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The Magic of Aga Bab
- Louisiana State University Press
- Chapter
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(1908) The Magic of Aga Bab In 1908 a barber named Philip Dusa had a shop in Claiborne avenue. His living quarters were above the shop, and his wife did sewing to help out when business was slack. When the weather was warm, Mrs. Dusa frequently took her embroidery or hemming or quilt-piecing out onto the shady front gallery. Sometimes, when there was a rush of customers, the Dusas postponed supper until very late. On these occasions Mrs. Dusa sewed until it grew dark, and then went inside and lighted the gas. One evening in May, when the barber was kept later than usual, Mrs. Dusa laid her sewing aside and went out to sit on the gallery. She sat very close to the south end, so she could glance down through the railing and watch people passing. She could see almost to Gravier street, and often she would lean over and exchange a word of gossip with an acquaintance. It seemed, this night, unusually dark. Mrs. Dusa sniffed the light breeze, observing mentally that there would be rain before morning. The street grew very still. Not a horse, not a mule, not even a racing small boy. The darkness hung heavy as a velvet curtain. Something seemed to freeze the barber's wife and shut off her breath. From up the street, near Gravier, came a queer scraping sound, very faint, very distant. To her straining ears it was like a giant turtle hitching itself across a rough stone, its shell dragging with each clumsy step. And then, along the banquette, she saw a white Shape. It cleaved the darkness like a great wedge of moonlight, ploughing nearer and nearer the Dusa 135 136 Ghost Stories of Old New Orleans barber shop. As it approached, it swayed from side to side, plunging heavily about. Mrs. Dusa could hear it breathing in great gusts, like some monster from its Mesozoic wallow. When it came within a few yards of her, the half-light surrounding it showed what looked to be a white-sheeted man fully ten feet in height. As it swayed,she could see an enormous iron-gray head, with eyes shooting out on stalks like those of a snail. Four hairy arms waved like flails, with gigantic claws, yellow and scaly and dry, clutching the air. The legs were like stilts, with three knee-joints each, bending this way and that. As the Thing came even with the gallery, it leaned over and leered at her, stretching its wide, evil mouth in a terrifying grin. The glittering eyes poked themselves in between the spindles of the railing like adders, following her in a weird and sinuous weaving. A fluff of wind sent the white draperies of the Thing flapping over the gallery rail. The nauseating odor of fresh blood filled the air. With a bellow like that of a bull, the monster reached out a claw caked with filth. The claw tapped the gallery floor, like bones rattling against a tomb-side. Three more noisome claws followed, creeping like hungry crabs. The woman sat paralyzed, her hair rising stiffly from her cold scalp. Swiftly the claws rose, like menacing jaws, and flung a shower of small objects into her lap. The great head, with its loose swathings of white, again came close to the gallery rail, peering over it, grinning widely, the hooked nose sharp as a hatchet, the horrible eyes creeping and wriggling nearer and nearer. And all the time, the sickening smell of fresh blood grew heavier and yet more heavy. The claws touched the woman's ankles, stinging like bees, scorching like flames. They seemed to be stripping the flesh from her bones—tearing, scraping, ripping muscle and tendon, nerve and vein and ligament—clawing her to shreds, while she sat frozen and dumb and helpless. She closed her eyes an instant, expecting death to blind her and destroy her. When she opened them, the Thing was gone. She sat on her cool gallery, the palm leaves in front of the house rustling like paper, a breeze mewing from the river, the faint stars peeping out of the night sky. [44.192.132.66] Project MUSE (2024-03-28 12:25 GMT) The Magic of Aga Bab 137 With a smothered cry she fled into the house, lighting the gas with hands that shook so she could scarce get the match to a flame. That frightful Thing she had seen out there on the...