"As it stands, you shall reap what you sow. An ignominious end for a notorious pirate. Remembered as a villain, lacking as a man."
Jean leaned forward, taking a serious tone.
"I've never been lacking for anything, ma petite. I may be a villain, but the rest are no better than the thing I seem. The men who disparage me, they be hypocrites who hide. Hiding their deeds the bolder spirit plainly do."
He leaned back, smiling.
"It was a notorious pirate said something to that effect."
"Good," she said, nodding.
"Good. You may be useful after all. You don't believe in the supernatural, do you?"
Jean motioned around him.
"I believe what I can touch. And see."
She nodded.
"I can help you see. Would you like a demonstration? First, I would need something of value to you."
"Ah, ah!" Jean gestured. "I wondered when the ask of my wallet to open would come."
She didn't change her expression. Jean found her calmness off-putting.
"No money. I need something truly of value to you."
Jean stared at his host. A thought came to mind.
He didn't know if it was the sum of the evening, or the enticing fumes of the room. But he reached into his coat pocket. Removing his book, he laid it upon the table, hesitantly letting it go.
She spun the book around, observing the title.
"A history of the pirates. Hmm. I can see this has great value to you."
Slowly, she raised both her hands. Humming, she moved them over the book in circles.
"Now," she said, "I want you to tell me what you see."
She opened the book to a blank page.
Jean didn't remember the book having extra pages. Images began to appear, drawings as if out of a storybook.
"I see a young woman. Clad in jewels, finery, and a veil. All that one could desire. But she sits in front of a mirror. Sadness in her face."
Cruel and cold like winds on the sea, will you ever return to me?
Jean watched as his host began to shake. Her eyes rolled back, leaving only white. They kept going.
"Continue," she said.
"I see two ships, one large and grand, the other small. The small overtakes the other."
Hear my voice, sing with the tide. My love will never die.
She turned the page. Images continued to appear, rough and chalk-like in appearance.
"Two hands grasping. One light skinned, the other dark."
Jean watched the girl look up, hope appearing in her eyes.
"She walks hand-in-hand with a sailor. I can't see their faces. They're blurred."
Another turned page.
Over waves, and deep in the blue. I will give my heart for you.
"The woman now stands on a beach. She's looking out to the small ship from before. Its sails turned towards the horizon."
Ten long years, I'll wait and go by. My love will never die.
Candles flickered, then grew in intensity. Objects in the room began to shake. She turned the page again. Colors filled the margins, depicting the appearance of art from another culture. Persian, or Far East, Jean thought.
Papers puppets lifted off the page. The puppets began to move.
"Continue!"
Come, my love, be one with the sea. Rule with me for eternity.
The scene depicted a gathered crowd. Women young and old appeared in a state of distress, raising their hands to the sky.
Above them stood a man clad in green robes. A golden circle surrounded his red turbaned head.
"A man clad in finery. People bow to him. They are crying out to him."
The king puppet stood. He lifted his sword. The crowd of women flipped over to a group of men. They wore red coats and tricorne hats. They cowered before him.
"A king, grasped in grief and anger." For the first time, his host provided commentary. "Giving no regard to his actions."
To Jean's disconcern, the page turned again, but this time without her assistance. It depicted the king again, now standing over the ocean.
"Now he stands over the sea. He reaches up to his sword, and cuts his hand."
From the puppet's hand, a red sash fell from to the water.
Drown all dreams, so mercilessly. And leave their souls to me.
The pages began to flip on their own, moved by an unseen hand. Jean didn't remember the book having this many pages.
As sudden as they started, they stopped.
Biblical art filled the book. A massive serpent escaping from a sub oceanic prison, rose from the depths, ships in its jaws.
"He calls from the depths a creature most ancient and terrible from the undersea."
Play the song you sang long ago. And wherever the storm may blow…
The voodoo priestess' voice now echoed off the walls.
"It is a portal, a conduit, to that which is not of this world."
The book flipped through its never-ending pages.
Jean caught glimpses of strange creatures, nothing but fin, crustacean, antler. Woodcuts, inks, and paintings appeared, all depicting the serpent destroying ship after ship.
You will find the key to my heart. We'll never be apart.
The entire cottage began to rattle. Objects scattered from their perches.
"Look, Jean Lafitte!" she cried. Multiple voices spoke at once. "Tell me what you see!"
The pages turned with such speed that the images began to move.
"The ship from before," said Jean. "Firing all its weapons, desperate to escape. The creature is on top of them!"
Wild and strong you can't be contained. Never bound nor ever chained.
Jean watched as the serpent took the ship in its coils, sea and storm churning around it. The ship shattered, the depiction of lightning filling the images with white.
Wounds you caused will never mend. And you will never end.
Now the pages were nothing but black with ink. The sailor, immobile, sank lower, and lower, into the darkness. The book turned slower and slower, as he disappeared into the black.
"The serpent came for him," Jean said.
Cruel and cold, like winds on the sea. Will you ever return to me?
The book came to its penultimate page. The art returned to the storybook images from the beginning.
"The woman still stands on the beach, looking at the empty horizon. She's holding the hand of a young girl."
The priestess reached down and turned to the final page. Now the young girl appeared grown, a mound next to her where the woman stood. Still, she looked out towards the horizon.
Hear my voice, sing with the tide. Our love will never die.
As he watched intently, the image faded. In its place, the girl turned and looked towards Jean. With that, the book ceased its movement.
Jean picked up the book, flipping back through it. All the new pages were there, telling the story.
"Do you understand now?" said the voodoo woman. Her voice had returned to normal, eyes back to their places.
Jean shook his head.
"I've never heard this story. What is it?"
"The true history of the pirates. The secret history. It's time for you to finish their story."
metalguru presents…
Summer Project 2022
Lafitte's Landing
Voyage begins Summer Solstice June 21
Voyage ends (goal) Fall Equinox Sept 22