Asylum Heights

by Austin R. Moody

  He quietly moved to the registration desk and saw that the clerk was in the back of the office, fussing with supplies. There was no one else in the lobby, and he eased along the desk and down the hallway to a pair of telephone booths that were available for the convenience of the guests. He slipped into the first booth and closed the folding glass doors of the entrance sealing the sounds without, creating an atmosphere of privacy and deep quietude.

  He lifted the receiver and waited until Maxine, the night telephone operator’s somewhat shrill voice inquired, “Number Ple-uz?”

  Jordan responded, “Good evening, Maxine. This is Mr. Peltier from the bank. I’m over here at the hotel, and I need to put in a call to my cousin down in New Orleans. If you will, just put it on my monthly house telephone bill.”

  Maxine answered, “Oh, hi, Mr. Peltier, I’ll be glad to charge it to your home number. Would you like to make it station-to-station, or person-to-person?”

  Jordan said “We’d better make it a person call, because he’s a bachelor like me and goes out a lot at night.”

  “Hope he’s as cute as you are,” she sighed.

  Jordan smiled to himself and spoke with pretended gravity and sternness, “Now Maxine, don’t get fresh with me. Someone might hear you, and then I would have some tall explaining to do to your big jealous husband and those eight little kids you have to take care of. How do you think the community would feel about their banker wrecking homes like that? I want you to know, however, how much I appreciate such a nice looking young lady thinking of me and with those kind thoughts. Just don’t tell Big Jasper about our mutual admiration.”

  With equal mock indignation, Maxine fired back, “His name isn’t Jasper, he's five feet, five inches tall, and I only have six kids. My heart’s broken, but what’s your cousin’s name and telephone number down in New Orleans?”

  Jordan knew that the game was over and his voice became more objective. He replied, “His name is Bertrand Gereaux, and he lives south of New Orleans in Grand Isle. His telephone number is Grand Isle 8-342.”

  Jordan could hear the clicking of the numbers being entered into the rotary telephone system. Shortly thereafter, Bertrand answered in rather stiff, formal Arcadian but laughed aloud when he heard the voice of his very close first cousin. They conversed in the rich French dialogue of the delta country natives of southern and southwestern Louisiana. Jordan inquired about Bertrand’s mother, Mamaw Marie Paulette and his sisters. Many years before, Bertrand’s father had gone into the impenetrable vegetation of the marshy bayou waterways one morning and had not come back.

  Mamaw had waited with interminable patience, but he had simply vanished, never to return, nor to be heard of again. She never remarried, clinging to hope, her prayer beads, and her children; an icon of virtue and Christian faith.

  Bertrand told him that they were all well, and asked if Jordan had found any good looking women up in the Mississippi woods.

  Jordan responded, “Un femme sole.”

  Bertrand queried, “She must be very special. Tell me about her. What is she like? Is she pretty?”

  Jordan thought a moment, then answered, “In due time, Mon ami. She was only visiting, and is already gone. I will retrieve her and bring her down there when I find her. For now, however, we have business.” Jordan set the receiver on the tiny ledge within the telephone booth and opened the folding glass door. He looked and found that the lobby and all of the hallways were empty.

  Feeling secure in the knowledge that no one would be able to hear their conversation, he turned and re-entered the booth. He picked up the receiver again and continued, “Bertrand, I have come upon a most unique opportunity, one that I cannot accomplish alone. I will need certain equipment and supplies.” Bertrand’s telephone receiver remained quiet for several seconds then he inquired, “What do you require?”

  Jordan answered, “First, you must find wine barrels, French and American oak, 20 to 50-gallons per barrel, 250-gallons in total volume, either new or re-conditioned used along with the price and availability of each.

  Additionally, find dark bottles, five per gallon, sufficient in number to fill 160-gallons of liquid.” He paused then continued, “Have the barrel Cooper to disassemble the barrels and purchase a small truckload of cord wood. Mix the barrel staves, tops and bottoms, and the metal binding bands in with the firewood, and have it ready. I will come myself with a truck and load it all for delivery back up here in the woods. I will put the bottles behind the cab but in front of the stacked wood on the bed of the truck.”

  Bertrand replied, “Dear cousin, it is easy to see the sort of opportunity that you have discovered and that you are pursuing. Are you sure that you personally want to accept the inherent risks in effecting delivery? Why don’t you allow me to hire some local boys to take it up there to you?”

  “It is not so simple,” Jordan responded. “My associates are very cautious and careful and want no one to be aware of the plan. Every additional person that knows of it increases the risk of apprehension. They also want me to prove my commitment to the project by sharing their risk.”

  Bertrand thought in silence for a while then responded, “Both you and they have apparently acquired very capable associates. If your enterprise is discovered, then you all shall undoubtedly sustain a terrible indemnity. If you are determined to pursue this course however, Cousin, then I am committed toward that end to offer whatever assistance that I may have at my disposal to assist in that accomplishment. When will they be needed?”

  “First, find the Cooper and the source for the bottles. I will call you in one week, then twice a week thereafter at this same time until you have found them, and they have committed their price. If you feel it is acceptable, obtain an estimated delivery date as expediently as possible. I will present it to my partners, and if acceptable, will personally bring you the payment for all of it.

