Sugar Doll's Hurricane Blues (12 page)

BOOK: Sugar Doll's Hurricane Blues
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“Naw man, c’mon now!” the other young boy exclaimed. Elise stopped to look at the game. “Ya’ll both cheat!” She giggled flirting. The boys looked up playfully. One was a deep brown complexion. He smiled beautifully at Elise.

“You want to play?” He asked.

“No I don’t play with strangers.” Elise stopped flattered by the offer.

“My name’s Tommy, what’s yours and your friend’s?” He cast longing eyes up at Sugar Doll. Elise understood the look and her smile immediately faded.

“I’m Elise, her name is Sugar Doll.” Her giggling gone she stepped to the side almost pushing Sugar Doll in front of her large body as though she wanted to hide.

“Well hello Sugar Doll!” Tommy exclaimed in a growling voice. His friend stood up by his side.

“I’m Bobby Joe” the darker skinned boy stammered. They both were about 15 years old more or less. Little boys in her eyes but then she did look young for twenty-one.

Sugar Doll smiled at them but turned to Elise, “Listen, I’ve got to go, my mother’s place is in the French Quarters. I think I’ll ride the storm out there.”

Elise immediately brightened. “Okay” she turned toward the boys to continue their conversation but their smiles had turned into concern.

“C’mon girl” Tommy said exasperated. “It’s dangerous out there, that storm ain’t no joke.” Bobby Joe chimed in also expressing concern. They looked at each other amazed that they’d spoken in unison. They returned their attention to Sugar Doll not giving in to their usual high fives or joking.

“If she want to go, let her go.” Elise spoke up defensively.

“Damn girl, I thought she was your friend! A hurricane ain’t nothing to play with!” Tommy exclaimed.

Elise cringed, “My name is Elise!” She looked as though she were going to cry. Patrice arrived walking up the stairs. “What’s taking ya’ll so damned long? I’m trying to save us a spot.”

“Sugar Doll wants to go back to the Quarters,” Elise spat out. Sugar Doll began descending the stairs calmly. Patrice grabbed her arm, “Girl you crazy, you saw the weather out there. It’s probably gotten worse.”

“I’ll be all right.” Sugar Doll said feeling a bit unsure of her resolve but more determined to go than ever. She needed to see Remy, to hold him. She opened her cell phone and rang him.

“This is Remy, leave a message dahling.” His heavy drawl crawled through the phone and touched her. She could feel his kiss on her lips. “Remy, I’m at the Superdome; I want to come to Mona’s to ride out the hurricane. Call me when you get this message. Oh and break a leg!” Sugar Doll hung up and tried to smile but she looked up at the ceiling and saw rain dripping through the roof.

As she continued to descend she felt a warm hand grab her shoulder, “Girl don’t go out there. It could be dangerous too. The city is emptying out and all that’s left is the worst sorts of
people who are looking to rob and steal and who knows what all else?”

Tommy pleaded with Sugar Doll. “If you were my sister I wouldn’t let you go.” Tommy’s eyes were kind.

She turned full around to see a repentant Elise, Patrice, Tommy and Bobby Joe all looking like a makeshift choir. It made her smile.

“I’ll be all right; my boyfriend is in the Quarter. He is going to meet me.” She waved goodbye and trotted off leaving the choir of friends staring helplessly after her.

As she waded through the mass of humanity who were all vying to get a place in the stadium she felt that she had made the right decision. Something wasn’t right. People seemed too desperate and too unprepared. As she stepped under the awning of the dome the force of the rain hit her. It was strong but she was determined. She spotted an old tarp that looked like it had been blown against the building. She grabbed it and wrapped it around her entire body. She took off the belt on her jeans and wrapped it around her waist and felt pleased with her ingenuity. “Mother necessity where would we be?” She sang the tune from an old cartoon. “Well here goes,” she thought as she stepped into the strong wind. The water was up to her knee caps now and she felt afraid but certain that the hurricane had not hit ground yet. She had time, time to see Remy.

Chapter Eleven

 

Bertrand loaded his gun. It felt unusual in his hands. He had only purchased it for protection against robbers. “Now here I am the robber,” he thought to himself. He looked down at the ski mask and thought how stupid it was to go shopping for an item like this in the hottest city on the planet. He had suggested simple pantyhose but Kevin had reasoned with him that these were easy to see through. What would his father the deacon think? “Son, thieving and robbing and lying and cheating all in the same category with God. Don’t even think about killing. Never point a gun at a man if you don’t intend to use it because if you miss or threaten he’s coming for you.” That’s all his father had told him about a life of crime. Up till now he’d avoided it. Gambling wasn’t crime as far as he was concerned but then the debt kept growing. He was a big man and hiding out wasn’t an option. “I just don’t want to lose my bar. I’m sorry daddy.” Bertrand whispered to himself like a prayer. He loaded the gun and walked to the garage. He rationalized that his father didn’t agree with his lifestyle anyway. He wanted him to work in a church. “A fool’s game,” Bertrand sighed aloud. A cold trickle of sweat rolled down his back. A scripture came to him, “The fool says in his mind there is no
God.” He would have considered it an omen but decided that it was just his Baptist mind going wild with thoughts of sin.

Kevin waited in the car. The fresh smell of French fries wafted up from the window. Kevin sat there munching. He handed up a bag of Burger King to Bertrand. “Eat like a king brother because tonight we are going to be rich.” Bertrand grabbed the bag and then opened the door. He slid in easily onto the soft leather interior of his Lincoln Continental.

“Hey man, you ready for tonight?” Kevin asked between bites. Bertrand looked down at the bag. He didn’t feel like a King. “Come on man, eat. We need to go over the plan again. I know your big ass is hungry.” Bertrand agreed and opened the bag and looked disappointedly at Kevin.

