Vieux Carré Voodoo Read Online Free PDF Page B

parade turned into the Quarter, and the sidewalks were lined with
grinning people holding drinks and cheering, waving for beads with their free
hands. I started waving and tossing beads at people, a stupid grin plastered on
my face. “Happy Easter!” I shouted, and people cheered and yelled back at me.
Cameras pointed at me, and I grinned happily, sometimes flexing for the
photographers.
    What can I say? I like being the center of attention. It’s
fun.
    The carriages rolled up St. Ann, and soon we were in front
of a crowd of people in front of Good Friends Bar. The parade paused for a
moment, and the crowds pressed closer to the carriage. I started tossing beads
with both hands, waving at people I knew and making sure they got the best
throws I had. The carriage started rolling with a sudden jerk, and I had to
catch my balance again. The next corner on the route was Gay Central—the corner
of St. Ann and Bourbon. The crowd was even thicker there, spilling out of the
open doors of both bars and filling the sidewalks. They cheered and started
jumping and waving. The parade came to another stop right when our carriage was
directly in between the Pub and Oz. I started looking for David—he’d said he’d
be out in front of the Pub, but couldn’t see him anywhere. I was throwing beads
with both hands to hot guys on both sides of the street when I felt a strange
chill go down my back.
    It was a feeling I hadn’t had since—well, since before the
flood.
    I felt a little dizzy, like I was about to…
    Have a vision.
    I reached down and grabbed on to both sides of the front of
the carriage. I closed my eyes and took some deep breaths.
    Something—something is wrong, something is terribly
wrong. Just look, and you will see. Look, you have to see!
    And then, as quickly as it had started, the feeling was
gone.
    My body was covered with goose bumps.
    I turned and looked at the front door of Oz. I scanned the
smiling faces of all the guys with drinks in their hands, looking for I didn’t
know what.
    And then, out of the corner of my eye I saw someone in the
crowd who looked terribly familiar. My heart started pounding loudly in my ears.
    No, it couldn’t be him…
    I turned my head quickly. All I saw was the crowd, the same
faces that had been there before. I scanned their faces again, searching. But he
wasn’t there.
    It had just been my imagination, obviously, but the feeling
had been so strong…
    I’ve always been a bit psychic. I read tarot cards to help
me focus, and sometimes they gave me answers. In the year before the flood, it
seemed to be getting stronger and more intense. I’d communicated directly with
the Goddess, going into trances and seeing Her in visions. There had even been a
time when I’d been psychically linked to a man who’d been dead for almost twenty
years. But after the levees failed, it hadn’t seemed to work anymore. The cards
had just been cards, there had been no more visions, and I figured it was gone
for good. Maybe it had become so much stronger that it had burned itself out.
Maybe it was the negativity that followed in the wake of that last pre-flood
Mardi Gras. I didn’t know, and probably never would know for sure.
    It wasn’t like it was a science, or anything.
    The only thing I’d known for sure was it was gone, and to be
honest, I didn’t really mind all that much.
    Was it coming back? Why? And why now?
    Of course, it could have just been the mimosas.
    I sat down, grabbed my go cup, and downed what was left in a
few gulps. I passed it back to my dad, who refilled it.
    “You okay, Scotty?” he asked as he handed me back my drink.
Dad is tall and skinny, with a full beard and a graying ponytail. He was wearing
faded jeans ripped at the knees and his
I love my gay son
T-shirt. His
eyes were concerned. “You look a little pale.”
    “I’m fine,” I said, taking another drink and standing back
up.
    “You’re sure? Maybe you should sit