New Orleans, Louisiana, 1984
what is this kalons favorite place?
[1760 / no limit]
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Louisiana Practice sat on the edge of New Orleans, nestled between two larger buildings that dwarfed its stout exterior, brick chipped and faded against the bright red lettering over the door spelling out to shops name. βLouisiana Practice, Authentic Voodouβ.
The concrete steps were, always had been, always will be, coloured a chalky red like crusted over blood. The rusty shade had been painted over the walkway decades ago, back when Granβs parents owned it, and it had just become another deep south tradition. Red brick dust was mixed into the paint thickly, said to keep evil from stepping over the threshold, and with the types of people their little corner store attracted, they needed all the help with protection they could get.
Thana, a white haired girl with eyes like the moon, grew up in the four walls that were passed by every day by tourists and locals alike for more βinterestingβ attractions. It was alright with her most of the time though, it meant more room inside the little place she had carved out in bustling New Orleans for herself. If you asked the passerbys about the outlet they would shrug and tell you theyβve never heard of it, that they got their fill of the
voodoo sights the state, especially the specific city, was renown for in little carts of fake dolls and words laced with mystery to invoke a purchase. The tourists wanted the experience of New Orleans magick without the danger of the real thing, to be scared a little with no real consequence, and Louisiana Practice sure wasnβt the place for that. Local folk either spoke of the store fondly or with bitter distaste, it really depended on who you spoke to. Thana didnβt care what others thought, the building was her pride and joy, and they had enough customers needing their products to stay in business this long.
Past the dirty glass panels and hard wooden door the building had an odd sense of being much larger on the inside than it appeared from the storefront, growing once you stepped through the threshold. The shop always smelt of old lumber and smoke, a nostalgic scent like your great grandparents home mixed with things that gave you nightmares as a child. Inside was long, almost like massive hallway that stretched on forever. The innermost part of it had dim light filtering through the dusty window panes, illuminating it more than the rest of the building, much unlike the back that sat darkly in the distance. Here the cash register sat as well as a little table with metal chairs, usually a jug of sweet tea still sitting out, always cool even in the warmth of the southern sun. It wasnβt unusual to see Granβ sitting around it with her closest clients in the late morning, talking in fond, but hushed voices over tokens and bundles of strange plants. It was best not to disturb them. Occasionally you could find Thana there, under the rays of sunset with a book twice as old as her sat upon her lap, pulling her long hair from her face with a wicked grin.
Mostly every wall was occupied with glass shelves in the store, some without doors, and other with them locked firmly. You could find anything related to any form of Voodou in those displays, sometimes even the occasional pagan or hoodoo item slipped in amidst, all with Granβs guarantee of being authentic and working to the purpose they were made for. A lot of things in Louisiana practice were handmade, beads threaded over leather rope and specific fabric sew together to contain small bones and herbs, all laced with a little chant or long ritual to invoke purpose over them. Thatβs how Granβ and Thana spent most weekends, actually, hunched over the front table recounting stories of their week to one another and piecing together products. Thana had always been especially good with the dolls, but in recent years Granβ had watched her more closely, keeping an eye on her granddaughter to make sure the words she spoke into her creations were the standard and nothing more sinister. That was a story for another time though.
The most taboo things sat in the front of the shop, handmade
voodoo dolls (never powerful enough to seriously harm another person like the tourist sort of clients wanted), amongst keepsakes and sage bundles. Little books with the history of Voodou, protection charms, and simple hexβs to annoy your enemy (Granβ herself often used the one that gave your rival foot blisters when she had a particularly annoying client). The more obscure sat farther back, gris-gris bags and various herbs and dusts mingled with feathers varying from the length of a finger to as long as your entire arm. Animal bones (at least, you thought they were animal bones) stood both alone and tied together with other things, the empty eye sockets staring out over the room. Robes used by high priests years ago, carpets from abandoned lots with sigils scrawled on them, jewlery each with a specific purpose, jars of things once alive but now floated in preserving liquid.
