2 - FOLKLORE: He’s Just A Kid; She’s just a Witch in this Folklore

What if you were born with a destiny intertwined with mystery and folklore? Join us as we unravel the captivating life of Dr. Apples, a figure steeped in eerie rituals and enigmatic traditions. Born on Halloween in 1928, each year Dr. Apples receives a doll that eerily resembles his mother—a collection that now stands at 74. Hear from his loyal assistant tasked with safeguarding these haunting figures, and discover the profound emotional toll these yearly arrivals take on Dr. Apples.
 
 Travel back with us to Dr. Apples' childhood in New Orleans, where his stylish and mysterious mother, Miss Lissette Barule, shaped his formative years. From his initial distaste for his first suit to the tender moments shared with his mother, we delve into heartfelt anecdotes and vivid descriptions that peel back the layers of his misunderstood personality. This episode is a fascinating exploration into the lesser-known facets of Dr. Apples, promising to intrigue and captivate as we uncover the origins of his mystique.

Transcript

2 - FOLKLORE: He’s Just A Kid; She’s just a Witch in this Folklore

#DrApples
INTRO

[00:00:06.18] - Dr. Apples

Hey, welcome. The podcast version of The Mystical fantasy folklore about me, Dr. Apples. That's right, me.

[00:00:18.19] - Lacie

What are you doing?

[00:00:20.17] - Dr. Apples

I'm podcasting.

[00:00:22.14] - Lacie

No, you're not.

[00:00:23.01] - Dr. Apples

Yes.

[00:00:24.34] - Lacie

No, you're not.

[00:00:25.26] - Dr. Apples

Yes.

[00:00:26.59] - Lacie

No.

[00:00:27.57] - Dr. Apples

Yes.

[00:00:29.06] - Lacie

No.

[00:00:29.14] - Dr. Apples

Yes.

[00:00:29.19] - Lacie

No, you are not.

[00:00:29.47] - Dr. Apples

Haha, ohh. Yes, I am.

[00:00:29.53] - Lacie

No.

[00:00:29.56] - Dr. Apples

Yes.

[00:00:31.16] - Lacie

No. You're not.

[00:00:32.31] - Dr. Apples

Oh, yes, I am.

[00:00:34.06] - Lacie

No. No. Give it. You give it. Give it. Give it to me.

[00:00:41.11] - Dr. Apples

Uhh, fine, you podcast then I'll go check on my cold pressed juice.

[00:00:47.31] - Lacie

Enjoy the show.

STORY

[00:00:54.48] - Lacie

Each year around his birthday, Dr. Apples is presented a doll. The style of the doll and pillow tends to change, but they all resemble his mother and have her essence. Seventy four dolls later, still no mother. I am now responsible for the safekeeping of them. An assistant's job is never done. I don't know if or how often he looks at them, but they are truly a beautiful collection of figures. They all have different styles, and I assume they represent a part of his mother's personality. But I don't dare to ask. Oh, those days before his birthday are the days I love.

[00:01:37.49] - Dr. Apples

This is beyond reprehensible. I get clue after clue and these damn things keep showing up. Now my powers are weakening whenever I project. Every time I feel so close, I'm further away.

[00:01:54.49] - Lacie

Of course, a new doll appears. There's no use of trying to film it or staying awake. The doll simply appears somewhere around him when no one is around. This is a time when Dr. Apples is at his most sadistic. I don't even order birthday cake anymore. Jeez. And I think the gray hairs are getting to him, too. Now, let me explain a bit about how Dr. Apples got to this point. He wasn't always this crazy. Many assume negative things about him. He's a villain, grouchy, egotistical, cheap, vain, pretentious, blah, blah, blah. Yes, yes, yes, he's all of these. But it doesn't mean his knowledge is incorrect. You have to understand the fundamentals of the character to root for them. So let's start when he was a lad. Now, allow me to elucidate while I insert some alliteration when necessary, while I'll educate.

[00:02:55.01] - Lacie

Born in New Orleans, Louisiana, on October 31st, 1928, Dr. Apples was an observant, stoic, yet happy lad. He enjoyed being an adventuresome child. His fondest memories involved him playing with wooden trains, napping while his mother made potions, and playing with his pet piggy bank. He never outgrew the piggy bag thing. He was raised by his mother and wasn't acquainted with his father for reasons understood by all parties.

[00:03:24.42] - Lacie

Although intriguing is not the basis for this tale. Rumors went around about how he was some demon or voodoo sorcerer, as the locals called it. The stories vary from person to person. People were afraid to bring up the topic for fear that his father might come and get them. They were simple like that back then. Forgive him. The Black folks there may have been manumitted physically, but not mentally. Plus, bring his Daddy up and it gets back to his mama, Ms. Lassette BaRule, and that would mean you would no longer need her services. She was a stylish one, that of Ms. BaRule.

