Gods of New Orleans (25 page)

“Play your horn, Mr. Eddie Collins. Play your horn so my guests can make merry. And make merry yourself if the mood strikes you.”

Emma had pretended not to hear what the gangster had said, but she had to bite her tongue to keep from complaining about the two men talking like she wasn’t right there in the airship with them. Eddie didn’t say much that Emma could say was out of line, but he didn’t say anything against the words coming out of Bacchus’s mouth either.

It still gnawed at her guts that she hadn’t asked Eddie if he was staying true to her. But then, in a way, it gnawed even more to suspect that he wasn’t.

The third job she’d done for Bacchus was ferrying a group of young ladies to a social event. The women had all been stern-faced and solemn while they stood in the cabin on the flight. And only one of them acknowledged Emma with a wave of her hand.

The others acted like Emma was just hired help, and not particularly good help. She’d overheard whispered comments about ‘doves fouling the nest’ and somebody needing to ‘find a new jellyroll.’ In the moment, Emma told herself the women were talking about someone else. It wasn’t until they’d left the ship that Emma let her heart key in. She had flown home looking at a city stained with tears.

Now, coming down over a mooring deck off Delaronde, Emma swallowed back fresh tears inspired by the memories and forced herself to keep a good face on for tonight’s job. She hated to admit it, but Eddie wasn’t the only one worried about keeping Bacchus happy.

The boarding house was supposed to be nearby, and Emma reached for the radio to let the house mother know she’d arrived. As Emma opened the channel, she spotted the chaperone climbing the stairs to the deck with the girls in tow. A dozen at least.

As the group approached the gangway, Emma unlatched the door and opened it. The chaperone ushered her charges forward and followed in their wake. The girls stepped on uneasy legs, all of them with mixes of worry and wonder on their faces. Maybe it was their first time in an airship.

Or maybe it’s where this airship is taking them
.

Emma couldn’t shake the feeling that something was wrong, but as the chaperone came up the gangway she forced her face into a weak grin.

“I’m Emma Farnsworth,” she said, but kept her hands by her sides.

“Good evening to you, Miss Farnsworth. My name is Adelaide Roche. You may call me Miss Roche.”

Emma nodded and bent to work the lever to close the door. Miss Roche took a seat at Brand’s desk while the girls milled around the cabin space.

“Washroom’s in back, just down the hall,” Emma said to the girls.

“They won’t be going nowhere’s,” Miss Roche said. “Not if I can’ see ‘em. And you don’ need to be talkin’ to ‘em anyway. Just fly us on, if you will.”

Feeling that familiar burn of resentment mixed with fear, Emma settled herself into the cockpit and radioed the gearboxes on the deck. Moments later they were airborne and sailing through the New Orleans night. Emma’s mind swam with worry for the girls. They were mixed, with faces running from light-skinned to dark and all points between. The girls looked about the same age, and not one of them more than two years passed coming into season.

Emma remembered her own innocence. She also remembered the way her father’s friends and the men at the power plant would look at her once womanhood began to peek out from behind her child’s face. And when she’d turned sixteen, dammit if some of those men hadn’t tried to do more than look when they knew nobody else was.

Eddie hadn’t asked her if she would come join him tonight, after she was done with her job. But Emma knew the next time Eddie opened that door and she could spare the time she’d be walking straight through. Whatever went on with these girls, she’d find out about it. And then she’d decide if staying in New Orleans was still in the cards.

Chapter 26

Days and nights felt nicer all around for Aiden as springtime had come to New Orleans. He had heard from Julien that was the best season in the city. Plenty to see and do, and the storms wouldn’t come in for a couple months more. Of course, they still had to clean the gala houses for Mama Shandy.

“Girls be ‘round the houses more now, so watch your eyes, Dove Conroy. Don’ go lookin’. Not ‘less you wanna give half what you see with to the Birdman.”

Julien took to calling Aiden “Dove Conroy” after Aiden’s latest win at the Ghost’s window. Julien was still down on his bets, but he’d won a couple recently. Aiden, however, had a solid winning streak. That didn’t sit with the other boys, especially not Theo Valcour. But for Julien it was like Aiden was doing some magic trick. The guy even stood up for him, telling the others, “Don’ go hasslin’ Dove Conroy” and “Leave Dove Conroy be.”

