Louis Santos watched the women from a distance as they danced in a clearing deep in Black Bayou outside Houma. As he hovered among the moss-laden cypress trees, he was mesmerized by the fire in the center of the circle. The flames jumped upward to lick the sky, scattering sparks into the breeze like thousands of fireflies. Louis"s heart beat faster as his feelings alternated between hypnotic attraction and a vague sense of threat.
The sound of drums that pounded in his ears were accompanied by lilting voices and cries of ecstasy. Young initiates in white cotton dresses, worn sandals, and twisted kerchiefs danced in a circle and cried out repeatedly as they communed with the spirits. Their voices, saturated with dank bayou air, lingered over the nearby swamp before disappearing into the ni