[00:04:03.28] - Lacie

 It was something which rubbed off on Dr. Apples, but not in the beginning. Brows bumped together in a scowl. His frown touched the earth. But those big brown eyes were so cute staring at his mother when he wore his first suit. He clenched his fist in distaste. She noticed and made no reaction to the pout. She kissed his heated forehead. Her touches were euphoric anointings from cherubs. 

[00:04:36.19] - Lacie

Her arm and skin naturally glowed. His face remained the same. 

[00:04:42.19] - French Language- Ms. BaRule

[00:04:45.19] - Lacie

She bent down and made direct eye contact with him. Her dark hair, soft as a baby's lamb, hit his face for a moment. She kissed his cheek.

[00:04:55.38] – Ms. BaRule

Monsieur Pom.

[00:04:57.31] - Lacie

He stare intensely trying to fight her joke.

[00:05:01.44] – Kid Dr. Apples

I'm not an old man, Mama.

[00:05:04.43] - Lacie

He thought.

[00:05:05.35] – Kid Dr. Apples

I do look old. I'm an old Apple.

[00:05:09.40] - Lacie

He cracked. Soon, her giggles became his giggles. Her laughter was peace to his soul. He never admitted it, but eventually he liked dressing up. Back then, he would demand to have his newsboys hat available when going out. And now I have to buy ascots each month online.

[00:05:31.44] - Lacie

His mother never cared what they thought. She was a beautiful, independent soul. It was something about those chocolate eyes you had to allow her into your soul to be able to observe the different hues within her irises. Her white smile complimented the joy she brought when you were near her. I can feel that from the dolls. With her supernatural abilities, she always had this deposition about her. She knew what was going to transpire before it happened. Because of this, it was difficult to get a rise from her. She was into hoodoo, not voodoo, and helping elder those who were open to consulting with her during her daily walks.

[00:06:11.43] - Lacie

That was a five mile walk within town with stops in between. She walked with a Belber leather Dr. Handbag that kept her potions. Expensive accessory, but she wasn't concerned. The locals ostracized her because she didn't talk like them.

[00:06:27.56] - Local

She don't talk like us.

[00:06:28.20] - Lacie

But still showed respect in her presence. Although she knew what they said about her behind her back, she was benefiting financially, charging the locals thrice the amount to heal, prevent and treat illnesses like smallpox, malaria, cholera, and other illnesses the local doctors can recognize. These were illnesses that were eradicated up north, but not down here. The doctors were palliative, but none as powerful as Ms. BaRule.

[00:06:57.06] - Local

Thank you so much.

[00:06:58.34] - Lacie

Her services were welcomed, but only discreetly.

[00:07:01.29] - Local

Thank you.

[00:07:01.46] - Lacie

They were never mentioned in public nor in church, yet many people kept their hoodoo dolls made by Ms. BaRule. These dolls would be a fix to the clothing which they would even wear in public. No one spoke about their protective gre gre , but chose to go about their everyday lives, ignoring where the sympathetic magic came from. Ms. BaRule was okay with this arrangement. The locals found her and Dr. Apples abstruse, so no one bothered to befriend them.

She enjoyed her privacy. He gave her time to write. Her heart craved to heal, and this was the place to spread her love. There were many young children she watched form from their mother's belly and grow around her. She felt their spirits and the potential love they could spread. They were innocent. She knew their fate was certain death if she moved away. So she stayed. Segregation was a norm, and even this community had doctors, but they were not as educated nor experienced as non-ethnic doctors.

Ms. BaRule stayed for the kids around her and her son. She knew New Orleans was a safe enough haven, and she had the reputation, resources, and connections here to raise Dr. Apples into a fine young man. His mother was fully aware he had supernatural gifts within him, but wanted him to be patient and let the gifts occur naturally.

Huh, patience from Dr. Apples. Oh, man. Now, that's a learning curve we're still working on today. Anywho, lying on the comfy sofa with bright, focused eyes, a 10-year-old Dr. Apples watched his mother conjure spells and create potions to heal the ignorant locals. He took in as much knowledge as possible I mean, maybe Dr. Apple should cave in. If so, what could he learn from them? Are the locals just misunderstood, ignorant, or are they secretly dangerous? 

OUTRO

[00:10:14.37] - Lacie

And that wraps up another fantastical tale with Dr. Apples.

[00:10:23.43] - Dr. Apples

But the journey continues. Click subscribe, and not only will you be substantially more intelligent, but you won't miss a thing.

[00:10:33.26] - Lacie

Visit drapples.com, where the magic never ends. See you in the next episode.

[00:10:39.55] - Dr. Apples

Don't forget to keep those apples crisp.