NOLA

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NOLA Page 23

by Alexie Aaron


  Peter was frightened and feared whatever had ahold of his arm would pull him in. Mia moved behind him and put her arms around his waist, securing her feet on either side of the priest by jamming her boots half under the heavy desk drawers.

  The priest did as he was told, and another hand followed his out of the water. “It’s got me.”

  “On three, we pull together,” Mia instructed. “One, two, three!”

  Mia threw her weight backwards as the priest pulled with all his might. He closed his eyes under the strain. As he opened them, he saw the crown of a woman’s head break the surface. This gave him the courage for one last pull. He jammed his legs against the desk and threw his weight backwards, pulling at the same time.

  The sound of breaking glass, combined with an unearthly shriek, preceded the priest falling on top of Mia.

  “Thank the Lord, thank the Lord. Oh my god, like, I thought I was, like, gone forever.”

  Mia pushed the exhausted man off her body and scrambled to her feet. She looked down at the priest and offered him a hand up. He declined.

  “Whoa. How did ya, like, know how to get me out?”

  Mia turned in the direction of the young woman’s voice. A spiraled and frosted-haired brunette floated two feet off the ground. Her hair was caught up in a scrunchie in an odd sideways ponytail. She wore a long t-shirt with Joey Lawrence’s picture on it over Bugle Boy acid-washed jeans.

  “I saw the tiny champagne glass on one of your fingers.”

  “I know, it’s the bomb, isn’t it?” Champagne said. “You’re Honor’s little friend, the one with the gay guy.”

  “I’m Mia. That’s Father Peter on the floor.”

  “Oh, I know him, Manicured Nails. When I saw those nails, I knew it was Father Peter.” She floated over him and waved. “Hi, Father. Thanks for the ride up.”

  Still winded, Peter just nodded.

  “Are there any others in there?” Mia asked.

  Champagne nodded. “All the recent souls. I was outsmarted by a handsome junkie named Norm. He said he knew where I could get some spirit flower. He got me up here, and I was, like, no way when I saw that portal. He pushed my face into the water, and something got ahold of my head. I managed to get back up, and then that thing under the bed came at me. I stumbled backwards, and then I was like pudding. I’ve got to, like, get to Honor. She’s probably wacked by now.”

  “Before you go, do you think we can rescue the others?”

  “Don’t know why not. You got to get their attention. They’re too busy being suspicious of each other. Like the girl that came after me, like, she doesn’t want to have anything to do with me. Called me traitor yadda, yadda, yadda, says I pushed her in the water. Like I’d do that. Oh my god, she’s just a little poser.”

  “The soul eater uses the persona of the last soul to lure the next,” Mia informed her.

  “That’s sick. I’ll let Honor know you’re, like, working on the problem. I’m gone.”

  And she was. Mia walked over, pulled the father from the floor and led him to a chair across the room from the desk. Mia walked back to the bed, got on her knees and directed her flashlight under the heavy dust ruffle. “There’s something under there, but it’s not moving,” Mia reported.

  “If I hear the word like again, I’m going to puke,” Father Peter said, holding his head.

  She looked over at him. He didn’t look good. She got up and examined his arms. Long gashes were painful reminders of how Champagne’s nails had dug into them. Mia unbuttoned a pocket and drew out her first aid packet. She smeared Neosporin on the gashes and gently applied gauze pads before she wound more gauze around the pads to secure them. “I’m going to have to put you on the injured reserve list. I need you to act as lookout, and send Murphy in here. I’ve got an idea.”

  Chapter Twenty-one

  Triple P saw Alexei Romanov and the sparkly girl before they saw him. He boldly walked up to them and feigned a drunken attitude. “Yee haw, Alexei old man, so good to be you… to see you,” he corrected. “The party needs another male. The women, they are all over me. Look at me, I’m a toad, and they wind their arms about me, whispering all the things they know I can’t resist.”

  Alexei wasn’t sure where he had met this man before, but he certainly was speaking his language.

  “Excuse me, but Alexei is coming with me,” the girl said, tugging on Alexei’s sleeve.

