: Present Day New Orleans
The mood inside the DuPlessis/Dufour mansion is tense. Petunia Dufour stands in solemn judgement, her bejeweled cane directly before her like a fanciful gavel. Behind her, at the ready stands her faithful Manoir, watching the strangers with quick, cold eyes. Before them, Bitsie DuPlessis stands as the representative of her group, explaining what has happened, and why. Behind her, Schramm, Stavros Phistemopheles, his fiance Amanda Napolitano, and his aunt Philomena Phistemopheles watch and listen. Bitsie pours out their experiences with Oskar Hammar several years ago, and what he has done now that has completely changed the reality of the world around them…except inside this house. After an hour of explaining, Bitsie finally concludes.
“What you are seeing here, right now in this room; this is our reality. You are standing in my home, my mansion. Ripped from our reality, or timeline, or whatever you want to call it--dropped here in your time. We have to fix what he has done and put the world back to rights.”
Petunia stares evenly at Bitsie as she takes a long breath. Her eyes land upon the necklaces they are all wearing.
“Where did you get those necklaces?” she asks pointedly.
Bitsie is about to answer when Phil steps past Bitsie and says,
“Ask your thief.”
Petunia’s eyes dart to Philomena with a fire that belies her advanced years.
“What did you say?”
“Ask your thief where we got them, Mrs. Dufour,” Philomena replies, staring directly at Manoir. “Your manservant with the…interesting abilities. Your thief--”
“--How dare you!” Petunia seethes, rapping her cane on the stone floor. Philomena, who has been keeping remarkably still during the entire procedure releases some of her own interesting abilities, causing the fixtures in the room to rattle. Then, things get even weirder. Manoir suddenly materializes in front of Petunia--
“--whut?” exclaim Stavros and Amanda in unison--
--Schramm appears in front of Philomena. Then, just as quickly, the men disappear and reappear beneath the mirror over the fireplace--
--”Whoa!” Amanda and Stavros gush--
--They face one another, seemingly ready for battle. But, their faces are calm, almost serene. Schramm stares at Manoir, and reaches into the mirror, just as Philomena had done before the time shift. He withdraws his arm, his hand empty as the others watch. Manoir turns and walks back to Petunia. With his back to the rest, he faces Petunia in silence. Her brow crinkles, then relaxes into something like acceptance. Manoir returns to his place behind her. Schramm does the same behind Bitsie. For a long moment, the women stare at one another. Petunia finally speaks.
“For now, I…” Here, she takes a side glance back to Manoir. “I have no other choice but to believe your fantastical tale.” She raises her perfectly manicured hand, which is instantly filled by Manoir with her cocktail of choice: a chilled flute of champagne and--
“Muscadine,” Bitsie says aloud, catching a whiff of her Miz Tunie’s favorite adult beverage. Noticing the surprise on Petunia’s face, she smiles wistfully and says with all of her Kentuckiana charm,
“I am happy to report Miz Tu--er, Mrs. Dufour, that some things have not changed. Your counterpart--our Miz Tunie.” She pauses and swallows the weight of what she’s saying back down inside her. “She was also fond of her muscadine wine. I once brought her a case of the stuff. She loved-loves it.”
Petunia stares at her for a moment that suggests her guard is slightly lowered, then imperiously surveys the room once more, settling in again on Bitsie.
“Come to the office. We have things to discuss.”
Philomena begins to follow when Petunia turns and strikes the stones in front of her like a rifle shot, stopping Phil in her tracks. Petunia stares daggers at her.
“Not you!” She walks right up to Philomena until they are eye to eye, her cane gripped in her right hand like a club. Her formerly proper speech was gone, replaced with the New Orleanian tones they knew from Miz Tunie. “I can smell the sulfur comin’ off your old hide.”
She looks Philomena directly in the eye as she leans in close and whispers,
“Mebbe I get Manoir to gather up some red brick dust and salt, just in case. Or, mebbe…”
She raises the cane in her hand between them. The handle is oval, and red. Brick red. Philomena’s face is blank. Petunia smirks a bit and says clearly,
“Maybe I’ve already done that.” Her stentorian diction returned, she knocks back her muscadine spritzer and puts the empty flute into Phil’s hand. Philomena remains motionless as Petunia backs away, then turns and walks away, leaving the late unpleasantness in her wake. She makes her way towards the stairs.
“Mrs. DuPlessis, please join me upstairs in the office. Manoir, see to rooms for our guests,” She turns and waves in Philomena’s direction. “And, that.” Heading up the stairs behind her, Bitsie's face is all smiles. As they leave the living room, the others hear her ask,
“Mrs. Dufour, can you teach me how to do that?”
The sound of footsteps fades away, leaving the rest of them on their own. Amanda and Stavros hold each other close as Manoir straightens himself and instructs them to follow him. As he passes Philomena, he stops and looks her in the eyes.
“I am not a thief. You can’t steal what’s been abandoned for anyone to take.” He walks past her, waving for the others to follow. Amanda and Stav walk out, followed by Schramm, who stops before leaving. Philomena is still as a statue, not moving, blinking. Breathing. He looks towards the stairs towards the office once more before following his replacement to the bedrooms…
Left on her own, she glances down at the empty flute in her hand. Gracefully, she sets the glass down onto the coffee table. She turns and walks towards the mirror. She gazes at her own reflection, her hand gently tracing the outline of her necklace. A small smile grows across her face…This is My New Orleans.
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