Granβ and her parents before her only sold the more powerful or negatively charged items to those who knew what they were getting themselves into. It was all too easy to get mixed up in things you had no right to get involved in down south. Thana however, got a kick out of getting folk into trouble, out of drawing them into a world of trouble that would curse them for years to come. A man once bought an old ritualistic vial from twelve year old Thana and later was found splattered across his living room floor, candles still burning and the vial gripped tight in his hand in what most called a satanic ceremony gone wrong. Granβ decided she would be the only one to handle the more dangerous products from that point on.
One thing that never failed to frighten new or squeamish customers were the snakes. The serpents were never pets, not bought and brought into the store, no they came on their own. The creatures slithered inside, staying as long as they pleased (sometimes a day, sometimes years) until they eventually took their leave. The thick wooden beams at the ceiling were occupied not only by hanging trinkets but also by coiled, scaled bodies that shined iridescent in the afternoon light. Snakes have always been a significant religious figure, from the serpent in the Garden of Eden to The Loa to The Naga. Granβ never minded them, said they werenβt exactly average reptiles after all (whatever that meansβ¦), played into her belief of the Loa who she served as long as she could remember. The Loa, spirits of Haitian Vodou and Louisiana Vodoo, were a prominent part of the shop, from the snakes hanging off the displays to the altar made specifically for them in the back. She spoke of the bittersweet gift they had given her a few years ago, but never elaborated beyond that.
The back walls, tucked in the darkest corners, were Thanaβs favorite spot to read in the dark of night. Though the rest of Louisiana Practice was open, wearily, to any and all customers, this corner was stricting monitored and prohibited to everyone except those Granβ deemed worthy. The old woman had a good sense on who to trust, could tell people's intentions with a single look. The entirety of these walls, obscured from view by the other various sights, were covered from floor to ceiling in dark wooden bookcases. Along each shelf, most completely filled beyond capacity, sat rows of books. The covers were worn and the bindings giving out, more than half centuries old with yellowing and torn pages, various stains in suspicious burgundy splocthes marked others, and all of them held a unique quality. Some were brightly bound in rich purples and faded reds, while others remained the same pitch black as the day they were created. The units werenβt organized alphabetically (that was hard to accomplish when a few dozen were in different languages, some of which were dead and unspoken in today's world), instead, they were placed according to their hazard level. You see, the simple religious Voodou texts sat low and in reach, while higher up there were the older writings and rituals. The uppermost shelves were the most dangerous, you needed a ladder to get to them for good reason, as they were all based around two common themes. Dark magick and Hoodoo. These ones were old, some scorched, most blood-stained, and all deeply dangerous to the inexperienced and experts alike. These books had been in the hands of people more powerful than a human being had the right to be, they all had their own tales of where they had been, what they had been used for, and none of them had a happy ending.
Gran had a strict no-touching rule for anything above mid-shelf, but Thana, ever since she was a child occasionally found herself with the opportunity, Gran being out and the day being slow, to read the lines of dark scrawl. It scared her when she was younger, to read something that sounded so much like fiction and knowing the person who had owned it before it wound up here had actually performed such things.
In reality, to the outside world, to those who had no part in the world their family had always lived in, that little outlet was frightening. Most teenagers in the 80βs were occupied with friends, music, relationships, even school. You have to realize that Thana was born and raised in the deep south, a place stuck in the past, where it was more usual to live like you were still in the 50βs than current time. Lousiana Practice had always been her home, a place she could truly be herself. Other kids didnβt understand Thana, as a child they made fun of her, pushed her around and picked at her insecurities. Now though, they were scared of her, since the incident where a long time bully said the wrong thing and she beat the boy within an inch of his life on the sidewalk outside. The light haired girl had always been an outcast, but after the incident she had become a complete social pariah. So, if you were to ask her, βWhy do you love Louisiana Practice more than any other place on earth?β Simply, it was the safest place for things like her.
