Kiss of Noir

by Clara Nipper

  “Nora’s moving on, Papa,” Sayan said tenderly, using the endearment to soften the news.

  “The hell you say,” Drew sputtered. Sayan squared her shoulders and returned to the house.

  Drew stared at me, his eyes like black fire. He spat on the ground. “Fool!” he yelled, then stomped back inside.

  I collapsed into the chair again. “That went well,” I said, wishing I had just sneaked out of town. I sat there, watching the stars, listening to that lonesome bird, until sunrise.

  Chapter Thirty-One

  I left that day, in the late afternoon. I packed my trusty Wagoneer and got a thermos of strong chicory coffee and a huge shrimp po’ boy from Sayan.

  “If it’s a girl, I’ll name her Nora,” Sayan said, smoothing her shirt over her stomach.

  “Stop it, Sayan; you’re killing me. Whatever you do, don’t name her Nora.” I bent and put my cheek against Sayan’s belly.

  I wrung Drew in a hard hug. He only glared at me. Ellis walked me to my car. “Take care,” he said, shrugging.

  “You too.” I smiled. My throat hurt. I was saying good-bye to the sweetest time I had ever known. And I could yet have it. I could still change my mind and stay. I could keep everything and just settle into this happy place. I was leaving a ready-made life with a built-in family and loving community. Why? I didn’t know and knew it didn’t matter why. I just understood and accepted that I had to do this.

  “Don’t be a stranger.”

  “I won’t.”

  “I’ll be practicing my game. I’ll kick your ass yet, nigga.” Ellis smiled, his eyes shining.

  “Then you better quit your job and practice.”

  We hugged. When it was over, Ellis gripped my shoulder. “Don’t do anything foolish,” he said, willing me to comprehend.

  “Not me,” I answered, both of us knowing I was on my way to New Orleans to find Julia.

  “Need this?” Ellis presented a .38 from his pocket.

  “Yeah, maybe.” I slipped it into my back pack. “The mosquitoes down here are fierce.”

  “Well, I’ll see ya.” Ellis slowly walked back to his home.

  “See ya, Hambone,” I said. I drove away, willing myself not to look back. I drove to the cemetery where Cleo was laid out in his aboveground tomb. The stone was obscene with new shine. I got out and stared at the stone until my eyes watered. I sat on the ground and stayed there until sunset. I got in my car, put it in gear, and as I saw Bayou La Belle D’eau receding in my rearview mirror, I was in shock and heartsick at making this move, scared about what lay ahead, and clueless about where to go after New Orleans, but I had to move on. All the emotions were only that. The truth of my needing to leave was incontrovertible. I breathed deeply as I drove, forgetting to smoke or drink.

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  Once in New Orleans, I didn’t bother with a hotel, but I drove straight to the cemetery where I had fucked Julia, and parked on the street. I locked my vehicle and took off toward the Quarter on foot, following my instincts about where to find what I was looking for. Finally, a chord struck my memory and I slowed to a walk, discovering, at last, the bar where I had met Julia before our last date.

  Dumbfounded, I stared in, seeing Julia perched on that same stool, drinking and chatting up some poor stupid bastard next to her.

  I entered, walked up to her, and wedged in between Julia and the slob. “’Scuse me, dog,” I said to him, then to Julia, “Where have you been, baby? I’ve been at the boneyard with my knife all night. Don’t do me this way.”

  “Say, the lady and I were talking,” the man started.

  “Pipe down. She’s a friend of mine and we need to talk,” Julia snapped.

  “She?” The man looked me up and down. His lip curled with distaste. “Oh.”

  “Shove off, man. She needs me,” I said as I took the man’s bar stool.

  “Well, well, well, little Nora, come to call. What brings you here?” Julia was cool and flirtatious.

  “I hear you’re long gone.”

  “Nobody but you looks for me here. Ever think of becoming an investigator?” Julia winked.

  I signaled the bartender and ordered a Guinness. “Just missed you, darlin’,” I replied after taking a big swig and grimacing.

  Julia grinned. “Of that, I have no doubt. I am frankly surprised I haven’t seen you sooner.”

  “Well, you know.” I licked my lips. “Been busy.”

  “Mmm-hmm.” Julia batted her crossed eyes. “Me too.”

  Rage sent a thin tendril of red vapor up my throat. I touched Ellis’s gun, warmed by my body and feeling good and solid. “Nice jewelry.”