Now, after a long night’s work and a bigger than usual win at the Ghost’s window, Aiden was pushing his cart down the street, heading home. The air felt thick and warm around him, and he shrugged out of his coat to let the night air tickle his arms. He enjoyed the quiet small hours, and hoped the coming day’s sunlight would be just as nice. Of course, he’d be missing the first half of it.

He’d brought in enough dough to get him and his ma a real bed at last. It was just a mattress for now, but the rest would be coming soon. He just had to bring home tonight’s winnings. Since they got the mattress, Aiden had taken to sleeping until around lunchtime. Then he’d grab a plate of hash at the nearest sandwich counter and pick up something for his ma, too. They’d eat sitting on the steps leading up to their room, or inside at their little table when a cool breeze made the shivers race up and down Aiden’s legs.

His ma still had worry on her face every time he looked at her, but she’d been kinder to him since his pa went missing.

The old man did something right when he went down the neck of a bottle and then just plain vanished.

Aiden wouldn’t let himself think about that day now. He’d figured he could keep earning dough for him and his ma and things’d turn out better than they’d had in Chicago City. His pa was gone and that was that. Nothing he could do about it.

Mr. Brand sure seemed to think different that day he came by.

And so what? So his old boss was some kind of ghost tramp now and could dance around the place like a breeze through the trees. The guy looked half crazy the last time Aiden’d seen him, and the way he held that letter out . . .

He still hadn’t told his ma about it, and he had no plans to. She was down in the mouth about him working for a Negro lady as it was. Add some talk about his old boss telling him he’s a god and Ma’d blow her top.

Better to just keep bringing in the dough. They’d already got some new dishes, a few new pieces of clothing, and a whole new sewing set for his ma. He still wasn’t bringing home enough to help her buy her own machine, and half of what she earned paid rent on the one she used now.

But still, he’d done something to make living in New Orleans a little easier on them both. Even if he did have to work the night through, he’d made good on the Conroy name, and doing the same as his father used to do for a living. If he got lucky, he could keep on doing it.

As he trundled his cart down the streets, Aiden wondered if Julien and the other houseboys were talking up the rumors going around.

Mama Shandy had competition coming to town, people were saying. She’d been acting real sweet lately, not giving Aiden half the trouble she usually had. Julien joked with him that maybe she was sweet on him and wanted to make him her “little prize dove.” That had to be what Theo and the other boys were jawing about when Aiden left. The way they laughed, it couldn’t’ve been much else.

“Damn near a dozen blocks to go,” Aiden said to himself. He shook off the urge to leave his cart where it was and just head home without having to shove the thing up every little incline along the way. He’d cut through an older neighborhood to save time and wondered if it was a good idea. After the third little hill he had to climb, he was starting to think he’d made a mistake.

The street leveled out again and Aiden pushed his cart toward an intersection of streets with brick houses with hedges on one side and dark storefronts on the other. He stopped when he heard a whistling sound from behind him. It echoed around the intersection and he turned in circles trying to pinpoint the source.

The whistling returned, this time from back the way he’d come. He looked back and saw nothing. The whistling continued, an almost happy tune, but the way it echoed around the empty night gave Aiden the shivers, so he set to pushing his cart along again.

Theo Valcour stepped out from behind a hedge across the way and waved at him. The large boy was whistling a greeting, too, and then sent his tune diving to the depths of threat.

Aiden spun his cart to the side and took off running down the main stem. He didn’t usually take this street to get home, and he knew he could end up taking a wrong turn if he wasn’t careful. But going this way put him the farthest from Theo as he could get, so he ran and he followed the street into the darkness.

Behind him, the whistling continued, and Aiden looked back the way he’d come. Theo stood under a gas lamp a few steps down from the last corner. Aiden slowed for a second, but picked up his pace again when he saw the larger boy take off at a good clip, coming straight for him.

Aiden put everything he had into making tracks, but he knew it wouldn’t last. He banged his shins against the back of his cart, and he nearly stumbled.