  He shook her off. “Nonsense, I’m going with…”

  “Triple P. The P’s stand for party party party!” he yelled out.

  “You go, man!” a passerby said, raising two fingers in salute.

  Triple P looked at the girl and sensed her evil intent. If he could just stall her long enough, Father Peter and the little miss from the north may stand a chance on completing their mission. “I say, why don’t you join Alexei and me? That way, he doesn’t go wandering off with a gang of loose women.”

  “Loose women,” Alexei repeated, his eyes dancing. “Lead me to the loose women.”

  Triple P started walking and smiled as he heard the red dress follow them into the cabaret bar.

  ~

  The candle flickered and sputtered as a cool breeze passed over the table. Honor’s eyes opened wide as Champagne hovered above her. Feeling that this was to be her end, Honor turned her palms over in submission and waited for the death blow. Champagne dropped a champagne cork in one of them.

  “Did you miss me?” Champagne asked.

  Puzzled, Honor fingered the champagne cork.

  “Mia said to tell you, like, they are working on the problem. She and Manicured Nails freed me from the soul eater. I think they are, like, going to try to free the others. Whatever you witches are doing here seems to be helping, so keep it up.”

  “I’ve just heard from Champagne!” Honor announced to the others.

  “And…” Candy led.

  “She was freed by Mia and Father Peter. They are going to try to free the other souls. We’re to keep up our vigil. It’s helping.”

  Monique closed her eyes and consulted Mimi. Mimi confirmed Champagne’s story. She had been shadowing the trio, making sure she kept off of the farmer’s radar. She wasn’t sure of his motives. She saw the mark upon the little blonde’s aura and knew that it was made by the axe-carrying ghost. At some time in their relationship, this ghost had given the woman life. She wondered whether she would ever do the same for Monique? She hoped she would never be put into that position.

  “I say, after all is done, I have a case of bubbly that needs drinking,” Honor said. “I’m going to think positive and start chilling it.”

  “Yee haw!” Becky said.

  “Settle down,” murmured Miss Ruby. “They haven’t faced the soul eater yet.”

  The women sat back down.

  Becky reached up in the air and pulled down a dried-up daisy. All but one petal was shriveled and just hanging on. But the petal, that Becky knew was Champagne, was thriving. She laid this next to the candle, saying, “One down, so many more to go.”

  ~

  “No!” Murphy said firmly. “Too dangerous.”

  “I’m telling you it will work,” Mia insisted. “I’m going to OOB over to the bowl, dive in and rustle me up some souls. It’ll be like bobbing for apples,” Mia said with false bravado.

  “I’ll do it.”

  “You’re going to convince these city ghosts to trust a northerner carrying an axe?”

  Murphy frowned.

  “I want you to count to twenty slowly and stick your axe in, and when you feel me tug, you pull back as hard as you can. You’re the only one strong enough.”

  Murphy knew she was right. He also knew when Mia had her mind set on something, you had to go along, either to be helpful or to pick up the pieces later. He watched her climb up on the dusty bed. Before her head hit the bedding, Ralph moved out of her. Murphy dropped his mouth open in surprise.

  Mia’s voice came out of Ralph visage and said, “Trust me on this; I know what I’
m doing.” The persona of Ralph stood on the bed and jumped towards the desk. His aim was as true as the bilocator’s heart. He landed in the bowl and began to slowly sink down.

  Mia didn’t know what to expect once she settled into the bowl. The place was brilliant with light. She had to squint to be able to see Ralph’s hand in front of her. It took a while, but soon she could open her eyes normally. There were so many souls moving around her. They drifted, stopped and then drifted some more. They seemed to have lost the ability to care, let alone fight. Mia bent down and saw the floor was full of a residue she had never seen before, but instinctively, she knew what it was. These were digested souls. There were thousands of them. She looked at the others and wondered why they hadn’t been eaten yet. Did the soul eater stockpile the souls and dine on them later? Or did it need a certain amount stored before it could finish hunting? Either way, Mia was glad. She had the opportunity to save these innocent souls.

