Boy, was he ever drunk.
Chapter II
Zeke Anders looked at the digital clock on Jake’s stove. The second the clock turned over to the number six, he was on his feet and barreling up the stairs, where, like some angry drill sergeant, he shouted at the top of his lungs, “Up and at ’em, boys!”
“What the hell!” Jake bellowed. He cracked one eye. “Zeke, what the hell are you doing here? What time is it?”
A voice, cursing ripely, came from down the hall. “Is there a fire? Did the alarm go off?”
“It’s six o’clock, and I’ve been out to the store already, so get your lazy asses in the shower so I can go home to my new digs. I’m too old to be babysitting the likes of you two. And I don’t give a good rat’s ass if you two have the queen mother of all hangovers or not. You play, you pay. How many times did I tell you that, Jake?”
“A thousand. Okay, two thousand,” Jake grumbled as he swung his legs over the side of the bed. He felt like his head was going to spin right off his neck. “Why are you here, anyway?”
“Because that pretty lady at the Eye-talian restaurant asked me to bring you two home. Sweetest lady I ever met. How could I say no? She invited me to lunch. I think she recognized my sterling qualities.”
Jake wanted to laugh when he heard Alex yelling for Zeke to stay away from his mother, but his head hurt too bad.
Thirty minutes later, Jake and Alex trooped into the kitchen. Both looked at Zeke with a jaundiced eye, then they spied the aspirin bottle and the two tall glasses of tomato juice that both knew Zeke had doctored up.
“Now I got things to do and places to go, so tell me right now what the hell got into the two of you last night. And don’t even think about lying to me.”
Jake looked at Alex.
Alex looked at Jake.
Alex shrugged, and Jake licked at his lips.
“Okay, let’s hear it!”
Jake was like a runaway train as he repeated everything just the way he’d told it to Alex the night before. Then he took a deep breath and swallowed the tomato juice in one long gulp. Alex did the same.
“And your game plan is . . .”
“When our heads clear up, we’re going to New Orleans, to the Garden District, so I can kill Clement Trousoux. Alex is my lawyer; he’s going to make sure I don’t go to jail. Then I’m going to get a dog. After that, I’m coming back here to chill out,” Jake said, a wild look in his eyes.
“It sounded like a good plan last night,” Alex mumbled.
Jake looked at the dozen or so jelly doughnuts sitting on the table. He plucked one off the plate and jammed it into his mouth. “It’s still a good plan,” he blustered. “Why aren’t you saying anything, Zeke?”
“Because I’m speechless, that’s why. I knew you boys were drunk, but I didn’t think you were that drunk. There’s nothing worse than a stupid drunk. Especially one I helped raise. Dumb shits. Both of you are dumb shits,” Zeke repeated, to make sure the two of them got it.
Jake had the grace to look ashamed. As did Alex.
“Dammit, Zeke, don’t you even care about all that other stuff I just told you about? My mother, Jonah, how they both lied to me all my life? I don’t have anyone now. I wanted a brother all my life, and I thought I had one. Now, I’m this... this orphan!”
“Oh, boohoo,” Zeke said. “You’re all growed up, son. So you got dealt a body blow unlike anything you ever experienced. You deal with it and move on. Your mother was human, just like the rest of us. I’d say she did one fine job of raising you. That’s what counts in the end. Right now, though, I’m thinking she wouldn’t be all that proud of you. As for Jonah, let me play devil’s advocate here. Can’t say I wouldn’t have done the same thing. You see, Jake, you just never know how it’s going to play out until you’re standing in that pair of shoes, because Jonah is human, too. I’m sure he has regrets. You even said he did. Think about this. Jonah got his revenge, but what good did it do him? He was still estranged from your mother, his wife. His life was... hell, you know what his life has been like. I don’t think the man has had a happy day in his whole entire life since all that went down. You need to think about that, too. So Jonah broke just about every bone in that skunk’s body for having his way with your mother. Who did that help? No one is the answer, except that Clement what’s-his-name was crippled for life. He didn’t even know about you until Jonah told him. Had he known, he might have done something, come forward, tried to make it right. I’m thinking if someone damn near killed me, I’d stay as far away from that person as I could get. What I’m saying here, Jake, is you just don’t know, and because you don’t know, you can’t go off half-cocked and do something that’s going to ruin the rest of your life.”
