Monday, August 8, 2016

Guest Author: Voodoo Man Part 4


Find all chapters, here.


4
Chapter Four



            By the time June had landed in New Orleans it was three o’clock and her girls had already been there for three hours. She wondered what they had gotten into while waiting on her arrival. Maybe they hadn’t waited on her at all. She sat in baggage claim and decided to turn her phone on to check her notifications. She had a voicemail from Rice checking up on her and one from Deanna chastising her for missing her flight. She had a text alert from an unknown number: Tonight. Madame Laurent St. John’s Shop. June was confused because she didn’t know who the sender was nor had she ever heard of such a shop. She assumed it was one of her friends and that her phone signal was still distorted from the flight.
It didn’t take long for her bright purple luggage bag to find its way onto the conveyor belt. She grabbed her belongings and hailed a cab to the AirBnb address they were all sharing. Luckily for her they all had separate bedrooms so she wouldn’t have to worry about any awkward couple moments where she’d be sleeping. She was nevertheless excited about experiencing Mardi gras for the first time. She peered out the back seat window as they drove down the historical Magazine Street in the Garden District of New Orleans. She loved the bright blue, yellow and pink houses that lined the street each covered in a colorful array of flowers and greenery. The taxi stopped in front of a bold blue house with bright yellow lining. It was covered in colorful violets, forest green ivies, and the tulips and sunflowers sprang from the grass in the yard. It seemed like a small house for what would’ve been six people, now five.
“This is it Miss. That’ll be twelve dollars.” The cabbie turned in his seat.
“Twelve dollars?! Sheesh you guys are expensive, I should’ve requested a car.” June dug in her wallet and pulled out a crisp twenty dollar bill. “You can keep the change sir.”
“Thank you. Need some help with bag?”
“No I just have one.” June grabbed her carry on and pulled her luggage out of the car. She couldn’t wait to get inside and see her friends.
“Thank you.” She said as she closed the door. She stepped on to the curb as the bright yellow taxi rode off.
With her belongings in tow she eased her way through the black cast iron fence that wrapped around the property. The black paint was cracked and chipping and the fence made a loud creaking sound as she opened it wider and wider. It was quiet on the street except for the rustling plants and trees dancing with the wind.
Her heels clicked and the wheels of her luggage made a loud thud as she approached the house walking on a broken cobblestone path. There was just a single step that led to a wraparound porch and a screen door protecting the glass door with the chipped white border. She rung the rusted doorbell and waited for an answer. When she didn’t get an answer she tried her luck and turned the glass doorknob.
“Hello?” June called. The house was empty. She walked through the hall and admired the black and white photos lining the yellow walls in the corridor. She loved how colorful the house was. There was a powder blue table with a multi colored mosaic lamp. She ran her finger along the rainbow colored coat hooks and hung her bag on it.
“Hello? D? Rice?” She called once more. Maybe they hadn’t heard her.
She walked into the living room. There was a fireplace and June immediately fell in love with it. She wished Trevor was with her. She imagined many nights of their vacation spent in front of a fireplace, sipping wine, talking, and quietly making love as everyone else slept. Things had to end; she just wished it wasn’t now.
She put her bag down and sat on the floral sofa near the fireplace. It was safe to assume no one was home. She laid her head back on the couch and thought this was going to be a long and interesting vacation. After a few minutes in the living room, she followed the dark cherry wood hall to the kitchen and things became even more colorful. The kitchen was one of her dreams with its huge island with marble counter top; the stove was just like she had seen on those late night cooking shows she watched when insomnia paid her a visit. She marveled at the gold pots and pans that dangled from their rack on the ceiling. She had never seen a gold refrigerator before and the kitchen table was a dark wood to match the flooring. The walls were painted the same powder blue as the table in the hall and rather than black and white photos, there were colorful paintings and vintage brand posters on the wall. She imagined waking up early and cooking breakfast with Trevor as he came up and hugged her from behind. She imagined them having a counter top quickie before everyone else rose for the day and sharing laughs and giggles because no one would know, but them. She knew this vacation wouldn’t at all go the way she had hoped, but she was going to make the most of it.
Lost in thought she received another alert: Tonight. Madame Laurent St. John’s Shop. It was the same as before and June thought that it had to be one of her friends. She decided to call Deanna.
“Hey where are you guys?”
“June! You finally made it! We’re on Bourbon Street.” Deanna said.
“Hey, June!!” Everyone said in unison.
“June come meet us!” Rice yelled in the background.
“Okay I’ll call you. By the way do I have a key to this house?”
“Yeah it’s in the second room at the top of the stairs. That’s your room.”
“Okay, thanks. See you soon.”
June hung up and decided to take her time unpacking. She wasn’t in a rush to be a fifth wheel although she wanted to check out that shop someone kept texting her about.
She texted Patrick from the airport, “Hey I landed. Nice meeting you.”

Likewise ;)


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Deja is a lifestyle writer and digital content creator for some of your favorite sites such as Madame Noire and Upscale Magazine. When she's not writing loves getting lost in the world of fiction specifically crime, mysteries, and thrillers. She believes that sometimes the best and cheapest vacations are in between the pages of a new book.

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