“What’s wrong? A Whopper, right, extra cheese?” Kevin asked.

“I’m a big man, I meant two of those.” Bertrand said.

“When you mean two, then you say two.” Kevin opened his whooper and began casually eating it.

“All right man, so what’s the plan?” Bertrand asked munching his fries.

“The plan is still the same. You go into that back hallway. I’ll follow you then we walk in and bust up the game. We hold Marsalas hostage so to speak and his boys. Then we get the money.” Kevin and Bertrand clinked fists like a toast.

“It’s so simple man. No one would ever think to rob the robber.” Bertrand chuckled.

“Yeah like Robin Hood, ‘cept we is keeping the money.” Kevin laughed.

Bertrand thought about tonight and he felt a moment of dread. He began to sweat again. “Kevin, what if we get caught?” he asked.

“We ain’t gonna get caught. We are going to catch them off guard. As far as they know with this hurricane nobody is even thinking about them.”

Bertrand smiled slightly reassured as he heard the pounding rain outside. He felt scared but all of his thoughts of God and goodness disappeared like the wind.

 

Sugar Doll began to see the wisdom of her friend’s words. As she struggled against the wind it was a constant battle to make it across the street. She saw people running haphazardly to and fro. She alone looked like she had a direction, a focus. She thought of a song Remy sang to her one night. She imagined his face and was even more determined to press onward. The pelts of the rain fell steadily like bullets. They showered down on her. As she passed the Riverwalk she looked between the buildings and saw the waves crashing up against the banks. It was scary to see it. The rain felt cold and she shivered and began to run in earnest. There were smatterings of people headed in the opposite direction but no signs telling her that she was going the wrong way. She approached St. Peter’s street. As she looked down the long Tchopotulis Avenue she saw hundreds of cars bumper to bumper, headed for the Mississippi River Bridge which was right up over her head. She looked up into the big droplets of rain and saw the cars cramming so close to each other that they looked like one giant organism.

This rush to leave was commonplace in lower Plaquemines Parish where just the slightest tropical storm could send hordes of trailer park dwellers packing due to intense flooding. This, however, never occurred in New Orleans Proper which was so
famous that even God had stopped his mighty winds and flooding for 40 years. The city was where people usually ran to have hurricane parties and such.

A sign flew past Sugar Doll. Its metal yellow corners hit the side of a brick building and took a chunk off with it. “That could have been my face.” Sugar Doll thought absently touching her face to make sure that it was still there. For the first time Sugar Doll felt real fear. She ran faster, picking up the pace. She heated up under the makeshift tarp she had wrapped around her waist. The French Quarters lay ahead as she turned past St. Louis cathedral and shot down Royal. She saw two news trucks. The reporters were there in front of their cameras. They stood almost side by side even though the trucks identified two separate news agencies.

“Officials are saying, “Get out of town. This is not the storm to try to ride out people. You must leave now. People who insist on remaining are only placing themselves in danger.” News reporter Jana Carlsbad wrapped up her broadcast.

“What the hell are we still doing here then?” She quipped to her cameraman Buddy who was turning off the equipment.

“Honey, we are making news.” He joked back and gave her a wink.

“Where to next”? Jana asked.

“Well, we definitely need to get to higher ground, but I’m not a native. I think that St. Charles Avenue should be a good vantage point.” The cameraman said distracted as he buckled his leather carrying case to secure his expensive camera.

“Shouldn’t we go to the waterfront? Jana disagreed.

“We can capture the waves jumping up on the shore.” She suggested.

“Everybody will be doing that.” Buddy shrugged sarcastically.

“We’ll find an empty spot. Perhaps across the river by Algiers. We can get the poor person’s perspective.” Jana smiled encouragingly. She headed for the truck.

“Who wants that?” Buddy asked.

“America.” Jana yelled over her shoulder before she got into the car. “America.”

Sugar Doll trotted past the news van without any questions or the usual interest that people normally display. Jana noticed the girl and automatically her reporter’s mind began working. The girl was beautiful and young. She cut an intriguing figure running so alone in hurricane weather. “Where was she going? Would she survive the storm? Who was waiting for her?” These questions would remain with Jana for a lifetime. She just didn’t know it in that moment. She thought of getting a photo of the girl but it was too late and too wet. Jana climbed into the truck, she had work to do.

Bertrand strapped himself in for the ride of his life. The rain was coming down harder now. Visibility on the road was very low. There were many cars coming from the opposite direction. Many people were trying to get out of town and here they were trying to get into the city. They were trying to get into mischief. Kevin seemed unconcerned about the mass exodus they were witnessing. The bridge over Lake Ponchartrain, which seemed sturdy but the water below was choppy and waves lapped at the bridge. It was a long stretch between Baton Rouge and New Orleans.

“Hey man, I can swim good and all but I’m scared I won’t be able to fight off these waves.” Bertrand said nervously.

“Don’t look at the water. Just keep your eyes straight ahead. That’s what I’m doing.” Kevin said reassuringly.

“Man we are surrounded by water. How can you act like you don’t see it?” Bertrand began to sweat.

“Calm down man, are we going to do this or not? We ain’t got time for you to be freaking out now. We are an hour away from easy money.” Kevin smiled at him.

“Ain’t no such thing as easy money.” Bertrand countered.

“Are you changing your mind man? I could have let someone else in on this but I chose your big ass because you in trouble. Look we get in and we get out and we spend the money. We ain’t robbing a bank. We robbing a gangster. They ain’t gonna report it to the police. They ain’t gonna do nothing but give us that money.” Kevin adjusted his cap.

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