Alex was still in his mumbling mood. He reached for one of the sugary doughnuts. “He has a point, Jake.” At least that’s what Jake thought he said.
“Finish up, boys. Then we can go back to the Sizzler to pick up your vehicle, Jake. And if you still want to go to see that man, I’ll drive you. But only if you can contain yourselves and commit no violence. I don’t have a problem with your confronting him. I also don’t have a problem with your asking him what he has to say. So, what’s it going to be?”
Jake looked across the table at Alex, who shrugged, meaning whatever you want to do is okay with me.
“Okay, let’s hit it, then,” Jake said, getting up from the table. “By the way, Zeke, thanks for bringing us home last night.”
“Yeah, thanks. How pissed was my mother?” Alex asked.
“That’s between you and her, son. C’mon now, time is money, as Ben Franklin said. Didn’t rightly know that he was in the oil business.”
Jake and Alex followed Zeke out of the house like two errant puppies following their big, strong leader, and got into Alex’s car.
Forty-five minutes later, Zeke pulled into a gas station. “Just out of curiosity, do either one of you two geniuses have the address to where we’re going? I can’t be sure of this, but I don’t think the man is in the phone book.”
“We can ask when we get to the Garden District,” Jake said. “Someone is sure to know where he lives.”
Alex whipped out his cell phone. “Hold on—keep driving, Zeke. I know how we can get it.” He called his office and issued orders like he knew what he was doing. Ten minutes later, his cell phone rang. He listened and said, “Got it. Thanks, Nick.”
“You actually got it?” Zeke said, sounding impressed.
“Pays to have friends in the tax office. Everyone has to pay taxes on their property.” He handed the phone to Jake and told him to type the address into the GPS.
No more than fifteen minutes had gone by when Jake heard the robotic voice on the GPS instruct Zeke to make a turn off St. Charles Avenue onto Prytania Street. Zeke followed the instructions and pulled to the curb. All three men got out and gawked at the beautiful mansion set back from a lush lawn and exquisite shrubbery and early-autumn flowers.
“This guy needs a shuttle service from here to the front door,” Zeke observed. “I know who this family is—they’re in banking, and they were big in the slave trade back in the day. I read up on this at one time. I even took the tour with a lady I was seeing at the time. The lady was more into architecture than she was into me. Come along, boys. Let’s get this show on the road. You rehearsing what you’re going to say, son?”
“I’m going to play it by ear, Zeke. Relax, I am not going to kill the son of a bitch.”
“If you change your mind, I know I can get you off,” Alex said as he rubbed his temples. “Damn, this is the worst headache I’ve ever had.”
“Serves you right,” Zeke snapped, showing the young lawyer no mercy.
Zeke was the only one huffing and puffing when Jake banged a monster lion’s-head door knocker. Even he stepped back when he heard the overly loud sound inside the house.
The door was opened by a little maid in a gray uniform and white apron with a little hat of some kind on top of
her curly hair.
Alex stepped forward. “Alexander Rosario, attorney-at-law, to see Mr. Clement Trousoux.”
“Is Mr. Trousoux expecting you? He didn’t say anything about early-morning visitors.”
“Actually, no. Judge Spindler sent me. I mean us. We don’t have a lot of time, so if you’d just direct us to where we can speak with the senator, I would appreciate it. I’m due back in court.”
“Oh my, that does sound serious. Follow me. The senator is taking his morning coffee in the solarium.”
Alex grinned and winked at Jake, who scowled at him.
Jake didn’t know what he had expected, but the shriveled, wizened man sitting in a huge chair wasn’t it. A walker, a cane, and a wheelchair stood nearby. A television set was on, but the man himself was staring off into space with a coffee mug clasped in both hands.