  She felt a hand on her arm. She looked over to see a barfly standing there with large saucer eyes.

  “Sir, you don’t belong here. This is a place of evil,” Lone Sal said.

  “You don’t belong here either,” Mia said in Ralph’s voice. “I can get you out of here. All you have to do is hold on to me.”

  “I have a friend,” Lone Sal said, twisting around to see where Amadour had drifted off to. “Over here, Amadour!” she called.

  “All of you are leaving,” Mia insisted and raised Ralph’s voice, “Listen Bitches! I’m getting you all out of here. Come on, form a conga line.”

  They all looked at Mia as if Ralph was nuts. Lone Sal gripped Ralph’s sides and sang out, “Da da da da da daah, people. Come on, Amadour, get the lead out!”

  Mia danced by the flamboyant spirit, and Lone Sal grabbed Amadour and placed his hands on her waist.

  “Da da da da da daah!” Lone Sal sang, “One two three kick,” and kicked a leg out. Amadour forgot his troubles and did the same. “One two three kick, one two three kick.” They moved by the handsome gangster, and the man walked over and put his arms around the, now ecstatic, Amadour.

  The two men chorused Lone Sal’s chant, adding words. “Conga conga everbody conga. Conga conga everbody conga.” Soon all but one spirit took hold. Mia knew she couldn’t stop for the stubborn one. The others might lose interest and drift away.

  Ahead of her, breaking through the blistering white light, was an age-worn axe head. Mia grabbed it with both hands and tugged.

  “Everyone, I want you to wrap your arms around the person in front of you now, and hold on tight,” Mia instructed.

  Murphy felt the tug. He started to slowly lift the axe out, but the weight was too much for him. He planted his feet on the side of the desk and pushed away from the bowl with such force, he ended up embedded in the bookcase. Mia broke free from the water and turned and pulled Lone Sal out. Together they pulled out Amadour. He then helped the gangster, and this continued until the whole conga line was out of the bowl.

  Mia started to go back for the lone man at the bottom, but the other spirits moved in front of the bowl, denying her entrance.

  “He doesn’t want to leave,” Lone Sal testified. The others shook their heads in agreement.

  Mia turned and found Murphy struggling to free himself from Treasure Island and Twenty Thousand Leagues Under the Sea. She took his hand and pulled him to safety. She went back to her body, and the roomful of spirits watched in awe as Ralph lay down and a little blonde woke up.

  Mia stood on the bed and asked, “Who knows the way out of here?”

  “I do!” Lone Sal called out.

  “Take them out of here. Stay away from a woman in a sparkling red dress. If any of you would like to cross over, there is a priest in the courtyard who can help you with that.”

  Mia watched them leave. She looked over at Murphy and shook her head in amazement. “We did it!”

  “Job’s half done,” he said.

  Mia was confused. “Do you mean the mask? I haven’t found it yet.”

  “No, we have to destroy that,” he said, pointing to the bowl.

  “About that…” Mia hedged, “I don’t know how to do it.”

  “Roumain?”

  “He said the original victim’s blood must be returned to him. I have the feeling that guy down there, the one that won’t come up, is Sean, the original victim.”

  ~

  The flower turned with every soul saved. Some petals lifted off the flower and disappeared. No one had to explain what that meant.

  Honor opened her eyes. “There’s still the soul eater to deal with. Concentrate, ladies.”

  ~

  Wanda thanked the members of her group and walked out into the night. She looked heavenwards and said an additional prayer. “I don’t know why this is important, God. But I would like you to intervene on behalf of us poor sinners here in N’awlins. You saved so many of us in Katrina, so I didn’t ask you for anything more until now. Watch over Mia Martin and Father Peter; they are doing your work here. Amen.”

  ~

  Father Peter wiped his brow. The exodus of the trapped spirits was one thing, crossing over the ones seeking a higher ground was another. He smiled, remembering Beverly Cooper’s outrageous behavior. “Line up, ghosts and ghoulies, time for you to talk to Saint Peter,” she said as the light appeared. “Come on, the last bus to heaven is boarding,” she said, moving the lost souls along. The final outrage happened when she smacked the last ghost on the behind, saying, “You better get, your family’s waiting on you.” Tonight he could have done the same. He was tired, and the light was draining him. He thought of earthly delights in order to resist following the last of them into the light.