He thought again about leaving the cart behind. Just grabbing the mop and running, so at least he’d have a weapon when Theo caught up to him. But then he’d need to buy a new cart for Mama Shandy, and he couldn’t bear to imagine the beating he’d get from the toughs who worked for her if he told her he just left the cart behind.

And what else am I gonna tell her?

Side streets disappeared in the corners of Aiden’s eyes as he ran. Theo’s heavy footsteps kept coming, kept pounding into the street behind him. Aiden spun his cart to the right and launched down a side street. He got about a dozen steps in when he drew up short and halted his cart from nearly running over a man lying in the street.

At first, Aiden thought the man might be dead, but a heavy snore rumbled out of the man’s chest, and a second later Aiden caught the stink of old liquor wafting through the air. He looked around the street for somewhere to hide, all the while listening to Theo Valcour’s footsteps grow closer and closer. Aiden was about to push his cart around the sleeping bum in the street when his breath caught in his throat.

The street looked like a flophouse turned inside out. Tramps lay all around him on the pavement, on sidewalks, up against buildings, half in and half out of doorways and alleyways. Some on their feet, sleeping standing up, others spread out like they’d been stepped on by a giant and left to lie there until the undertaker came to haul them away.

Aiden heard a chorus of snores and sneezes, raspy breaths and wheezing coughs from throats burned raw with hooch and cigarette smoke. Aiden coughed himself when he breathed in the thick smell of unwashed skin and ratty hair mixed with a day’s worth of filth and the remains of last night’s booze.

Was this where his pa had wound up? Every one of the bums bristled with matted, scraggly hair and a tangled beard. As Aiden stared, some of them began to moan and roll around on the street, like big hogs put over on their sides for the night. Others staggered away from the walls that held them upright. These moaned, too, and their lowing and grunting made Aiden’s gut twist. He began to back up but remembered Theo Valcour was on his tail. Aiden pushed his cart to the side, meaning to move across the open street and back out to the main stem.

He’d waited too long, though. Theo came rushing around the corner and nearly crashed into Aiden when he pulled to a stop. Aiden looked the big boy in the eye while the tramps made their clumsy way in the two boys’ direction.

Theo gave Aiden a shove and laughed as he stepped back a few paces to stand at the mouth of the street.

“Go on, Dove. Go on down the way. Take your chances with the mud men. You lucky, you just get a little dark on you. But I’m thinkin’ you ain’t gonna be lucky, Dove. I’m thinkin’ you had your run of good luck today already.”

Aiden didn’t move, and Theo came forward again, grabbing at Aiden’s pocket. Before he could stop the bigger boy, Theo had a handful of Aiden’s winnings from that night in his mitt.

“Hey, give it back!” he shouted, but Theo wasn’t playing ball. He stepped up and shoved both hands against Aiden’s chest, nearly toppling him over his cart. “Go on,” Theo said. “Get in there, white boy. Or come out here and pay the piper with the rest of what you got in that pocket.”

Theo Valcour backed up, away from the tramps and their street. He pocketed what he’d nabbed from Aiden and balled his fists. He made to stand guard at the end of the street, waiting for Aiden to run past him.

Aiden turned to see a team of three tramps standing near him, mouths hanging open and hands reaching, palms up, as if they expected Aiden to give them something. Money or hooch, either way he had nothing to offer to these filthy gutter rats, even if one of them might be his own father. So on shaky legs, and glad to be free of Theo Valcour, Aiden pivoted his cart and moved away from the trio of bums.

He took a winding route through the others that had come staggering into the street with their beggars’ hands out to him. But the tramps were ready for him. As he moved around one pair, another swept into the space he aimed for, so he had to bump them with his cart and push his way through to a clear section of the street.

Soon enough, though, tramps had boxed him in on three sides. They rose up from where they’d lain or peeled away from a dark patch of shadow next to a building. No matter where Aiden aimed his cart, they got into his path somehow.

Aiden shivered with fear and cold, and then did the only thing he could think of. He ran, using his cart as both a shield and battering ram. He dodged the tramps when he could and pushed past them when he had to. Finally, he slammed into one and knocked the man out of the way with a shove of his arm.