t let you do that.”
Marie hands us the tickets. “Don’t worry, ladies, there was no charge for first class. My treat.” She winks. “I appreciate your livelihood and think this is just the place for your cleansing and recreational needs.”
Trudy and I both lean over, examining the tickets. “New Orleans?” we reply in unison.
“Ahhh yes, music, cuisine, and vibrant nightlife—not to mention, spirits and voodoo magic. You’re looking to free those demons and cleanse your soul—that’s the place.” She prints out another set of boarding passes and hands them to us. Her attention turns to me, her eye contact striking, as if she can sense what I feel. “When you’re there, visit Erzulies Voodoo Lounge in the French Quarter. Head all the way to the back and ask for Tituba. She’ll fix you up.”
Tituba? What kind of name is that? Before I can ask, Trudy pulls us away and Marie is onto the next customer.
“That was kind of strange, don’t you think? Did you see the way she looked at me?”
“No. She seemed fine. And who are we to complain? She just hooked us up with free first class!”
While she drags me through security, a weird pull draws my attention back to Marie. Through the thick crowd of travelers, our eyes collide. There’s a strange shift in the air, and it’s as if I can read her thoughts. Embrace the journey ahead.
“Did you just hear that?” I ask, as if the woman is right in front of me.
“Hear what?”
“The lady. You didn’t just hear that? She said ‘embrace the journey ahead…’”
Trudy stares at me confused, then rolls her eyes. “Girl, you need a drink. The second we get through security, we’re starting. The next twenty-four hours are going to be something you’ll never forget.”
A buzzing sensation prickles at my nerves. I have a feeling there’s too much truth to her statement.
We’ve only been in New Orleans for an hour, and I’ve been in awe since we deboarded the plane. During the short cab ride from our hotel, our driver goes on and on about the city’s beauty and things we must experience while we’re here. Live music plays from all corners of the street as we pass each historical block. The overwhelming scent of creole food causes my stomach to growl, and I almost ask the driver to stop when I see a corner shop dedicated to daiquiris.
Even though the town is well known for their Fat Tuesday shenanigans, he informs us Halloween in New Orleans is second best to Mardi Gras. Being the city of the dead, tonight is said that the deceased chose this time to rise from their graves and dance and seduce the living.
“If you’re feeling adventurous, visit one of the original spiritual practices. Voodoo is one of our specialties. If you believe, you can still sense the presence of the New Orleans voodoo queen.”
Trudy and I look at each other, fighting off a laugh.
“Wait…wasn’t she considered a witch? And didn’t she die like a billion years ago?” Trudy asks.
“Ahhh…a non-believer. Some called her that. But she was praised