One Hundred Saints (3 page)

I looked around the room and decided my luggage bag might be safest inside the small refrigerator in the room. I walked over to and pulled the plug out of the wall socket behind it, before opening the door and pulling the shelves out. I got up and went over to the inside of the door where I had left the bag and with a sigh, brought it to the refrigerator and crammed it in. It took a few tries to get the door to stay closed, but I eventually managed it.

As I started to stand up, I lost my balance and almost fell onto the dirty carpet, but managed to catch myself on the top of the sturdy wooden box that had encased the fridge. I rolled my eyes; only I would be able to lose my balance for no reason and almost face plant onto the dirtiest carpet I had ever seen in my life.

I wiped my hands on the sides of my legs, and then went over to the bed to retrieve my wallet and the key to the room. It went without saying that there wouldn’t be any food in this hotel and I wouldn’t be able to eat anything in this dingy room even if I had it delivered.

I stepped into the dimly lit hallway and pulled the door closed firmly behind me, locking it. I was about one hundred and ten percent sure that Robert wouldn’t have any menus at the front desk, but he might at least be able to point me in the right direction.

The smell of incense grew heavier the closer to the front desk I got, but I welcomed the powerful scent. It was strong enough to cleanse my senses of the dirty room I had just spent maybe ten minutes in.

When the desk was in my line of sight, I noticed that Robert was missing from his station so I walked over and gently tapped the old golden bell that sat on the counter. I let out a sigh as I leaned an arm on it, waiting for him, or anyone really to appear.

It was right before I was about to tap the bell again that I heard the mumbled sounds of prayer. I hadn’t heard it at first because it seemed to be intensifying with each passing moment.

“Hello?” I called out gently.

I was greeted by the sound of something resembling a baton hitting the top of a drum, and then the praying stopped. Less than a minute later Robert emerged from the back room with a tired look in his eyes.

“Yes, Miss Isabelle?” he asked, resting his hands on the counter.

“Um, I was wondering if you knew of any good places to eat around here,” I replied nervously removing my arm from the counter top.

“There’s a good Cajun restaurant a few streets down. Go out onto the street and take a left out the door. Walk down a few blocks and walk across the street. You’ll see it just fine.”

“Thank you,” I replied softly as I walked quickly out of the lobby. I felt his eyes on me until I disappeared out of sight and I wondered if I should go back at all. Something about him wasn’t right and I just didn’t know what it was.

I
t was around seven o’clock the next morning when I woke up. I had decided to stuff myself full of “Louisiana’s best gumbo” as it was advertised, go back to the hotel, barricade the door with the only chair in the room, and sleep in the tub. It was the one thing I was able to wash myself, so I knew it would be clean enough to sleep in. I didn’t count on the major stiff neck I would wake up with, but it was okay with me because at least I woke up.

I didn’t even bother brushing my teeth; I went to my bag, retrieved some fresh clothes, took a quick shower, and left the key on the front counter as I exited Robert’s hotel.

I figured I could go back to the fresh air market and talk to Monroe and see if he knew of any better accommodations in town. And while I was there, I’d buy another round of pineapples for breakfast since I didn’t end up eating the ones I had bought the day before. One step into that hotel room and I could only imagine what kind of bacteria had migrated to them.

I sighed as I made the trek, the humidity starting to pick up, which was a little unusual for March. I somehow managed to open my bag as I walked and pulled out a hair tie, then pulled my long brown hair back into a loose ponytail. It wouldn’t do much to satiate the heat, but it would do enough for now.

As I turned toward the alley that led to the open market, I smiled when I saw Monroe’s son running around the stalls. It looked like he was trying to barter with other merchants, but I was too far away to tell.

“Hey!” I called out as I neared the row of stalls. Monroe wasn’t at his stall that that moment, so I assumed his son would be the one handling any business for him until he appeared. It seemed unusual to me for someone so young to be given such a responsibility, but I was sure that if he wasn’t trustworthy, he wouldn’t have the opportunity to trade and sell in his father’s place.

The young boy was only wearing a pair of jeans with rolled cuffs; barefoot and shirtless. It made me wonder if that’s because he was most comfortable that way or if because his family needed clothes.

Careful Emmie; you can’t save everyone,
my subconscious warned.

He glanced over at the sound of my voice and came running toward me with a big, happy smile on his face, and his arms opened wide. I laughed at how happy he was to see me; not in a cruel way, but in a way that told him that I was just as happy to see him.

“Hi ma’am!” he yelled happily as he crashed against me, wrapping his thin arms around my waist.

“You can call me Emily if you’d like,” I replied, while returning his tight hug. “You never did tell me your name, though.”

Monroe’s son pulled back, arms still around me, and looked up at me with that big smile. “My name is James.”

“That’s a good strong name,” I remarked, as he pulled away. “Where’s your Papa, James?”

“He’s not feeling good today. Mama will be along soon but I told them I could help until she got here,” he explained.

“Is he okay?” I asked curiously.

“Ate too much steak last night,” he replied with a gleam in his eye.

I smiled again. It seemed they hadn’t forgotten to go by the butcher’s shop after all. I was happy that I had done something nice for them. I was usually a very good judge of character and I really liked Monroe and James.

The longer we stood there just smiling at each other in silence, the more I wanted to ask him to do something for me. I would pay him for his trouble of course, but I was really hoping to ask Monroe first if it would be okay with him. Unfortunately, he wouldn’t be coming to the market today from the sound of it and I didn’t really want to wait any longer than I had to.

“James, you know when I was about your age, I had a really good friend. I haven’t seen him in a long time, but I think he survived Katrina because of something that was said to me yesterday,” I said slowly.