“Mr. Trousoux, these gentlemen are here from the court. Shall I bring fresh coffee, sir?”
Clement Trousoux looked up at his guests. Jake saw the milky white cataract on his right eye. He stared long and hard and was relieved to see that he didn’t bear much resemblance to the man in the big chair. At least he didn’t think so. Thank God he took after his mother’s side of the family.
Zeke waved the maid off, declining the coffee, then shut the door behind her. He thought twice before he snapped the lock.
Trousoux looked up at the three imposing-looking men. “Isn’t it a little early in the morning to come calling?”
“Alex Rosario, attorney-at-law,” Alex said. “These two gentlemen are my... associates. Zeke Anders and Jake St. Cloud.”
Jake saw the crippled body stiffen in the big chair. “Well now, that’s a name I recognize. You here to finish the job for Jonah?”
“I’d like to, but no, that’s not why we’re here,” Jake said through clenched teeth.
“Then why are you here? I was having a nice day till you showed up,” the old man said coldly.
“I just want some answers. Give them to me, and we’ll leave,” Jake said, trying to control the rage he was feeling.
“In order to get answers, you have to ask the questions. Go ahead and ask. Doesn’t mean I’ll answer them. I do have a question of my own first, though. Did Jonah send you here?”
“No. I came on my own, with Alex and Zeke. I didn’t find out... about you until yesterday. I would have come sooner had I known.”
There was silence from the big chair. A bony hand reached over to the remote, and the soft voices on the television morning show were reduced to silence.
“Why? I guess that’s the question of the day,” Jake said.
To his credit, the man in the big chair made no pretense of not understanding what he was being asked. “It was a long time ago. Selma was my first love, and I did love her. When she told me she was breaking off our relationship because she had met this... man who, she said, made her blood sing, I was devastated. The man was Jonah St. Cloud. I couldn’t believe it at first because there was no bloodline there that was... acceptable to me. In the end, I had to accept it because that’s what a man does under such circumstances. A year went by, and I heard through friends that Selma was engaged to be married. I almost killed myself when I heard that. I thought, hoped, she’d come to her senses and want me back. It didn’t happen.”
“What did happen?” Alex asked before Jake could get the words out of his own mouth.
“A week or so before the wedding, Selma called me and asked me to come by. I was so sure there was going to be a reconciliation. I didn’t sleep for days. I was worse than any woman choosing what to wear—I got a haircut, the whole nine yards. My father, a very wise old man, tried to talk to me, as did my friends. They didn’t want me to get my hopes up, then crash if the meeting turned out to be something other than what I was hoping for. Needless to say, I didn’t listen.”
For one crazy moment, as Jake looked at the man sitting in the big chair, he knew somehow that the senator was dying. He wished he’d stayed home. Suddenly he didn’t want to hear what his father was going to say.
“Anyway, Selma greeted me cordially. We talked about silly things, she asked how I was, banal conversation. All I wanted to do was take her in my arms, pledge my undying love, and kiss her until we both passed out. She said she appreciated my coming over and that she just wanted to see me to make sure she wasn’t making a mistake in marrying Jonah. I don’t think she had any idea what those words did to me. I knew by the look on her face, the joy in her eyes, that Jonah, not me, was the one and only one for her. I went crazy. I forced myself on her. Whether you believe me or not, I have no clear recollection of what happened after that. What I do remember clearly, however, was how hard she was crying and her saying when I left that she would never, ever forgive me. So, yes, I am guilty of . . .”
“Raping my mother?” Jake said through clenched teeth.
“At the time I didn’t see it that way, but yes, that would be the truth. I went back to school and went on a binge drinking spree. I lived in fear that Selma would tell Jonah, and he would come and kill me. Actually, I wanted to kill myself, but that’s neither here nor there. The wedding went off as scheduled. The happy couple went off on a honeymoon and returned to set up housekeeping, as they say. Life went on. For them. Not for me.”
