Chimera in New Orleans

By Lauren Savoie

As a bloodthirsty chimera terrorizes his city, can Jake shift from downtrodden young man to unlikely hero?

One year after the passing of Hurricane Katrina in New Orleans, Jake, an 18-year-old boy who has just graduated high school, finds himself depressed and unsure about his future, not to mention riddled with anxiety from being st

• Language: English
• Publisher: Atmosphere Press
• Release date: Jan 1, 2020
• ISBN: 9781646693573

Book preview

Chapter One: Alligator Fest

I stared up at the ceiling from my bed, imagining my graduation last week from Leonidas High. I wore a solid red graduation cap and gown, and my hair was a hot mess. I smiled and waved to my parents as I received my diploma, and stepped off the stage, out the auditorium doors, and off into the world. My grades were less than stellar, but here I was, a high school graduate at last.

And now, at the height of a humid Louisiana summer, I wanted to taste sweet freedom and spend time with my friends. It’s not like I signed up for college, either. I couldn’t afford that just yet and decided to just spend a year working and figure out my life.

I had gotten a call from my friend Maggie about an hour earlier inviting me to the Alligator Festival in Luling, Louisiana, and I was so excited that I tripped over my own flip-flops while I was on the phone.

We got a ride from Maggie’s friend, Aurora De’Mar, from New Orleans to Luling, Louisiana, about a half-hour away. Luling is where they have the most spectacular festival, or fair, known to man: The Alligator Festival.

The Alligator Festival spans an entire weekend, from 10 in the morning to midnight the next day. There are no cancellations, even if your rainboots are filled with water. There are usually at least five different food stands, many of which include southern delicacies like alligator nuggets. And, of course, there’s live music each day ranging from country to zydeco to rap.

As I walked up to the admission gate, I noticed all the mosquitos already buzzing under the fluorescent lights of the park in full force. Summer was here, and it wasn’t looking like it was gonna be easy.

One dollar, the man at the counter said with a grunt. I handed him the cash and I stared at his hands, covered in grime. It was lucky for me that it only cost a buck, or I probably wouldn’t be at the festival. Shoot, I’m only 18 years old.

My family, the Dubois, consisted of me, my step-father Paul, my mother Genevieve, and my brother, David. We weren’t exactly the perfect peas-in-a-pod family. Money was tight, so we made do with one car to share between all of us. We’d had the same car since 1995, shockingly enough: a rusty van that was half burgundy, half caked-on dirt. I cut lawns to try and help pay the family bills, but it wasn’t helping much.

Look at that ride! exclaimed Aurora, pointing her delicate, thin finger.

Maggie and I looked up. Woah, we said at the same time.

Lit in the evening lights was an alligator-shaped swinging ship that looked like it would hold at least 20 people.

Oh my god! exclaimed Maggie. This looks like so much fun.

The face of the alligator, with buttery twinkling eyes and sharp choppers, gazed back at us. Its scaly olive body was the hull of the boat. The ride looked just like your typical pirate ship ride, but with an animal theme. The hull held a large mass of people who were swinging back and forth, left to right, in the damp night air. We walked slowly through the wet grass towards it and watched as it loomed above our heads like a statue of a god.

Yeah…I don’t know about this, I said.

Oh, come on, Jake, laughed Maggie. Let’s try it out! We might as well.

I was kind of hoping we could get some food first… muttered Aurora sheepishly.

Trust me, Maggie said, You don’t want to eat before you go on this thing. Maybe you should grab some food, and we’ll meet you in a few!

Aurora shrugged, jingling several turquoise bracelets and beads on her left wrist. She sashayed off towards a stand that screamed, Gator Bits, Gator Gumbo, Gator on a Stick.

We headed in line to get on the alligator ship ride. It was a long wait, and I looked at my watch.

I took a moment to look around. They had the usual things you might expect at a fair: water guns, piles of stuffed animals waiting to be taken home, kids with giant Slurpee cups. There was a swamp-themed mirror maze, a slow-going marshland boat ride for little kids, and of course, the over-the-top alligator canoe. I saw one child eagerly bouncing up and down in his light-up tennis shoes and pointing upwards as he waited in line for the mudslide, which was a slide with multiple lanes and at least a one-story drop.

Where’s Aurora? I asked Maggie. At that moment, we both turned and saw her nudging her way through the line towards us.

’S’couse me! Coming through! Aurora muttered to some irritated-looking parents and their children as she cut over them to reach us. One child accidentally tripped and fell in the mud and started crying. Aurora turned around immediately. Oh, great. I’m so sorry. Are you okay?

We are perfectly fine, thanks, the child’s mother snapped as she picked up her son and checked his dirty knees for bruises.

Aurora sighed. She turned around with a resigned look on her face and then suddenly became cheerful. She had half a stick in her hand. She must have seen my questioning look because she then blurted out, Gator on a stick, Jake! It’s amazing! before taking another bite. Maggie shrugged, smiling.

Eventually, we reached the front of the line and climbed into the canoe.

We went along with Maggie and jumped in the back, taking up our own row. A little girl in a unicorn t-shirt with blonde pigtails sat in front of us with her mother.