“Oh, that’s a dangerous place, Miss Emily. That Lower Ninth Ward? It’s hard to get into and even harder to look around,” he replied, shaking his head.

I sighed. At this point, if he was weary of where I was going to ask him to go, then chances were no amount of money would change his mind. It was probably for the best.

“You think he’s there?” he asked curiously.

“That’s where he lived,” I replied softly.

“You want me to go find him?” James prompted.

“No. Not if it’s dangerous. I don’t want you to be in a bad place where something could happen to you.”

James shook his head firmly, “Miss Emily, you helped my Papa. You made sure we could eat for a long time; I can do this for you if you want. Tell me what he look like.”

I pursed my lips and crossed my arms over my chest. I wasn’t exactly sure what he would look like now; I only remembered the boy I knew. Also, I was having serious second thoughts about James being so young and going alone to a “dangerous” place.

“What’s his name, Miss Emily?” he pressed.

“I don’t want you to go; not alone. And I want to talk to your Mama first and make sure she’s okay with it.”

“Aw, Miss! My Mama don’t need to know! I’ll get some of my friends to go with me! I got older friends that always want to go out there. We’ll be just fine,” he declared, giving my suggestion a dismissive wave.

“I can’t tell you what he looks like now; only what I remember, is that enough?” I asked softly. James nodded and crossed his arms over his chest waiting for a description and a name. “He had dark blonde, long hair when I saw him last. Big blue eyes, skin tanned by the time he spent fishing out under the Louisiana sun. He never really smiled, but he always did with me. I think he would be about this tall now,” I said, holding a hand up above my head, “and he answered to the name Grimm. He was my very good and only friend, really.”

I hadn’t realized that I had been crying until James reached up to brush a tear away from my cheek. “We’ll find him,” he promised confidently. “As soon as Mama gets here, I’ll go get my friends and we’ll go find him.”

I crouched down to James’ height to give him a kiss on the cheek. He smiled and blushed as I stood back up and reached down for my bag. My wallet was in there and I wanted to give him some money to split with his friends. When I stood up again, I opened it up and pulled out five twenty dollar bills.

“You split this with your friends for helping me, okay?” I said, holding out the money.

“Thank you! I promise we’ll do a good job of finding your very good friend,” he replied happily. “Oh! There’s my Mama now! I’m gonna let her know how the morning’s been, and then I’ll go. Don’t tell her anything though, Miss Emily. If you do, she won’t let me go,” he warned before he ran off to greet his mother.

As I watched him chat briefly with the dark haired, beautiful woman, I felt hopeful again.

Hopeful that he might find him.

Hopeful that he might come back with
some
news to satisfy my curiosity.

What I didn’t count on was that it would be the last time I’d ever see James alive.

I
bought some pineapples from Monroe’s wife and she gave me some really good information of places I could stay at that didn’t reek of mold. I thanked her by giving her an extra ten dollars, then I made my way out of the market. Since Mardi Gras was tomorrow, I knew I wouldn’t have a chance in hell of finding a decent place to stay, but she told me that if I went to La Rue Chateau a few streets down from Bourbon Street and told them I knew her and Monroe, they would give me a room to stay in.

It made me happy to know that she was just as kind as her husband and son. Usually families don’t end up that way; there’s always a good one and a bad one, but this family only seemed full of good.

My bag rumbled quietly on the street as I guided it toward Bourbon Street which was four blocks down from the market. I could only hope that they were open tomorrow since a lot of tourists would be looking for mid-day snacks, they would be able to find plenty of fresh fruit there.

I was waiting at the intersection for the light to turn red so I could walk, when I saw a small voodoo shop on the corner. I made a note of it so that I could come back that way and see if they had any card readers or fortune tellers. I knew the ones in the market might be more authentic, but I didn’t really have an important questions to ask. It would just be something to pass the time with.

When the light finally gave me the go ahead, I crossed the street and walked until I saw La Rue Chateau. It was three stories high and already decorated for tomorrow, not to mention it looked a thousand times better than Robert’s moldy place.

I pulled the door in and walked up to the counter in the opulent lobby and smiled. I wasn’t sure exactly how Monroe and his wife would know the people that owned a place like this, but I was definitely in a place that would make me feel safe.

There was a young pretty, petite brunette behind the counter who smiled at me with the whitest teeth I had ever seen.

“Hello! Welcome to La Rue Chateau! Do you have a reservation?” she asked cheerfully.

“No,” I replied as I approached, “But Monroe’s wife sent me. She said you could find a room for me.”

“Ah! Market Monroe!” she said with a big smile. “You’re his friend? Then I definitely can find you a room. We’re all booked up, but I always keep one vacant in case him and his family want to come watch the parade from the balcony. I’ll give you that room.”

I nodded happily. I was going to have a room with a balcony view of the festivities as they happened and Daddy couldn’t stop me from at least watching this time.

A few moments of tapping the keys on her computer and she had me sign some paperwork. I had no issues signing my real name in this place.

Emily I. Thibideaux,
I signed with a flourish. She looked at the paperwork and nodded once she was sure all important parts were filled out.

“My name is Carrie and I’m the assistant hotel manager. Please reach out to me if you have any concerns!” she said handing me an electronic room key. “Now you can take the stairs, or you can take the elevator up. Your room is number three twenty. Right in the middle of the floor. Enjoy your stay!”

“Thanks Carrie!” I said, as I reached down for the handle of my bag and went toward the small elevator banks.

I already knew that once I got comfortable in the room, I was going to soak in the tub for at least an hour, and then I was going to call my parents and see if Daddy was still mad at me. I hated thinking that he would still be upset after all these years over Grimm. I was allowed to have friends, regardless of their position or standing in society.