“Until?” Zeke said.
“After your third birthday, Selma told Jonah that he was not your father. Then she told me about you. But she warned me that if Jonah ever found out who I was, he might kill me, so I should please, please, stay away and not try to see you. For years, I lived in fear of what Jonah would do.
“And then, years later, about six months after Selma died, Jonah paid me a visit in Washington. It was the year I became chairman of the Senate Judiciary Committee. I was at home, putting some books on a shelf, when he walked in. No one was there but me, and when I saw him lock the door, I knew what was coming. I wanted to die. I really did.
“Jonah pulled out a picture of you. It was a Polaroid shot of you opening your birthday presents. He threw it at me and said how he wanted me to see you the day he learned that you were not his son, the day he lost everything he cared about in his life.
“I was so intent on what he was saying, looking at the picture of you at the age of three, that I didn’t care about anything else. He damn near beat me to death, and I didn’t defend myself. What I did was cry like some sniveling little pantywaist. I took the beating because I deserved it. All I asked was that, at some point, I would get to meet you. Before I blacked out for the last time, Jonah bent down and said that if I ever tried to see you, get in touch with you, he would... he would . . .”
The three men stared at Trousoux as each of them tried to imagine the beating the man had undergone.
“What did he threaten you with?” Jake asked.
“He said he would... kill you. Mother of God, I believed him. That’s why I never tried . . .”
Jake drew a deep breath. He moved then and placed his hands on the arms of the big chair. He leaned so close, his nose almost touched Trousoux’s. “The question at the moment is, did you want to get in touch with me?”
“What kind of stupid question is that, young man? Of course I did. I went to as many of your high-school football games as I could, and every one of your college football games your freshman year at LSU. But I couldn’t take the risk that Jonah meant what he said.
“I will go to my grave loving your mother. How could I risk his killing her son—my son?
“Do you see that big, battered steamer trunk in the corner? It belonged to my grandfather. That’s what I’m leaving you in my will; that and nothing more. In case you haven’t figured it out yet, I’m dying. I’m on borrowed time right now. According to my doctors, I should have been pushing up daisies this past Easter. I’m still here but not for long. I’m tired now. If there’s nothing else, I’d like to be left in peace.
“Oh, there is one more thing. When your mother was in the hospital, I went to see her. More than once, actuall
y. She said she forgave me. We had long, comfortable conversations. She had mixed feelings about the situation, but she was heavily medicated. She told me that Jonah knew that he was not your father but that she had never told him who was. One minute she wanted you to know the truth, then the next minute, she didn’t. She made me promise not to tell you until after she was gone. And she said it would be all right with her if I took the secret to my grave. She was so guilt-ridden.
“And she never, never stopped loving Jonah. That was the day I finally accepted that she hadn’t loved me at all. So many lies. So much unhappiness. From everything I’ve seen and read about you, it appears you have a good life. The whole state, my state that I’ve worked to serve all my life, appreciates all you’ve done for our people.” A second later, the man’s head drooped, and he was sound asleep.
Jake knuckled his eyes and turned to leave. Alex had unlocked the door and was holding it open. They let themselves out, but not before Zeke commented on the one-of-a-kind marble staircase that held absolutely no interest for either Jake or Alex.
“Anyone feel like talking?” Zeke asked.
“I’m talked out,” Alex said, climbing into the backseat of his own car so Zeke could drive.
“I need to think,” was all Jake could come up with.
“Next stop, the Sizzler, boys,” Zeke said.
Jake’s emotions were all over the map on the ride to the Sizzler, where he picked up his truck. He didn’t know what he felt when Alex wrapped his arms around him in the parking lot and said, “It’s going to be okay, Jake. I just feel it.”
Zeke clapped Jake on the shoulder, then looked him in the eye. “This ain’t the end of the road, son. You need to think of it as going around a bend with miles and miles of highway still to be traveled. Don’t you go doing nothing stupid, you hear me? I don’t want you making me ashamed of you. You listening to me, Jake?”
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