  Have them to understand that they will receive one third at the time of solidifying the agreement, then one third when they are half way in completion, then the balance when I come and accept the final delivery after it has been loaded and I am ready to depart back to the woods. I will pay you a commission of twenty percent of the full price, the proceeds of which shall be included at the time of final payment. I am begrudgingly generous, but you are family, and I trust you with my life and your certain ability to accomplish that which must be done.”

  Bertrand laughed, “Your generosity is most appreciated, though for what you ask of me, twenty-five percent would be more near to a fair remuneration. But as you say you are family, and for that reason I shall accept your terms.

  Anyway, it will be fun to participate in your little game and to see whether or not you and your friends are clever enough not to be caught and imprisoned. One final condition, I would like to try a case of your elixir, to know if the taste and the flavor that it possesses will ultimately justify what you are endeavoring to accomplish.”

  Jordan replied, “Tres Biene, Au Revoir.” then hung up the telephone. Jordan was extremely pleased with his relative’s commitment to the terms and requirements of the project. He opened the folding glass doors of the telephone enclosure and carefully moved down the hallway and pressed quickly back into the silent town square toward home.

  Two days later Jordan had his usual weekly rendezvous on the river with Papa and Glen. He reported that he had made an appropriate contact for the needed barrels and bottles with accessories, and that he expected all to be arranged within one to three weeks.

  Glen queried, “Alright, we make the wine, put it into the barrels, then into the bottles. We pack it into the car and move it to New Orleans. What do we do with it then? Sell it off the back of a wagon on the streets?”

  Jordan smiled triumphantly anticipating this question at some point along the way. “As I told you earlier I have sources in the City that have all of the financial capacity, the muscle and the distribution resources to purchase and move as much of the product as we can send, if they are satisfi
ed with the quality and the timeliness of the delivery without complications, and if the price is not unreasonable.”

  Not yet convinced, Glen pursued, “Who are these people and how will we recognize them?”

  Jordan raised an admonishing hand, “All these details will be worked out well in advance of completion of production. The less spoken of it now, the safer it will be for all concerned. Let it be sufficient to say that both parties will have received full communications and advisement in order that each shall know when and where to be at the appointed time. Appropriate signals of identification shall be well rehearsed by both parties before your arrival, along with an understanding regarding the number of bottles of wine to be conveyed and the agreed price contingent, of course, upon customer satisfaction at the time of delivery on-site in New Orleans, or wherever the exchange may occur.”

  “You tell your contacts that we won’t accept anything less than a top price. We have worked too hard and risked too much to accept anything less,” Glen concluded.

  Jordan countered, “That goes without comment. My part in all of this, along with my risks in addition to your own, weigh very heavily upon my being willing to negotiate the absolute maximum for every bottle that is sold. Please give me the consideration of your confidence that all of us will receive everything that can be extracted.”

  Before Glen could reply, Papa quickly stood up and said, “I’m sure that we all are doing our best for the common good.” Jordan looked at Glen, nodded flatly without further comment, mounted Chicago and went up the steep bank to the highway bridge above back to Quitman.

  During the following week, Papa and Glen continued their attendance to the vines and the forest maintaining all of their energies.

  Jordan called his cousin to inquire whether the bottles and other supplies had been delivered, and if the barrels had been purchased and broken by the barrel cooper into staves as directed. Bertrand was happy to report that all had been accomplished and awaited Jordan’s arrival with the truck for loading and transport back to complete the project.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  SOUTHWEST LOUISIANA

  Jordan took his leave from the bank and immediately departed. Bertrand had instructed him to drive on through New Orleans south to Grand Isle and to call upon his arrival for further instructions. After eight and one-half hours, Jordan arrived in Grand Isle. He stopped at a service station and checked the oil, water coolant, tires, and filled the tank with gasoline. He asked for directions to the best local hotel then drove there, went to the front desk, and rented a room paying in advance.

  He telephoned Bertrand and simply stated, “I have arrived at the hotel; what do I do next?”

  Bertrand responded, “I will see you at your hotel within fifteen minutes.”

  Twelve minutes later, Bertrand was at the hotel.

  He went to Jordan’s room and knocked, then entered and embraced his cousin. “I hope that your trip was uneventful and that you have safely arrived.”

  Jordan answered, a touch of sarcasm in his response, “If one doesn’t include the repair of three flat tires on the truck during my trip down here as ‘uneventful,’ then I otherwise feel your assessment is correct and thank you for your concern.”

  Bertrand laughed uncontrollably for what seemed to Jordan to be at least a minute. Jordan waited until the jocular response subsided then flatly said, “The next time I come, you will ride back with me and if any flats occur during the trip, I will enjoy watching you teach yourself how to fix them and even more, listening to your curses as you suffer in the attempt!”

  Still suppressing his laughter, Bertrand said with mocked pity and concern, “My poor relative I am so sorry that you had so much distress during the trip. As I advised before, I wish to refresh your spirits by telling you that the Cooper’s helpers are ready to load your truck and provide all the camouflage of the materials to ensure your safe return home.”

