Tante Lulu was looking proud of herself in a pink suit and pumps and soft gray hair. Apparently, normal attire was to be her standard now that she’d gotten Luc married off. Maybe she had finally “found herself,” even as she’d found a bride for Luc. On the other hand, there was a hint of problems to come when she called Remy over and inquired sweetly, “How’s your hope chest, honey?”
Sylvie intended to return to work on her love-potion research at Terrebonne Pharmaceuticals after a short honeymoon at Luc’s bayou cabin. In fact, each place setting at the reception had a little paper cup of jelly beans. There were lots of jokes about being under the influence.
Luc had more legal business than he could handle these days because of the publicity over Cypress Oil and the love potion. He was trying his best not to turn too respectable at the command of his new wife. In line with that, he had added a line to the brass plate on his law office door which now read, “Lucien LeDeux, Attorney-at-Law, The Swamp Solicitor.”
Samson and Delilah were back together again, boinking away. Delilah had dropped four baby rats the month before. Their names were Eenie, Meanie, Miney, and Moe.
Reporters still continued to hound Luc and Sylvie, refusing to believe there was no love potion. In fact, today’s newspaper read: “Love Potion Wedding.”
The day was winding down now, and the bridal couple was dancing again… this time to a tune that was becoming popular with many Louisiana radio stations, “Cajun Knight.”
“Shall we leave soon, chère?” Luc drawled, nuzzling her neck. His bride was known to have a soft spot for his drawl. “I can’t wait for you to try on my wedding gift.” Luc had given her several sexy lingerie items with matching high heels, all in flame-red, of course.
“I’m ready when you are, Luc. Actually, I’m a little anxious for us to try out my gifts to you, as well.” She’d given him licorice whips and a Luther Vandross CD.
Shortly after that, as the groom whisked the bride off to their honeymoon, someone overheard Luc let loose a wild, whooping rebel yell and the famous Cajun expression “Laissez les bon temps rouler.”
And his bride was said to have agreed, “Let the good times roll.”
Author’s Letter
You gotta love a Cajun man.
I know, I know, I said the same thing about Vikings. But, really, in many ways they are similar.
The Acadians (from which the shortened mispronunciation of Cajuns stems) are a proud people who always manage to land on their feet and thrive, despite being exiled out of one country after another… first France, then Canada. The Vikings were always looking for a new homeland, too, but in their case they blended in to the countries they conquered. Fortunately, the Cajuns have managed to maintain their unique culture in Southern Louisiana.
The Acadians were natives of Nova Scotia, originally of French descent. They left Canada rather than live under English rule. In 1755 they were disbanded by the British, with women and children being separated from their men and sent in all directions. One distinct group finally settled in Southern Louisiana, where they called themselves Cajuns. Longfellow’s epic poem Evangeline tells their story so well.
If the Vikings were handsome devils with impressive height and long blond hair, you ought to see these Cajun men with their dark hair and dancing eyes. Ooh-la-la!
They have colorful first names like Valcour, Ambrose, and Remy, and surnames like Arcenaux, Doucet, Breaux, Fortier, and Guidry. Their lifestyle is based on good food, love of God and family, and a marvelous appreciation for joie de vivre or joy of life. Nowhere is their sense of humor more evident than in the titles they gave their beloved bayous: Bayou Go to Hell, Bayou Funny Louis, and Bayou Mouchoir de l’Ourse (handkerchief of a she-bear); or in the lyrics of their unique music; or in their most colorful language, which is a little bit Southern drawl, a dash of Cajun French, and a lot of unique, deliberate mispronunciations of words.
The Cajuns managed to flourish in the presumably unlivable swamplands of Louisiana, and not only survive but prosper. They built their homes on stilts and found ways to prepare dishes from the bayou’s plentiful game and fish… some of which the more uppity Creoles wouldn’t have touched till the Cajuns taught them how. There’s a Cajun saying. “If it moves, we cook it.” And cook it they do—crawfish, gumbo, blackened redfish, jambalaya. The spicier the better. No wonder they call Tabasco “Cajun Lightning.”