Specter of La Sirene del Crescente

On the longest day of the year, a town revives an ancient solstice ritual and discovers its unexpected power...

My mind was reeling on strange intrusive thoughts - s0 much that the tapping sound of my pen as I dazed at the page before me had become a steady and rhythmic distraction. One that after a few moments finally occurred to me as I shook off my daydream. The art commission I had intended to complete within the hour had scarcely been outlined and I still couldn't seem to focus. I didn't understand why - I had grown distant from my aunt Sharlaine over the years, and I scarcely knew her since I moved to Houston. Sure, she had raised me from the time I was four years old - and after my mother's accident I knew it couldn't have been easy. Her creepy old house in Tremé had always kinda gotten to me - and I didn't understand why she hadn't sold it after Hurricane Katrina hit.

The amount of death that permeated the area from flooding had been too much for me, and I was happy to live a life far away from painful memories and a place that I never really felt I could be myself. That wasn't to say New Orleans was awful, but I had left a trail of memories that didn't exactly make it number one on my choice places to visit. But replaying the voicemail I had just listened to just through my mind again, I had an instant pang of guilt attach itself to me.

"If this Lenïyah Delacreau, the artist please call Freud and Auclair Attorneys at Law for a matter pertaining to the Estate of Sharlaine Evangeline Marcelieu; your aunt."

I couldn't imagine what the estate lawyers were calling for - other than my aunt's obvious death. And that was what was holding me back from completing my client's job - a gig I desperately needed to be paid for and pronto.

"I'm never going to finish this in this frame of mind. There's no way in hell..." I groaned aloud, dropping the pen alongside the page and sighing obnoxiously, "No better time than the present as the old saying goes."

I lifted my phone and proceeded to call the law firm - knowing full good and well this was going to be the thing that would bring me back to New Orleans and since my aunt had only just passed away the night before I knew to expect it, but it didn't make it any less shocking.

The one thing, and only thing that could magnetically draw me to Nola was the loss of my only surviving family member and with it the sudden realization of how very damn alone I had become in the world.

"Freud and Auclair Attorneys at Law; this is Sabine speaking; how may I help you?"

"Hello, Sabine - maybe you can help me? My name is Lenïyah Delacreau and I am calling on behalf of Sharlaine Marcelieu's estate." I murmured.

"Oh, yes - I was the one who called you earlier, Ms. Delacreau, and might I add that I'm quite a fan of your art. It's unlike any other and your aunt bragged quite often about your unique talent."

"Oh, well...she never did say much. Despite the many galleries and art exhibitions - I never once saw her attend, sadly." I remarked.

"I'm sorry to hear that, and may I share my condolences. Your aunt's will is to be read on the fourteenth of this month and it appears yours is the only name listed. Are you able to attend on that date?"

"Yes, I will be there. What time is the reading?"

"One PM and I will let Mr. Auclair know that you will be in attendance."

"Fantastic, thank you, Sabine." I replied

"Of course - have a good afternoon, Ms. Delacreau."

"Right, Lenïyah is fine, and you too." I stated.

As I ended the call, I bit into my lip considering my earlier thoughts. Where in the hell had some random line of solstice mumbo-jumbo come from? I had never believed in any of that – and growing up in New Orleans among the Tremé neighborhood I’d been exposed to more than my share of Vodou, Santeria, and a mix of belief systems that were dominated by a strong Catholic overtone.

One that I absolutely hated and hoped to avoid as time had gone on. Houston was in the Deep South – sure, but there was a different aura around Nola and those who had been there noticed it instantly. For those who lived there, however, it wasn’t just a tourist attraction. Sometimes the people were so crazy superstitious that I figured I’d been hexed just for existing by the time I reached ten years old. My aunt Sharlaine was a devout Catholic and had several altars around the house. I never paid them much mind because in my mind, it was just a way for her to blame all the problems in her life on something supernatural rather than accepting that life was what we made it and only worked out for the best when he hustled our rears into the ground.

It was that mindset that had propelled me to success and launched my artist career – a career that was now being challenged constantly by the advent of GenAI and something that I was busting my ass to avoid becoming a has-been against. So far, I was treading water alright but times were definitely hard and I definitely lived paycheck to paycheck. A fact that now lit a fire under me as I glanced back at the incomplete page. I had four hours to get it done now, and somehow or another I had to push through the fog of my aunt’s departure and get it done – a fact that I wasn’t so sure I’d reach.