Sugar Doll's Hurricane Blues (10 page)

Kevin leaned back on his chair musing about his friend’s problem. He considered himself a magician in terms of getting away with crime. “So let me get this straight, you gamble in Biloxi, lose all of your money and then you contact Marsalas’s camp for more money which you continue to lose”? Kevin asked

“Yeah and it’s compounding daily.” Bertrand said the sweat popping off of the side of his face.

“Man you are a trip”! Kevin exclaimed.

“Tell me something I don’t know.” Bertrand sighed.

“So now instead of repayment they are threatening to take over your club.” Kevin took a drink of his beer.

“Man, help me. Tell me what to do!”! Bertrand almost cried.

“I suppose not, gambling never occurred to you.” Kevin joked.

“Niggah I’m in trouble I’ll quit for sure. Bertrand cried.

“All right, all right. Let me think. Did they give you a deadline”? Kevin asked.

“Next Friday.”

“Damn!” Kevin stood up and circled his tiny room. The green paint was peeling and the once white ceiling was brown.

“All right, let me put my ear to the ground and find out how I can help you.” Kevin looked out of the window at the causeway bridge that ran past his home on its way to cross the Mississippi River.

Remy sat watching CNN; there was a storm in the Gulf of Mexico. The wooden faced anchorman’s blue eyes matched the color of his suit, “Hurricane Katrina promises to be a category five hurricane. Residents of lower Plaquemines Parish are being told to evacuate”. Remy sat bolt upright in his chair. “Sugar Doll” he whispered under his breath. Big Ma didn’t have a car. Bertrand had been their sole source of transportation and he hadn’t seen him in about five days. Remy picked up the phone only to get a recording, “We’re sorry all circuits are busy, please hang up the phone and try again later.” Remy hung up and hit speed dial only to get the same recording. Feeling unproductive he thought to himself, “It probably won’t hit anyway.” He couldn’t help feeling the knot in his stomach; he had a bad feeling about it.

He walked over to the window and peered out to see the usual view of the river and the trolley train. Even from this distance he could see that the water was choppy. Living on the third floor walkup of his tiny French Quarter apartment had
its advantages. He saw the New Orleans ferry boat moored at the dock rollicking with the waves but obviously out of service. The sky was purple and gray and the clouds were fat with rain. This was nothing new in the city. Instead of the Crescent City they should call it the rainy city.

Remy had two gigs tonight. One was scheduled at Beauchamp’s and the other at Mona’s. He needed the money. He needed a new car. He picked up the phone to hit redial but he got the same message so he hung up and decided to get dressed for his gig. He pulled out his favorite black suit but his mind kept going to Sugar Doll. “She’ll probably come to the French Quarter tonight. With all of their smooching he’d neglected to ask if she planned to come to town to perform. He knew that inviting her to Mona’s was a foolish proposition. He found it hard to believe that Mona was the mother of this sweet, delicate creature. Mona was as beautiful as her daughter but she had a cruel streak about her and she was all business, all the time.

Remy descended the steps of his third floor apartment. The sweet smell of mold and hundred years of decay reached his nostrils. In order to live in the Quarters one had to live with the fact that the buildings were incredibly antiquated. He reached the second landing and stopped. He felt inexplicably uneasy. He knew that there was a problem and he needed to be the one to solve it. He hurried down the rest of the steps at a faster clip taking two at a time.

He reached Mona’s at six o’clock and even with a heavy rain falling the French Quarters were packed with tourists and drunks. Some were walking out in the open while others stayed under the awnings of the businesses. A few fools were talking about throwing a hurricane party. He’d been to one
while he was in college. It was fun and no danger as the hurricane hit its favorite town Greenville, Texas. Remy worked his way through the crowd and turned right onto the Rue St. Peter. Mona’s loomed in the distance which was a stone’s throw from the red light district.

Mona’s clientele were always high class or mobsters. Some would say that they were one and the same. Politicians, celebrities and wealthy patrons hobnobbed at this high classed joint. The food was superb Louisiana cuisine. Remy needed the exposure and the extra cash. Tony had approached and even though he knew what the guy stood for the gig was double what he made at Beauchamp’s.

He opened his flip phone and tried Sugar Doll’s number and instead of a recording, he got a busy signal. He wished he would have talked to Bertrand or at least had Sugar Doll’s cell phone number. He searched his phone in vain hoping that he had actually put in the number but had forgotten. “No such luck” he sighed. “She may already be evacuating.” He thought hopefully. Even if the hurricane didn’t hit the lower end of the parish may endure heavy flooding. Remy walked into the crowded restaurant. This was surprising considering the fact that the hurricane warnings had been very stern. Tony waved him over to the bar.

The man was always well dressed. Tony always wore expensive suits made of silk or fine linen. He stood against the bar wearing a classy gray suit which was obviously tailored. His striking blue eyes flashed with wit and charm. “It’s hard to believe that this guy had ever been a gangster.” Remy thought to himself and he shook Tony’s hand.

“Hey Remy are you ready for tonight?” Tony asked smiling at the brisk business he saw before him. “Look at them,
even with a hurricane they come out and I’ve got to take their money.” Tony laughed. Remy laughed with him but wasn’t as amused as he pretended. Tony was a smooth guy and that made him hard to trust.

“I’m ready, but are they?” Remy responded and looked out at the crowd. “I’m gonna stir up a hurricane tonight yeah!” He said in his Cajun brogue.

“Good attitude son.” Tony said.

“How come ya’ll booked me for a swanky joint like this?” Tony asked.

“Well to be honest with you, we are trying to attract a younger audience and you are really popular with the young girls and they bring in the fellas, you know what I mean?” Tony winked and smiled. Remy shook his head in acknowledgement. His father always told him to never ever trust a man who said, “to be honest with you”, because that was the last thing that he was doing. Remy smiled at the memory of his father describing a polecat. His mind distracted by thoughts about Sugar Doll.

