THE FORTUNE SMELLER – A SWAMPLAND TALE OF SCENT AND SECRET
IN THE PIT’S BREATH, A SOUL REVEALED
Deep in the steaming bowels of the Louisiana bayou dwells a lonely enigma named Doris Lafitte. She’s gifted – maybe damned – with the world’s keenest nose.
In the small and twisted world of nearby Lake Charles, she’s known to locals as the “fortune smeller.”
For a modest fee she’ll take a whiff under your arm and give you the rundown:
Your star sign, last night’s dinner, prescriptions, the silhouette of your unspoken fears. Even the secret ailments chewing at your unsuspecting body’s foundation – all laid bare with a sniff.
Her infrequent visitors come out to the old stilt house in the swamp – a relic of her late mother. Traditional psychic Maux Lafitte – out there, far from the judging eyes of civilization, down where the muddy earth meets the water.
AN EYE FOR GREATNESS
Despite her isolation, news of this fortune smeller attracted the interest of Québécoise celebrity medium and columnist Madame Connerie.
Connerie is of course the renowned author of The Feline Zodiac, and her followup autobiography Private Reading. A salacious account of psychic readings she performed for such figures as Queen Elizabeth, Elvis Presley, Richard Nixon, and Nancy Reagan.
Her latest project is an as-of-yet untitled collection of encounters with unconventional mediums operating off the beaten trail.
The Madame detests frauds, and so enlisted Weekly World News‘s help in setting up a meeting to test Doris’s abilities in person.
To lend scientific rigor to the affair Connerie also reached out to Dr. Parni Gandha. A microbiology professor from Duke University specializing in human olfaction. Gandha is known for her work developing a bioelectric nose that mimics human and animal scent detection. To this end, she agreed to study Lafitte’s unique biology.
SWAMP VEGAS AND BEYOND
Many seekers of fortune from over the brackish Sabine in Texas. Where gambling is incidentally illegal, know Lake Charles Louisiana as Swamp Vegas.
Bedded in its heart lay two jeweled meccas: L’auberge, and the Golden Nugget Casino. Mardi Gras festivals, second only to The Big Easy in terms of exuberance, dazzle in their shadow.
This city on the lake’s other claim to fame is that it’s the most humid place in the USA. Typical summer mornings wear a head-pounding veil of 90% humidity that warps the boundaries of water and air, rendering thoughts into pliable brain taffy.
Our journey concluded at the height of summer. This report was stitched together afterward in the refuge of an air conditioned hotel suite, poring over sweat-dappled notes and retreading disparate events over the phone for days.
These scraps form a big picture so strange it could only be a WWN story.
Behold, dear reader, a tapestry most bizarre:
The fortune smeller – SWAMP VEGAS AND BEYOND
Bulging with the promise of revelations, a black WWN van driven by this reporter ferried our two counterbalanced experts along the banks of Lake Charles.
Beneath a fried egg sun we skirted petrochemical plants inverted by the lake’s sizzling pan.
We emerged from the fogged-out neon tangle of casinos and retail shops, and trundled toward green arteries of life marking the bayou’s outer margins.
Madame Connerie stared transfixed through the backseat window. “Doris Lafitte shuns the old ways, you know. No crystal ball, no tarot, no seance table. She just … follows her nose, haha! Delightfully simple. I’m quite anxious to study her methods.”
Dr. Gandha nodded. “Smell was the first sense to evolve on this planet, Madame. Bacterial prokaryotes to be specific, a few billion years ago when our world was a churning ocean. It’s the most primal form of perception.” She paused, drawing a breath of dry cabin air. “If anything, hers is the oldest way.”
Civilization shrank in the rearview. The manicured turf of Contraband Bayou Golf and Country Club turned shaggy and crowded with trees as we approached the wetland’s true edge. Inflamed thunderheads peaked through the canopy, threatening rain at any moment.
A sign by the water depicted a hissing alligator transposed on a golf ball. It read: Do you really need that ball? I gulped as the road slumped into a narrow path of dirt and gravel surrounded by looming cyprus and oak.
The fortune smeller – SWAMP VEGAS AND BEYOND
Several minutes passed in silence before a loud resonance, like the creaking of an ancient branch, echoed from Madame Connerie’s slackened mouth. Her head was tipped back, eyes flitting like trapped moths beneath their lids.
From our view she dozed like this, sometimes humming and mumbling in a language we couldn’t discern, for about twenty minutes until we found our journey impeded further down the road.
From the Madame’s perspective a vision played behind her quivering lids, a psychic’s dream thereafter relayed to me in great detail, and reproduced here for your consideration.
Though her dream may seem an odd diversion, you’ll find this narrative fork in the road a necessary detail in unpacking the uncomfortable convergence of truths to come.
Behold Madame Connerie’s Visions in The Fortune Smeller Part 2
NAVIGATE THE FORTUNE SMELLER: PART 1 // PART 2 // PART 3 // PART 4
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What a fascinating story! Doris Lafitte’s unique talent as the “fortune smeller” reminds me of the creativity found in games like Papa’s Pizzeria, where players craft delicious pizzas and indulge in whimsical quests. It’s intriguing how scent can unlock personal secrets—what a powerful narrative device! Can’t wait to see how Doris’s encounters unfold in part two. Have any of you tried predicting fortunes through other senses?
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