Before we knew it, the boat began to sway side to side. Aurora and I started holding onto the edges as it swung higher up into the air each time.  Then, it started to sway higher into the air at a faster and faster pace until I felt my stomach fall like I’d just eaten ten lemon pies. Finally, the boat turned so much that our bodies were angled sideways and we had to hold on tight to the bars of the ride. A few parents and kids were screaming and I wondered if this was how this ship ride was supposed to be. Aurora and I were screaming in fear, but Maggie was silent — her eyes were just wide open like she was taking it all in.

A few minutes later, the ride started shaking, and people began gasping and screaming in ways that didn’t seem as joyous as before. The giant alligator-shaped boat slowed down until stopping all the way at the top. Aurora laughed nervously. We looked at each other, smiling, figuring it would go down after a while, but it didn’t. All of us were hanging slightly sideways as the boat was tipped high in the air, and we all had to hold onto the bars, so we wouldn’t fall out. My hands and face started gathering sweat.

Would you mind letting us down already? yelled Aurora.

Hold on! a man in an Alligator Festival uniform yelled from the ground. He sported a baseball cap with a friendly winking cartoon alligator. I’m going to work on fixing this as fast as I can! Everyone stay calm, alright?

Are we stuck on this thing? Maggie mumbled. Oh, yikes, she said, looking down at how high up we were above the tiny fairy-like people below.

A young mother in front of me started yelling down at the worker. Can you get us off here already? I can barely hold on anymore, and my little one is really heavy!

We’ll be fine, Maggie, I said, though I had no clue at all. We need to be patient, right?

Some unimaginable length of time that felt like waiting to get out of algebra class passed before the man yelled up to us again, Everyone remain where you are, and hold on tight. I need to make an emergency call to the park manager and the maintenance team.

Everybody on the whole ship groaned.

Are you serious? Aurora muttered.

That’s when I saw the creature that would plague me for ages afterwards.

A little girl with silky blonde hair seemed to materialize right in front of me, on the side of the canoe. She had on a tattered yet oddly elegant dress that sparkled in the sunlight. Her skin looked so soft, and for some reason I reached out to try and touch her to see if she was real. But I couldn’t touch her. My hand went right through her translucent skin. She was still there, although it seemed like she was about to be whisked away by the evening breeze. Point your hand at the boat, she whispered. Then she disappeared in the blink of an eye. I didn’t see her walk away. The girl was just gone.

I was utterly dumbfounded but decided it would be best to try something at this point. So, I pointed my hand at the boat and focused all my energy on moving it back down. Piercing neon red light was coming out of the center of my hand and hitting the bottom-facing portion of the boat.

I screamed and started massaging my hand. Oh my God, Maggie, my hand!

What? she asked, examining it. I realized they hadn’t seen a beam of light just come right out my palm. I took some deep breaths and tried to stay calm. Then I went back to throwing my hand, red beam and all, at the boat, like the mysterious woman told me to.

After about a minute more, the canoe slowly made its way back down to the ground.

The canoe started to shake as everyone cheered.

Thank you for helping us, Maggie told the man in the uniform after we made our way off the ride.

Oh, it wasn’t me, the man said, stroking his frizzy beard. I was still waiting on maintenance to get here. He shrugged.

Okay, so how did it get fixed? Aurora asked him. I looked back and forth between him and my friends. I was afraid to say anything.

Mm, I don’t know…I’m just glad it went back to normal, the man in the uniform said.

Maggie and Aurora looked at each other and rolled their eyes.

That was beyond disturbing, I muttered to them as we wandered the park, looking for more down-to-earth ways to enjoy the festival.

Tell me about it, said Aurora, who was munching on some fried alligator bites as though she was going to murder them. My own appetite had basically died completely.

We came across a zydeco concert happening on the opposite, north end of the park and sat down in the cozy grass.

Around midnight that same night, Aurora dropped me off at my house. I tried my best to forget what had happened with the ghost-like girl and the beam of light from my hand moving a giant amusement park ride, but the more I tried to forget, the more it enlarged itself in the center of my mind.

I lived in a rather unimpressive one-story home in the middle of Gentilly. Aurora had to drive along a gravel driveway, underneath the interstate, to make it to my place. She parked right outside, gave me a hug, and let me walk myself in.

I noticed that the porch light was still on as I climbed several stairs, turned my key, and opened the door as quietly as I possibly could. It didn’t really matter how quiet I tried to be, because the old wooden door always creaked like an upset cat.

Paul, a surprisingly skinny man, was on the recliner drinking a beer. Several empty beer cans lined the plastic coffee table. My mom was still awake, barely. She looked up from the book she was reading and initially smiled at me with drooping eyes before frowning at Paul. She was wearing her favorite blue pajamas. A single lamp on a side table in between the two of them illuminated the room. I thought the way she was gripping her novel, entitled The Vampire Lestat, would tear it apart.

Can you please stop that for a second? my mother asked Paul.

Paul sighed and set down the bottle for a second. It was a bottle of Angelgator.

She looked at me, faking