I didn't realize Mardi Gras was so early this year. I've been wanting to get back into writing some Carousel material, and this idea just kind of came to me last night. At this point I have no idea where I'm going with the story but I thought it might be fun to just explore a little.
Enjoy!
Mardi Gras.
More accurately Lundi Gras, but to fifteen year old Becky there was really no difference. Her stepmom claimed she wanted her to have the full Mardi Gras experience, which was really a euphemistic way of saying Fredonna had wanted to go to New Orleans for five days and test her limits on alcohol consumption.
Becky couldn't understand what the big damn deal was about either Mardi Gras or New Orleans. She'd seen several parades, and they were fine if a little claustrophobic inducing. She'd gotten into the spirit to a point, having scavenged for a large handful of beads and three sought after doubloons. But the thing seemed more trouble than it was worth.
The odd thing was, her stepmom seemed to be trying to reconnect with her youth. At the ripe old age of twenty-six. "Who was this holiday supposed to be for?" thought Becky. Not really for a fifteen year old girl. At least, not one who was down there with her stepmother's friends.
It was seven thirty in the morning. Becky woke up to the smell of pancakes and bacon, but a nearly empty second floor home. Fredonna's best friend Caris had managed to secure renting an enviable location with a balcony. It didn't face any parade routes, but it overlooked one of the side streets where people filtered in and out all day and night. Either most of the women had gone out extremely early or they'd not made it back the night before. And there on the balcony was the unmistakable figure of Zelphina, Caris's girlfriend.
Becky had grown up in a conservatively religious household. Her father was a preacher, and her mother had been an organist when she was alive. While her dad had never spoken down about same-sex couples, she could always feel that he'd had a bit of discomfort about the issue. But Becky loved her dad, and had always admired how he never let his feelings dictate his stance on topics. But Zelphina wasn't just Caris's girlfriend. She was also a demon.
What exactly that meant, Becky wasn't sure. Her dad couldn't explain it either, probably because he knew just as much as Becky did. But almost two years ago, something had happened to Becky that she didn't talk about. She'd become possessed. Becky had never understood by what, but Caris and Zelphina had been there, and they'd saved her life.
"Good morning Becky," said Zelphina, smiling only with her eyes.
Becky nodded silently, swallowing a mouthful of pancake. She had to admit Zelphina had a classic Hollywood beauty to her, even if her demeanor had always been a little intimidating. Much more so once you knew what she was capable of. Becky didn't know how common demons were in the world or why this particular one was reasonably helpful, but being left alone with her in New Orleans the day before Mardi Gras was a concept Becky felt more than a little discomfort over.
Zelphina gestured toward the wicker chair perpendicularly angled next to Becky. "May I?"
Becky nodded. "Where is everyone?"
"The girls are probably out looking for reasons to be irresponsible."
"You didn't want to go with them?"
"I agreed to keep you safe."
Becky swallowed a larger bite of dough than she'd intended and had to resort to the milk glass for relief. "I'm fine here," she said.
"Yes. You are fine here. But you're bored."
Becky didn't respond, but it was true. When Fredonna had invited her (practically begged her) to come, she said yes primarily owing to the fact that she had nothing else to do. But she hadn't been connecting with the Mardi Gras experience for three days now, and the whole thing felt pointless to her. She shrugged. "I guess so."
"I feel similarly about this festival. It's strangely fascinating to witness how many people are drawn to this street party with so much joy and pleasure in the feigned debauchery, and yet I experience no attachment to it whatsoever. I've been asking myself why that is."
"Aren't you a demon?"
"I am."
"What do you do for fun?"
"I don't do for fun. I do for instructions. Why? Do you believe I'm missing out on something?"
Becky chewed up the last bite that she was interested in eating. "What if someone instructs you to have fun?"
"I give them a look that dissuades them from giving me that instruction again."
Becky tried to push back a smile, mostly succeeding. "Can you teach it to me?"
"Perhaps. But what do you say to a bit of adventure? You and me. The streets of New Orleans. Maybe discover what the heart of this beast is."
"What do you have in mind?"
"Absolutely nothing," said Zelphina. "We explore. You navigate, I protect you, and we go wherever you like. What do you say?"
All things being equal, it's usually a good idea not to agree to a demon's offer. But in this instant...
There was no predicate to that sentence. Becky didn't realize it, but she'd entered into a long, time honored tradition of people who'd said yes to a demon despite being taught to say no. And the rationale was always the same. It began and ended with "but in this instant". Even if this instant was somehow different than any other, at it's core it was self-permission to say yes.
Together they walked down the street.
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