Murder On The Air

Voodoo, Hoodoo, does and Wendigos

After Louis cleaned up the glass windshield, the new parents made their way back to their home in the city. It was in a small suburban neighborhood but it wasn't where the wealthy lounged further up toward the countryside. They lived not too far from the French Quarter, a popular area where they would visit every week. Pulling up to the front of the house, they got out of the car, taking their baby with them. Little Alastor was soon placed in a wooden crib, where he was intrigued by moving mobiles and stuffed animals.

The parents took turns changing him, one rolling out of bed to let the other get some sleep. Most often Loretta would change him in the middle of the night to stop the crying. He was fed baby food and milk and gradually learned how to eat solid foods. It wasn't always easy though, he was a fussy eater at times.

Both Louis and Loretta watched as he crawled along the rugs and the floor, slowly exploring his surroundings. Their eyes filled with devotion to their son. Soon enough, he began to take his first steps. He was fed and mostly cared for by his mother.

Time went on and little four year old Alastor was soon in kindergarten just as the new century was beginning. Everything appeared to be going smoothly. Alastor would frequently read picture books by himself. He could use both hands to write and do arts and crafts. He loved to draw, too. When he wasn't alone, he would be a class comedian for the other children. His peers enjoyed having him around. He needed that good balance between socializing with new potential friends and spending time by himself.

Every time Loretta would drop him off, he would cry, not wanting to leave her. But he soon grew to like his classmates and the things he learned about. ABCs, simple math, animals, and beginning French. His report card was full of stellar comments.

The twentieth century had begun. Alastor would start first and second grade soon.

Loretta never knew quite when her husband had started become more aloof as the years went by. He was often busy at work and rarely got to see his son. When he did see him, he would mostly be tired and ask Loretta when dinner was ready. If Alastor acted out at home, Louis would growl and yell if he was in a bad mood. Just like at work, he would take out a gasper, inhale and let out puffs of smoke from his mouth.

"Doesn't smell very good," Alastor remarked, earning a glare from Louis.

"Ya get used to it," his mother said.

When and why Louis had slowly started to change, Loretta didn't know. Perhaps it was his job and the church that occupied his mind so often. Maybe he was already tired of raising a child and he wanted Loretta all to himself again. Whatever the reason, his personality gradually drifted from the kind-hearted spiritual man Loretta used to know.

Alastor never seemed to fit into his father's ideal image of a son. To Louis, Alastor always seemed slightly off. His skin too brown to be white and too light colored to be black. His brown eyes that would sometimes cross for no reason. The way his ears would stick out or how his dark brown hair would turn an auburn red in the light. Many older kids bullied Alastor for silly physical quirks such as those. Plus, he was lanky and didn't look much like a strong boy at all to outsiders.

But there was something else about him that didn't seem quite right, though Louis couldn't put his finger on it.

Louis was adjusting into the role expected for men: the provider and the dominant doer. Loretta would be placed in the submissive role more often than she would've liked. Most of the time, she didn't question it, for conflict wouldn't do anyone good, least of all, Alastor.

Louis soon became more and more devoted to church. Loretta had to hide her books and Voodoo practices from him. He had been confused and in disbelief when Loretta had told him about her culture. But after he became outraged after she had prayed to Bon Dieu, she never brought up the topic to him again.