NOLA (27 page)

“Paddleboat!” he said with excitement.  He pulled Mia to her feet.

She let herself be pulled towards the commotion, and sure enough, a steam-powered tour boat was moored, waiting for a few hundred tourists to board her.  Mia walked over and looked at the admission. The fee seemed fair. She almost asked for two tickets when she realized that Murphy didn’t need one.

Mia boarded the ship after having her picture taken in front of a ship’s wheel.  She looked around her, and aside from Murphy, she didn’t see any ghosts.  She found a spot at the front of the boat, and she sat down.  Murphy would wander the ship during the tour.  She wouldn’t be surprised if he was in the engine room right now.  Mia watched the scenery as the boat moved lazily around the Port of New Orleans.  She took in the energy of the river and wondered if Murphy was getting high from it.  Being on the water, for once, wouldn’t be draining.  Monique told her that there was a group of people who believed that the water that moved through this port was energized and special.

“Looks like river water to me.”

“Actually, it’s got a bit of Lake Pontchartrain in it too,” a familiar male voice said beside her.

Mia turned to see Judge Roumain, decked out in a white linen leisure suit and straw hat.  His black skin seemed to absorb the midafternoon light.

“What’s the matter? Cat got your tongue?”

“I was captivated by your suit.  Are you real, or am I talking to an empty chair?”

“Oh, I’m real enough.  Touch me if you have any doubts.”

Mia lifted an eyebrow and poked the entity. He actually winced.

“Not so hard, young woman, you’re wrinkling my suit.”

Mia turned back and looked out at the river.  “So what brings you here?”

“You.  I wanted to advise you.  You and your knight seemed to be busy taking in the town, so I decided to come to you.”

“Well that was kind of you.  Murph and I are taking in the scenery.  He’s off somewhere on the boat.”

“Have you seen the soul eater yet?”

“No, but I think I have the name of the culprit that started off this tragedy.  Sean Edwards.”

“Sean, I’ve had him on my radar for some time now.  He’s a rascal.  He likes to push the envelope.  Even as a wee boy he was testing himself, authority, and the laws of nature.”

“Do you think he has the knowledge to summon a soul eater?”

“No.  I think he may be its first sacrifice though.  He hasn’t shown up in purgatory, but I don’t feel him on earth either.”

“Could he have gone straight to hell?”

The judge smiled.  “Hell is not exactly what you think it is, Mia.  But no, I don’t sense him there either.  I agree with you that Sean Edwards is, as you say, the culprit.  I see you’re wearing a Gris Gris bag.”

“A gift from a worried grandmother,” Mia explained.

“May I?” he asked, holding out his elegant hand.

Mia untied the strings and handed the Gris Gris to the judge.

“This is very powerful.  The witch who made it has a firm connection to beings I haven’t had the pleasure in conversing with in a while.  I’ll be interested if this indeed brings you luck.”

“Oh no, it’s not for luck,” Mia said, retying the bag around her neck.  “It’s to save the day.”

“A bunch of herbs and magic is going to save the day?” he questioned.

“Yes.”

“Perhaps if you believe it will, then it won’t fail you.  I think though, don’t rely on it so much as your wits and strengths.”

“If I fail, do you have a plan B?” Mia asked as she watched a large ocean bound freighter pass them.

“There is talk, but, Mia, the help will come too late for this city.”

“Then you’d better advise me because I have a feeling that the soul eater and I are going to lock horns tonight.”

“The way the soul eater works is that it adopts the persona of the last soul it takes.  Let’s say, for example, that it took Stephen Murphy.  He would then be Stephen Murphy but not.  Could be, he wouldn’t have his axe or, perhaps, the glint in his eye would be different.  You will have to be vigilant.  It works very fast.  It is one of the most efficient killing machines that has ever been created.”

“Why does it exist in the first place?” Mia asked.

“Greed, hate and thirst for power are the impetus for bringing forth such evil things.  If you humans could learn to combat greed with sharing, hate with compassion, and, most importantly, understand that power is fleeting.”

“Power is fleeting…” Mia pondered.

Murphy cleared his voice.  “It’s like a gunslinger bragging he shot and killed the fastest draw in the west, and then he is killed by someone wanting the reputation of killing the man who shot the fastest draw in the west.”

“Yes, most excellent.  Hello, Mr. Murphy, are you enjoying your short time in N’awlins?”