“Listen Tony, I’ve got a bad feeling about the hurricane. I’m friends with Sugar Doll and I can’t get in touch with her. Bertrand’s nowhere to be found and he is her usual ride. Do you know if Mona called her mother?” Remy looked hopefully at Tony.

Tony studied the handsome boy thoughtfully. “You are more than good friends with her, right?” Tony asked knowingly.

“Well yes, I mean no, I like her but that’s about the length of it.” Remy said.

“Wait right here my boy.” Tony went behind the bar and through a side door which opened out into their upstairs apartments. He walked into the lavender bedroom he shared with
Mona. She lay asleep on the bed. “Baby, Baby, wake up.” Tony nudged her gently.

“What?” Mona answered sleepily into her pillow.

“Have you checked on your mother?” Tony asked.

“Why?” Still half asleep Mona began to rouse herself up.

“There’s a category five hurricane headed for the Gulf of Mexico. It looks like your Parish is right in its path. They are evacuating the Parish.”

“Bertrand.” Mona whispered as she sat up in the bed.

“He’s nowhere to be found.” Tony said.

“How do you know? Maybe he went to pick them up already.” Mona yawned getting out of the bed and slipping on her slippers.

“Remy says he hasn’t seen Bertrand in over five days.” Tony said.

This drove Mona into action. She found her robe and went to her vanity table. She picked up the phone to call her mother. Tony knew then that he was no longer needed so he left the room as quietly as he had come. He did not envy Bertrand in that moment. He knew that there would be hell to pay. As he descended the stairs he hoped that Mona would get in contact with her mother. Even though the woman despised him and his “living in sin” with her daughter he knew her to be an honorable woman.

Tony returned to the bar and poured himself a drink. Remy still sat at the edge of the bar where he had left him. “Hey Remy, what you drinking?”

“I’ll take a shot of Southern Comfort.” Remy replied.

“Southern Comfort it is, one finger or two?” Tony asked as he took out a shot glass and a bottle of the liquor.

“One man, I’ve got to perform tonight.” Tony poured the drink and handed it to Remy.

“Any news on Sugar Doll?” Remy asked hopefully.

“No but Mona is on the case.” Tony said confidently. “That woman can work miracles.” He smiled more to himself. The men toasted. “To miracles.” They both said in unison. The rain outside was coming down harder. The streets were emptying.

“Sometimes rain is like poetry. It’s so beautiful that you do not think of the damage it can cause.” Remy drank his whiskey feeling its burn in his chest.

“Spoken like a true artist.” Tony said.

“What time do I go on?” asked Remy.

“8 p.m. sharp.” Tony said as he poured another drink.

“Do you really think that the hurricane will hit here?” Remy asked.

“Not likely and even if it does the French Quarters are set on higher ground and will be protected. This son is the center of New Orleans. Besides the city pumps will get rid of the excess water. I don’t feel as positive for lower Plaquemines Parish however. That little slice of heaven should have disappeared long ago. Hurricanes Betsey and Camille should have taken it down but now forty years later it’s time is at hand. Katrina may hit Florida or Texas instead. That’s what happened in the past. I think you are worrying over nothing. That’s what I think.” Tony poured himself another drink.

“Why do you think that Plaquemines should have disappeared already?” Remy asked interested.

“Because it’s so far below sea level that it is little more than marsh land.” Answered Tony.

“God, I hope that they get out!” exclaimed Remy.

“Don’t worry boy, everybody down there knows everyone else. Big Ma is no shrinking violet and she is kin to half the parish. I wouldn’t be surprised if she was the first one out dragging Sugar Doll with her.” Tony smiled encouragingly. Remy smiled back but he could not help but worry.

Chapter Ten

The rain plopped warmly onto Sugar Doll’s back. She had managed to get all of the photo albums into two large pillowcases. She had one garbage bag filled with warm, dry clothes. This was the poor man’s suitcase. Big Ma had a bag filled with canned food, water, her strongbox and her medications all in clear sandwich baggies. They had tried to reach Bertrand in vain. The pastor of Big Ma’s church had come by in his loaded van to try to squeeze them in but there was not enough room for them both. The pastor said that he would tell the sheriff to come by the house and escort them both to a storm shelter.

There were buses in Belle Chasse which were taking people to New Orleans or to Baton Rouge. Sugar Doll felt afraid, “Pastor Han, you know Big Ma is ill and I really don’t want her going to some shelter. Would you please take her with you and I will pay whatever it costs at a hotel.” She asked pleadingly. A bright streak of lightening flashed across the sky. The storm was getting worse. The rain outside came down on the tin roof like bullets. Pastor Han wiped his forehead with a kerchief, “My girl of course we can take Sister Evangeline with us.”

Sugar Doll opened her purse and took out the five hundred dollars she had taken out of her bank account the day before after having waited in line for an hour. Pastor Han waved her
off. “Sister, keep your money, you will probably need it. We don’t know if it’s God’s plan for this hurricane to hit or not but all of us should be prepared. We will take care of the Sister.” He said speaking in his best pastor’s voice.

Big Ma looked worried. “I don’t want to leave you down here by yourself.” Big Ma cried. The horn of the van registered a sound. Sugar Doll looked out of the window to see young Brian, the pastor’s son tooting the horn.

“I’m sorry about that but unfortunately my young son is right. We have a long trip ahead of us. We are going to Alexandria and the freeways are already getting clogged up, the official evacuation hasn’t happened yet but in about two days it will and we want to be close to our destination.” Pastor Han took another swipe at his beading forehead. It was warm but not as hot as his perspiring made it seem.