| “That old woman, ‘Toothless Willie, had been right!” thought Guy Diamond, the roving reporter for WGUN Channel 17 News, New Orleans, “This Alba des Glaces is a classic fortune teller!” He peered through the cobweb-encrusted window of her small shack in the swamp. She has the burning incense, herbal liquor, a silk headscarf, guttering candles, and all the trappings of the trade. She will make the perfect subject for his upcoming exposé on the chicanery of the Nuevo Voodoo.
He silently lifted his tiny video camera to the pane and began filming Alba as she performed a tarot reading for a particularly gullible-looking mark. He whispered into the microphone, “This is Guy Diamond for Channel 17. I’m here on location at the ‘house’ of one Alba des Glaces, where she is currently telling the ‘future’ for some poor schlub who undoubtedly paid her substantial amounts of money or traded valuable trinkets for her opinion of his future. Let us watch the expert flim-flam artist at work.”
He continued to film the session. This footage will be excellent in the promos. They would have to blur-out the worried-looking man’s face in the studio. Unless he was some low-ranked government official, of course. Wouldn’t that be great! As soon as the man left, Guy would knock on the door and ask for his own reading about some made up problem with a bogus sister. A special spy camera in his briefcase would capture the whole thing. Guy almost danced with anticipatory glee.
The tarot card session seemed to take a long time. He wondered if Alba might conclude the tarot reading with a little prostitution. He had heard that these mystics often would offer themselves up for a little extra coin. He would get that Edward R. Murrow award for sure if that was the case! He might try to steer the conversation that way himself after his own reading. Alba des Glaces wasn’t that bad looking.
Guy shifted his feet uncomfortably in the mud beneath the window. He didn’t hear the very large alligator rise up out of the water behind him. Guy didn’t realize what was happening when he was suddenly wrenched backward into the swamp. When the pain in his legs finally hit his brain he tried to scream, but only got a lungful of brackish swamp water for his efforts.
The dropped camera filmed the last thrashings of Guy Diamond. Then the camera continued to film the dark, stilling waters and small swamp creatures outside Alba’s home until the battery finally ran out and the scene faded to black.  |