Chapter Text
December 31st, 1909
A classy bell could be heard from the downstairs kitchen, ringing throughout the house in it’s soft, singing rings.
”Alastor! It’s time to wake up! Your breakfast is gonna get cold!”
Groggily, the boy sat upright in his bed from his slumber, stretching his arms out above his head and yawning.
“Coming, Ma! Just give me a bit!” He called out to her.
Alastor looked around his room, subconsciously trying to fix his hair from his morning bed-head.
“Guess I should stop being a goop and start changing...”
With a sigh of resignation, Alastor hopped off his bed and sauntered to his dresser. As he selected his outfit, he had the nagging feeling of forgetting something about today. But what could it be...? His birthday? No, that isn’t until January...oh wait, it’s December 31st! That’s why his Mama was waking him up early, she and Pa wanted to bring him out for the New Years celebration! Alastor never really got out into the big city of New Orleans much, since his house was secluded in the forest nearby the bayou.
After putting on a white button-up shirt with brown slacks and suspenders, Alastor rushed downstairs happily, socks in hand and a bright smile on his face.
Ma had always told Alastor that his smile was a gift, that no matter what, he brought her joy by giving her a smile. His pearly whites and bright eyes would shine when he would grin, practically illuminating the room he was in. The innocence that would reflect off his face when he was in joy can spread quickly, putting anyone in a good mood by the mere sight of it. It was why Alastor loved smiling, it could make people feel better. That’s why, most of the time, Alastor would always be smiling. Unless the situation calls for a different expression, a smile was his default face. He never really felt complete without it. After all, Ma always said you’re never fully dressed without a smile.
“Alastor, baby, there you are!”
Snapping out of his thoughts, Alastor looked up to see his Mama, pinching his cheeks and cooing at him.
”What’s for breakfast, Ma?”
”Alastor! Is food all that’s on your mind? I thought I taught you better than that!” Alastor’s mother playfully scolded him.
Abigail Loretta Carlon, a creole woman with a heart of gold. She’s a petite gal with brown skin that made her look like light gingerbread. She had long, dark brown hair with a red tint and highlights and had light brown eyes that were gentle. She is a caring mother that has a soft, melodious voice made for singing to the birds. She also had a fire in her heart, despite being a gentle woman, she was stronger than steel.
“Sorry, Mama!” Alastor giggled, “Good morning!”
”Much better! Good morning to you too, my precious baby. We’re having omelets for breakfast so go ahead and eat, dear.”
As soon as his mother said that, Alastor sat down at the table and started his breakfast. “So, when are we leaving?” He asked, mouth still full of food. “We’ll start heading out as soon as your father finishes prepping the deer meat for tomorrow. Also, Alastor, don’t talk with your mouth full, please, you could choke.”
Alastor quickly swallowed, embarrassed, “Sorry, Ma!”
Abigail smiled to herself as she washed the dishes, happy to be raising such a sweet boy...even if it came with some problems...
”Good morning, Alastor! And good morning, Abigail!” Alastor’s father greeted cheerfully as he entered the house.
Markus Alan Carlon, a white man and big-shot in the hunting business. He was the playful kind, always cracking jokes and being easy-going. He had a strong and tall stature, messy, light brown hair, and dark brown eyes that almost appeared black. Markus was the eldest son of the Carlon family, who owned the hugest hunting business in New Orleans. He was definitely a function-over-fashion kind of guy, he was a higher class man but lived in a cabin in the woods. It’s not that the house looked poor, it was definitely a lot more polished and bigger than most log cabins, but compared to where he grew up, it wasn’t all that much.
But, that was the point, Markus and Loretta had to live secluded from the rest of the townsfolk in New Orleans. You see, with Markus being a white man and Loretta being colored, they weren’t quite “accepted” too well in the big city. They still lived in New Orleans, but, a bit more private than others. And of course, there was Alastor, a child of the two different races. You could tell he was their son, his hair was a mix of his parent’s, a chocolate brown with a reddish hue that had a small fringe which sat upright. He had big doe eyes that were a light brown. And of course, his skin color was a light tan, not too dark, but not exactly white, so it really depended on the person whether he could be considered a colored or white.
Alastor knew that people didn’t like him, and didn’t like his parents either, but, thanks to his Ma and Pa, he never really had to worry about that. They were alone, distant from the rest of society until an occasional shopping spree or holiday came up to prompt them outside.
”Good morning, Pa! Did you finish with the meat?” Alastor asked, practically bouncing in his chair.
“Sure thing, trooper! Maybe you should help me hunt next time and I could teach ya how to prep the meat!” Alastor’s father laughed out.
Alastor stuck out his tongue and shook his head. No way was he going to hurt a poor deer! Sure they tasted good, but he didn’t want to see the process on how to make them good for cooking! Also, Alastor doesn’t like blood, he remembers one time that his Dad brought in a buck’s head to show Alastor when he was 6, and he ran out of the room at the sight of the blood. Markus didn’t mean to scare his son, he just thought it was an impressive catch. Let’s just say Abigail had a few words to share with him after a crying Alastor came running to her.
Seeing Alastor’s reaction to his suggestion, Markus chuckled, “Nah, kid, don’t worry, I won’t be bringing you anytime soon. Maybe when you get older, after all, you won’t be 9 forever.”
”Are you ready to go, honey? Or do you need to change?” Abigail asked her husband as she dried her hands on the towel rack.
”Yeah, but don’t worry, I won’t be long.” He answered, giving his wife a peck on the cheek and walking upstairs.
Abigail turned to Alastor, “Dear, why don’t you put your shoes and jacket on while we wait for your father?”
”Okay, Ma!” Alastor yelped, running to the shoe closet and putting on his dress shoes after his socks, then grabbing his jacket and hat off the coat rack.
A few minutes later, Alastor and his mother wait for his father at the front door, idly chatting until his father comes downstairs to join them.
And once he did, the family went out for New Years.