Murphy nodded.  “Fine city, lots of energy, and…”

“A good appreciation for the dead.  Tell me, have you visited a graveyard yet?”

Both Mia and Murphy shook their heads.

“Do so before you leave.  You’ll find the ovens most interesting.  I won’t spoil it for you, but I’d be interested in what your reactions are.”

“Any last words?”

“Don’t bring Ralph.  This is beyond him.  He will be scarred for life, if he survives.”

“What about Father Peter?”

“You can trust him, but he too will be scarred.  His dogma will take a few hits, but he will survive if you survive.  Mia, this may be our last meeting.”

“Have more faith in me, Roumain.  I can surprise you.”

“I hope so, my dear, I hope so.”

He got up and said, “I’m going to have me one of those Bloody Marys before I go.  They make them very spicy here.”

“Careful, don’t spill it on your new suit,” Mia cautioned.

He turned for a moment and looked deep into Mia’s eyes before replying, “I’ll be careful if you will.”

“Deal,” Mia said, not blinking.  She held her stare until the judge looked away.

Murphy moved between Mia and the judge.  She smiled at him.  “Did you find the engine room?”

“Yes!  Come,” he said.

Mia followed him, pushing away the fear.  She needed to stay positive.  She was going to find the soul eater and shut him down tonight.  In the meantime, she would enjoy the company of Stephen Murphy in the Big Easy.

~

Father Peter sat in quiet reflection.  He had gone to confession and taken the holy supper.  He considered the choices he had made in his life and, also, how the Lord had called and guided him.  Never had he lost faith in his calling.  Sure, he had suffered some disappointments, and his life’s path had been altered, but he never lost the feeling of satisfaction for saving a lost soul and directing them to the higher power.  Now he was being called to do the
near
impossible, to stop a soul eater from taking the souls of N’awlin’s dead and, soon, the living.  His only weapons were his faith and a little woman from the north and her faithful companion.  Together they must defeat this devil from the dark world.  If not, he vowed he would die trying.

~

“What do you mean I’m not going?” Ralph asked.  “I promised your husband to look out for you, and I’m not going back on my promise.”

Mia caught hold of one of the flailing arms and directed her godfather to a chair and sat him down.  “Listen to me.  I need you here.  I need to direct all my attention to this thing.  How can I focus if I know there is the slightest chance that Brian is going to be left alone with only Ted to guide him?  What about the arts?  What about all the things you can teach him for me?”

“You make a good point.  I don’t have the slightest idea how to combat a paranormal entity.  And you do have Murphy.  Alright, I’ll stay.”

“Now you need to listen to me.  If I don’t come back by dawn, you need to leave this city posthaste.  And prepare to take my family to safety if this thing moves north.”

“I don’t want you to do this, Mia, but I know you’re going to do it anyway.  So I’ll give you all my inner strength.”

“Thank you, Ralph.  Once again you’ve come through for me.  How lucky I am to have you in my life.  You’ve taught me to fight and not simply accept my lot in life.  You’re an inspiration.  Don’t worry, I think I’ll be around to explain to Ted why I’m taking down the poster of Boba Fett and replacing him with a tree.”

Ralph smiled.  “Don’t worry, I’ll back you up with Ted.  For the soul eater, you have Murphy and the priest, heaven help you all.”

~

Mia walked along in the crowd of revelers.  Evidently, it wasn’t unusual for sporadic post- Mardi Gras parties to pop up here and there along the famous street.  Most visitors were primed from the midmorning’s Bloody Marys to the afternoon’s Gin and Tonics to the evening’s whatever passes the lips.  The fragrance of Bourbon Street was sweat and booze.  Mia did get a whiff of weed from time to time.  The air of no care had permeated all who served the weary travelers tonight.

Mia wore a non-descript hoodie and a cat mask.  No one did a double take upon seeing her.  Mia’s reasons for the mask had nothing to do with fashion.  She didn’t want to have her last photos be of a woman breaking into a respectable museum.  Father Peter had suggested it.  He knew that the street was filled with security cameras.  He, too, didn’t want to be identified.  He warned her that he, also, would be dressed differently.

Murphy came as he was.  If a camera did happen to pick up his image, no one would believe that N’awlin’s finest let an axe-carrying farmer walk down the middle of the street unchallenged.

