Free NOLA by Alexie Aaron Page A

stopped to pull up his boots.  As he evened out the spandex, red python print, he noticed a pair of shiny wingtips stop in front of him.  He took his time rising, taking in the gangster style, dress pants that fell in a sharp line from narrow hips.  The wearer had forgone the jacket and stood there staring at Amadour in an open-necked white shirt.  The face of this creature was hea-ven.  The man’s close-cut black hair, blue eyes and caramel skin were unusual but interesting.  This man was too good to be true.  Amadour felt a stirring he hadn’t had in a dozen years.
    “Hello, can I be of assistance?” the man asked.  His voice had a Chicago accent.  The way he chewed his words was almost theatrical though.
    “Why yes, I was on my way to the Pub and Parade, but my boots keep falling down.”
    “Maybe you need to take them off and put them on again,” the gangster suggested.
    Amadour looked around and shook his head. “No benches.”
    “My place isn’t far from here. Perhaps you’d like to take your boots off there…”
    Amadour’s eyebrows lifted.  “Why not,” he said and grasped the arm that was held out to him.
     
    Lone Sal witnessed Amadour’s conquest and shook her head.  He was always going off, not mindful of whom he was with.  She expected, because he was dead, he couldn’t get into any trouble, but still she worried about her friend.  She took off her stilettos and hiked up her tight skirt so she could move fast. She followed the couple as they moved swiftly down the street and into a museum of all places.  She decided to hang back in the courtyard, not wanting to disturb the two men.  She heard Amadour’s voice and the voice of the gangster as they climbed the stairs.  She heard the word “antique” bantered back and forth.
    Lone Sal put on her shoes and smoothed down her dress.  She decided to check out the museum while she was waiting.  One never knew who was hanging around a beloved piece of furniture or jewelry.  She once talked for hours to an old dame from Paris, France.  She didn’t mind that her necklace had made it overseas to the pawnshop as long as her daughter-in-law didn’t have it.  Lone Sal thought that eternity was way too long to be holding grudges.
    A sound from the stairs alerted her.  She saw Amadour move through the door.  He walked a bit too stiff; lord knows what went on up there.  She approached him and said, “You had me frightened, Amadour!  There are spirits going missing every night.  You have to be careful who you hook up with.”
    Amadour turned his head, and blue, not brown, eyes stared at her.
    She moved backwards.  Amadour smiled wickedly.  “What’s wrong?”
    “You’re not my friend,” she accused, trying to move unsuccessfully through the thick brick wall.
    “Amadour and I simply changed clothes.  He will be down in a minute,” the entity explained using Amadour’s voice.
    “No, I don’t believe you.”
    The entity sighed.  “Come see for yourself.” It placed the well-manicured fingers of Amadour’s hand on her arm.
    Lone Sal followed the entity up the stairs.  She couldn’t help it.  Once the connection was made, she was helpless to escape.
    They moved through a locked and bolted door.  The room was large and dusty.
    “He’s not here.”
    “Yes, he is.  Come with me, and I will show you your precious Amadour.  He shoved her towards the desk that had a large wooden bowl on it.  He pushed her head down and said, “Look into the water, and there is your Amadour.”
    A face burst from the water.  “Run, Sal, run!” it screamed.
    Two hands pulled the face back into the water.
    Sal tried to twist away, but the entity was too strong for her.  Soon the hands reappeared and pulled her into the water, and as she sunk into the depths, she looked backwards to see that the entity no longer looked like Amadour.  Instead, she saw her own face staring back at her.
     

     
     

    Chapter Five
     
    Mia rose fully