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There is only one city in these United States that I
would go back to without question or hesitation.
The people don't call it the "Big Easy" for nothing. When
I'm there, I feel more at home and at peace
than any other, with very few exceptions.
Some of my poetry has been inspired by New Orleans and
my times there. Read Marie, Jenny and The River. The last was written while I sat on a bench on the Riverwalk and watched
a young boy fishing in the Mississippi river. In fact The entire day that I
wrote
it had been quite exciting. I had been the complete tourist that day, riding the street car to LSU, eating Cajun
food, walking through the Vieux Carre, eating Cajun food, going to the aquarium at the south
end of the Riverwalk, eating
Cajun food. I did that a lot. At the north end of the Riverwalk is located the Cafe Du Monde. I stopped there about 10 am
one morning for some more of their beignets and
hot Cajun coffee. A waitress there told me that Marie Leveux's place was
just down the street from them, and that if I wanted, I could go to the City of the Dead and visit her tomb. She told me to
take three roses, some red chalk, and three coins. The coins and the roses were to be left for Marie, the chalk was to make
my mark on her tomb.
When I arrived at the "City" and found Marie's tomb,
there was only an old white haired black man there. He
asked me if I had come to talk to Marie. I answered yes
that that was exactly what I had come to do. He told me
that after leaving the coins and flowers,
to make my
mark and turn around three times while thinking of what
I would like to have Marie do
for me. He said that she
knew who was serious in their requests, and would grant the favors of those that were true. I laid the three roses down in
a cross pattern with a coin at the end of each stem. I then drew a pentacle in a circle and stepped back and turned (thrice
around must you go) as told. I stood there for a few moments thinking of my request when another person came up to the tomb,
so I left.I spent the rest of the day sight seeing and eating until it grew into early evening and the street lights
came
on.I again found myself at the Cafe Du Monde. I ordered those beignets and coffee and sat thinking about my day.When I thought
of my visit to Marie's tomb, I began to feel a little foolish. I wondered how I could have believed the tales I had heard
about her. I called the waitress and
ordered more beignets and coffee. She said it would take a few minutes, as the pastry
was just being cooked. When she left I was pouring the last cup of coffee when I noticed a very elderly looking black lady
walking towards me. I invited her to sit with me at my corner table and have a cup of coffee. She said no that she didn't
want any coffee, but that she would sit and rest her feet for a while.As we talked, she asked me the usual questions one asks
of a stranger, name, occupation etc, and what had I been doing today? When I told her of my trip to Marie's tomb,she smiled
and asked me what I thought of the stories of her. As I started to answer her I saw the waitress coming with my order. Before
I could utter a word, there was a scream and the crashing sound of coffee pot and beignets hitting the floor. The waitress
ran for the kitchen and the manager and several workers came running towards me.All the employees there were oriental seemed
to speak little english. At least they weren't speaking english as the manager tried to ask me what had happened. He kept
asking, "You know her? You know her?".
A bystander finally came to our rescue and listened to the manager a bit, then
turned to me and asked
if I knew the legend of Marie Levaux. Before I could answer
him, he said that the manager says you were talking to
her. I turned toward the lady that I had been talking
with and she was gone. Can you guess what my request at her tomb was? It was that I wished that I could talk with her.Several
years have passed since then, but they all
believed then, that Marie was there. I too believe
that she was. What do you believe?
©Richard
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