back in the life-style

Michelle had a look of quiet desperation that seemed to fit her like a silk chemise even though she was always dressed in some kind of “what ever I can pick up off the floor and doesn’t stink too much” style. Tattoos adorned her body from various vantage points and she was festooned with cherries and dragons and a bit Celtic art. Her black hair was dark as a raven out of a bottle of Miss Clairol. Her favorite hobby was drinking and every time she would climb on her old bike and head back home you were thankful that somewhere a guardian angel was watching her.


Michelle was always there for her friends in need unless she needed a fix. It was not that she was irresponsible she was lost in the fog of alcoholism that seemed to keep her safe in her own reality. Working as a bartender at Molly’s on Decateur Street she managed to keep her bills paid and even when broke another bartender at any bar up and down the street would always make sure her glass was full. Michelle had come from a good family and her education was always evident in her conversations. Michelle left town one day because of a death in the family. Rumor had it she had inherited some money and went into rehab and then back to school where she completed her college education.


It was a few years later when I heard about Michelle again. She had been drawn back to the Quarters again and was back in the life-style. All her inheritance spent she was now caught back into her addictions. While at a convenience store near her home in the 9th Ward Michelle was attacked as she came out after buying a pack of cigarettes by a crack junkie. A claw hammer tore off half her face. She tried to get the owners to let her call the police or get help. They rushed her out of the place. Crawling, bleeding and in extreme pain for a couple of blocks and she found a pay phone. The police arrived and took her to Charity Trauma Center.


The doctors did an amazing job. Her face was repaired and there was only a scar at the top of her head which could be covered by hair. However, the deeper scars of fear and desperation could not be healed by the doctors only by spirit. The attacker was free on the streets and was going to find more victims. Every corner she would turn she thought that she saw him only to face the illusion of recognition that her fear put on a face.


I was also traumatized and shocked by this news about Michelle. I went to a group that I belong to on the net that is populated by shamans and light workers. When I told them what had happened, there was an immediate rallying of allies to discover and bring the perpetrator to justice. Using the tools of the magic trade shape shifting astral jaguars and dragons began to comb the city of New Orleans.


Two days later I received a call.


The perpetrator had been found and arrested. He had been using the same m.o. (modus operandi) and quite a few other women had been attacked and ravaged like Michelle. The police caught him in the act and arrested him. Bringing pictures to the house, Michelle was able to select him from a gallery of photographs. He would no longer be attacking those who walked the streets of the Quarter.


But in the wake of Katrina when prisoners escaped and created havoc on the streets and those poor souls who could not evacuate, one has to wonder – is he free?