“This thing,” Mia started, “can take the form of either of us once it has bested us.  We need a code word or phrase that only we two know.”

Murphy nodded and said, “Whitney Pee Pants.”

Mia stopped in her tracks.  “I was thinking the same thing!  I wonder what happened to him?  I haven’t heard or seen him since he left for his FBI gig.”

“I saw him once,” Murphy confessed.  “He was standing in the woods, looking at the farmhouse.  You were taking Brian out for a quick breath of fresh air.  Ted joined you. Whitney turned around and left.”

“You could have told me.”

“I’m telling you now.”

“Anything else I should know?” Mia asked.

“Tom’s mother wants Sabine to be her daughter-in-law.”

“Really, well if that don’t beat all.  I suppose Tom and Sabine haven’t a clue what Susan is up to.”

“Nope.  Runaway train.”

Mia laughed.  “I thought you and Sabine…”

“No,” he said firmly.

“Okay, don’t get grouchy.  I have to admit to being a little jealous.”

Murphy pushed his hat back.  “You are unbelievable.”

“Actually, I thought I was amazing.  You’re enjoying this energy, aren’t you?” she accused.

“Yes, ma’am.  I feel kind of dizzy.”

“High, the word is high.”

“I feel high.”

They had reached the corner and crossed the street to where Father Peter was dressed in a black hoodie, New Orleans Saints sweats and expensive kicks.  His gold cross fell across his black tee.

Mia zipped up his hoodie.  “Careful, Father, the bling is attracting the wrong sort of people,” she warned.

“I’ve been mistaken for a dealer twice on my way here,” he complained.

“I can only imagine the confusion when the buyer looked in the bag and found Christ’s body instead of bud.”

“You, child, are asking for it,” Father Peter said.  “Follow me.  I have a back door key.  There will be cameras, but we’ll have to chance that.  Oh, and an alarm.”

“Gee, I forgot about that.”

“It seems, Mr. Dun has a bad memory because he wrote the code on the key.”

“You can’t be serious,” Mia said.

“Believe me, when I prayed for help and the keys fell out of my pocket, I thought a miracle had happened.  But there it was, four little numbers on the label.”

Mia watched the alley while the priest opened the door and disarmed the alarm.  He waved Mia and Murphy in.

As he shut the door and locked it, Father Peter prayed silently for forgiveness and for help.

Chapter Twenty

Honor sat at the big round table in the dimly lit kitchen. To her right was Miss Ruby, her left Monique.  Becky and Candy sat on the other side of the table.  There was a single, lit, white candle in the middle of the table.

“I’ve asked you to come here to support Mia and Father Peter on their quest,” Honor started.  “Tonight, they will need our support.  Let us bring forth clarity, so that they will be able to see beyond the masks.  Let’s bring forth trust, so that each’s word is not taken lightly but into the heart.  And finally, let’s envelope Mia’s spirit, Stephen Murphy, with our love, so he will be stronger than strong, mightier than might, and braver than brave.”

The women around the table stared into the flame of the candle, each searching for their governing entity amongst the orange and amber.

“
Into the flame our wishes are fed
,” droned Miss Molly. 
“Surround our knights with blue and red.  Blue for secrecy.  Red for fight.  Let them not to be touched by evil tonight.”

Becky reached up into the air and seemed to grab something the others could not see.  She opened her palm and laid it on the table.  It was a shell.  “It has begun.”

~

Mia took a look around.  They had entered into an area that was not part of the tour.  “I don’t know where we are,” she said.

“It’s a back delivery room.  I’m sure once we get out of here, we will be able to find our bearings,” Father Peter said.

Murphy, who had found the exit to the room, glowed green to light the way.

“This way, I believe,” Mia said.  “Thanks, Murph.”

The museum tonight felt stuffy.  The air-conditioned air was cool but stagnant.  Their footsteps made little sound as they moved in between roped-off rooms.  The slightest breeze would have helped the feeling of dread, but they weren’t allowed even this in the closed down building.

In the darkened bedchamber, a gurgling of water pierced the silence.  A ghostly figure of a young woman wearing a cranberry-colored, sequin mini dress rose out of the bowl.  She rolled her neck and flexed her fingers.  She smiled, thinking of how easy it had been to trap this body.  Drunken girls were silly, and drunken spirits were stupid. They both threw caution to the wind.  This young spirit was trapped by simply leaving a trail of champagne bottles.