Mr. Octave Hollier (not the rice farmer, but spelled the same) contacted this reporter about some strange goings-on in the bayou.
“We were warming our chilled selves at the radio station when all of a sudden the tower lights started to flash blue,” Mr. Hollier said.
“Me and Robicheaux were frogging late last night, and when we got finished, we detoured by the old radio station. Sometimes we just ride that ferry all through the bayou, then we get off at the small dock and take the Missedabracket ferry back to town, but on cold nights it’s nice to go by the old radio station. I love that old radio station, I can feel it warming my liver when I’m still fifty feet away. And it’s safe, too—none of the snakes around there are alive.”
Mr. Hollier continued, “So we were there by the old radio station—no, I don’t know why we have a radio station. We don’t have an operator, or music, or nothing. That thing hasn’t broadcast in years, but I like how that whole area around the transmitter is nice and warm.
“Anyhow, it started to glow blue. I’ve been walking by that thing for years, and it’s never glowed blue before. The lights on top have always been red, except last night, when they were turning blue. So me and Robicheaux, we looked all around, and we didn’t see anything until Robicheaux pointed out the lights in the sky. And the humming got louder, and then that tower, she just disappeared.
“And then it came right back. And then it disappeared again. And came back. It started to speed up, and it was flickering faster and faster, and the lights in the sky were flashing at the same speed, and then they just sped away. We looked all around, but we never saw nobody, us.”
Mr. Hollier did not appear to be drinking. After he left the Tattler offices, he walked straight home.
Jack Mondieu, Ace Reporter, is a figment of your imagination.