  He continued, “It would give me great pleasure to take you to dinner in one of our fine restaurants, or at least entertain you at home tonight, but I believe it would be safer and more logical for us to save that evening for your return under less surreptitious and more social circumstances.”

  Jordan answered without rancor, “Bertrand, I thank you more than you will ever know for your true expression of love and affection for me. Now I know the true meaning of ‘blood relatives’. When all of this has been completed, I am going to call you and make you meet me in New Orleans, and show you what real gratitude truly means!” With that they embraced again.

  Bertrand then told Jordan, “Let us proceed to your contraband in order that you will be prepared to leave in the morning.”

  Bertrand drove his car ahead of Jordan’s truck into the tortuous trail just outside Grand Isle to a waiting group of men. The truck was quickly loaded with the barrel staves, along with the Cooper’s bands, and the wooden top and bottom slats of the kegs. The men then stacked cordwood upon them all, dispersing the wine bottles imperceptibly beneath, within and in front of the wooden pile, directly behind the driver’s cab just as Jordan had ordered.

  Jordan reached into the glove compartment of the truck and removed an envelope that was distended with cash. He motioned to Bertrand to climb into the cab beside him and carefully counted out the payment as agreed. Then he said, “It would be better if I remained here in town tonight. Follow me to some place where I can leave the loaded vehicle within walking distance from the hotel, then go home. In the morning I will walk back to the truck and drive it to Mississippi. I’m just too tired to go further tonight, especially if I had another flat.”

  Jordan was awake at 4:00 the following morning. He dressed quickly, and then hurried along the empty streets to the truck. It started without difficulty and he drove a considerable distance before the first gray and pink of the morning sky began to appear. He stopped at a small truck stop and cafe, and enjoyed a nourishing breakfast, including three steaming cups of hot, black, chicory laced coffee. He climbed back into the truck and again headed north, through New Orleans, across Lake Ponchartrain then on beyond Slidell, Louisiana. He drove slowly and very carefully, always looking in all directions for any signs of the law.

  Just south of Hattiesburg, he pulled into another small filling station for gas and a coke. He didn’t really need any gas but wanted to make it on to his destination without stopping again.

  The attendant refueled the truck, checked the tires, oil and water, and was cleaning the windshield and rear view mirrors when a black Ford automobile drove up to an adjacent pump. To Jordan’s total dismay, the passenger’s door bore a large star situated upon the Seal of the State of Mississippi, and a set of red and white lights situated upon the roof. A large searchlight was appended to the exterior of the door, just behind the windshield post, and the icon of the Mississippi Highway Patrol. Two uniformed occupants were on the front seat wearing dark glasses. The attendant immediately climbed down from the hood of Jordan’s truck and quickly approached the patrolman’s window.

  Jordan immediately understood the gravity of the situation and a terrifying wave of panic engulfed him. He slid across the bench seat of the vehicle, and he opened the door as carefully as possible. He ducked down to obtain the cover of the other side of the truck then began running in a crouched posture toward the safety and security of the outhouse behind the garage.

  By now, the other policeman had gotten out of the vehicle on the other side and had begun to walk toward the truck and casually inspect its load.

  The driver in the squad car lowered the window when he saw the young attendant approaching then got out of the patrol car and removed his dark glasses. He began to stretch his upper body, and turned just before Jordan reached the corner of the garage building running full out in that ridiculously contorted bodily posture in what seemed to the patrolman to be an obvious attempt to avoid being seen.

  The patrolman yelled out, “Hey you, stop!”

  Still crouched, Jordan broke into an open spr
int and flung open the outhouse door as quickly as possible and dove into the solace within, pulling the door shut and locking it on the inside.

  Infuriated, the officer quickly took up the chase, drawing his sidearm as he approached the privy. Standing to one side, he pulled the door’s handle and found it locked. He banged on the door exterior three times as loudly as he could without hurting his fist and yelled, “You, inside, come out of there with your hands in the air!” He waited for several seconds but heard no response from within.

  The other officer heard the raucous shouts and commands at the outbuilding in the rear of the service station and abandoned his inspection of the truck. He raced to his partner’s aid but halted several feet from his associate when he saw the drawn pistol in his hand.

  “What are you going to shoot in there?” The second policeman inquired, and then continued, “Is there an alligator down in there, or just a big terd?”

  The patrolman’s patience was exhausted, and his partner’s turn at levity did not help. He spoke out with authority once more, “If you don’t come out, I’m going to ventilate this shithouse and you in it. I’m going to count to three!”

  Just as the officer made the sound of his first count, a very weak, frail voice emitted from inside, “I can’t come out with my hands up.”

  Perplexed, the lawman queried, “Why, is there anything wrong with you? You better not be fooling around with me because I have to go in there myself!” As he finished the sentence he suddenly heard a loud report inside the stall. The trooper was extremely nervous and his first impulse was, “My God, he has a gun!”

  Then, he realized that the man had passed an explosive bolus of flatus, followed by pressured grunts and groans as Jordan emptied his bowels into the depths of the trench underneath the outhouse building. He then heard Jordan’s sighs of relief, then the latch released. Jordan called out, “You can come in now.”