  He leaned against the wall and prayed for strength. Mia and Murphy must be likewise tired. He included them in his prayers. He thought he heard Wanda’s voice at one point and the sounds of small wheels spinning. Lastly, he heard the drunken warning from Triple P. “Pa pa Peter, I can’t stall them any longer.”

  He directed his thoughts to Mia. She had promised to leave her mind open for him. “INCOMING!”

  “The soul eater is coming. Murph, you need to leave,” Mia said.

  “No.”

  “Alright, your funeral. Wait! Would you agree to hiding?” Mia asked, tapping her temple.

  Murphy smiled slyly and nodded.

  Mia waited until he was settled before continuing to search for the Mardi Gras mask. She felt if she could take it out of the room, the power of the soul eater would dwindle, maybe enough for Mia to get the upper hand. She had already checked the bookcases, the dressers and the bathroom. She found an interesting assortment of collectables that appeared to have been used for everyday things. An Egyptian funerary jar sitting on a shelf by the claw foot tub held bath salts. Mia shook her head and continued her search, pocketing two giant, boring turret shells, large and solid enough to act as spearheads. Mia couldn’t imagine what Albert was using them for in the bathroom. “Wait, bath salts.” She picked up the jar, ran back into the bedroom and poured the salts in a circle encompassing the desk. Murphy moved uncomfortably inside her. “I’m sorry, hold on a while longer.

  She flipped up the bed skirts and prodded the thing under the bed. It was a body alright, but whose?

  “I HEAR THEM COMING. ALEXEI IS WITH THE SOUL EATER AND TRIPLE P IS FOLLOWING.”

  “I expect you heard that, Murph,” Mia mumbled. “Damn, where?” Mia stamped her foot in frustration. She had looked everywhere she could reach. “Wait a feckin’ moment!” Mia trained her flashlight and checked out the four corners where the ceiling and the walls met. She worked her way across the ceiling, and there, nestled among the dusty crystals of the chandelier, sat the mask. “I’m sorry to boot you out, Murph, but I can’t reach it.”

  Murphy moved upward out of Mia’s mind. He floated a moment, readjusting his hand so he could grasp the papier-mâché and glass face mask. He untangled the timeworn ribbons and whistled before dropping the heirloom into Mia’s read
y hands.

  ~

  “But where yah going, Alexei? The night’s young. Lucky Pierre’s floorshow is just about to start. You know those ladies are the best…”

  “Shut up!” Red Dress screamed. “I’m sick and tired of your blathering. I’m taking Alexei to see something exotic, and you’re not welcome.”

  Triple P saw the menace in the girl’s face, but he had to try once more.

  “Alexei, this is the soul eater! She’s got you under a trance. You’ve got to wake up!”

  There was a flicker of understanding on the muddled ghost’s face. He turned to Triple P and started to ask, “Soul…”

  The soul eater reached out and started to tear Triple P’s soul out of his body.

  The shrieks of the pastor’s pains could not cover the roar of wheels approaching at high speed.

  “Coming through, bitch,” Mimi Delarosa said, body slamming the surprised entity.

  The soul eater lost her grasp, and Triple P was whole and in the arms of the best jammer the Memphis Maulers ever had.

  “Sit still, preacher, I’ve got to get you to Monique before you expire.” Mimi picked up speed and managed to catch the back of the Garden District-bound streetcar. She tossed the man on it.

  “But Alexei…”

  “There are others to help Alexei. You, pastor, are out of play.”

  ~

  Monique’s eyes snapped open. “Hurry, we have to get to the streetcar. No time to explain,” the Wiccan said, pushing away from the table and running toward Honor’s front door.

  Candy and Becky followed her.

  Honor located her manservant. “Quick, we have an injured man arriving on the streetcar.”

 

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