  “Ha, ha, these old things?”

  “What’s a nice girl like you doing in a place like this?”

  Julia held up her glass to signal for a refill. “Let’s get to the point, shall we?”

  “Why don’t you tell me what that is?”

  “Payne did it. She did it because I told her to.”

  “She shot him?” I thought of Payne’s swivelly hips, her loopy grin, and the gun in her glove box. “Payne did not do it. You think I’m a moron?”

  “Shot? Are you mad? I thought you were talking about the jewel switch.”

  “Why would she do anything at all for you?”

  “Oh, she owes me.”

  “Why?”

  “I can’t imagine why you’re interested in all this. What a bore.” Julia tapped my tobacco pouch, indicating she wanted me to roll her one. I rolled two. I reflected on the version Payne had given me when she visited me at the New Orleans Hotel Royale.

  Payne sat, straddling a chair, while I spread out like an X on the hotel’s dingy, broken-down bed.

  Before Payne arrived, I had been lying down, studying Julia’s business card, thinking of revenge, and Payne’s unexpected visit did not surprise me as I was persistently drunk. When Payne appeared in the open doorway, I dropped the card to the floor, sat up, and invited Payne to sit. I took a huge gulp of gin straight from my bottle and didn’t offer Payne any until she wrested it from my grip and tipped the bottom to the ceiling.

  She wiped her mouth with her arm, handed back the bottle, and sighed. “What are you doing holed up in this dump, you loser?”

  “You want to lecture me? Get in line.” I gestured to the hallway.

  “Why? Who else?”

  “Nobody, just get in line and outta here.”

  “Funny. Listen, Nora…”

  “Quit with that mess. You can stay and drink, but nothing else.”

  Payne held up her hands. “Fine. You are grown. Hey, what’s this?” She picked up the card.

  The sounds of an argument on the street drifted up through the windows. Boat-tailed grackles mocked and laughed from the trees.

  I stared at my fingers that were moving lazily like seaweed underwater. “Just some strange I met one night.”

  “You mean you had sex?” Payne grinned, handing the card back to me.

  “Sho ’nuff. Or should I say, sho muff?”

  Payne laughed. “Oh, man, oh, man.”

  I rolled to my side, facing Payne. “What?”

  “That woman’s like a randy poodle looking for a table leg.”

  “You know her too?”

  “Know her? She brought me out.”

  I laughed. I cocked a bleary eye on Payne. “How many days ago?”

  “Four thousand four hundred fifty-five,” Payne replied. “I met her when I was working my way through college. She came in, everyone knew who she was. She was rich and bitchy. She was garish, like a Las Vegas showgirl gone crazy with Home Shopping Network jewelry that she put on every available surface.”

  “She hasn’t changed.”

  “But we struck up a friendship and she seduced me. Kissing her is like kissing the devil. But I love it.”

  “You still date?”

  “Sure. When I’m between engagements.”

  “Scuzz.”

  “Julia is what you call rapacious. So
I stepped up and took care of it. Or tried. Damn, she was a sexual bottomless pit.”

  “So to speak.”

  “Ha ha. She was dependent on me. She was like a clinging vine, strangling me every minute my mouth wasn’t actually between her legs.”

  “You treated her badly?” I knew the answer.

  “Of course. What else could I do? She was needy and she took it and begged for more. I treated her as well as she deserved.”

  “You’re a prince.”

  “You would’ve done the same.” Payne punched my leg. “You probably have.”

  I grimaced and drank.

  Payne stood. “Well, I came to get you outta your little rat hole. What say we go out and get our tongues pierced?” She stuck out her tongue and laughed.

  I ran my tongue around the inside of my mouth, imagining a heavy silver stud there. “Shit, that would slow me down.”

  “How about a tattoo, then?”

  “Not drunk enough,” I replied, tipping the bottle to my lips again.

  “We’ll take care of that. Come on, brown sugar.”

  That’s when I pierced my ears and got my tattoos. Payne had been so drunk she had her clit pierced and then passed out on my floor, snoring ripely.

  My memory receded and I was back in the fern bar with Julia. “Tell me why she owes you,” I said, holding the cigarette like a reward a few inches from Julia’s lips. Julia shrugged, closing her juicy, lacquered mouth around the cigarette.

  “I met Payne long, long ago…” Julia began.

  “Why don’t we move to a booth?” I smiled, picking up both of our drinks. “Cozier.”

  Julia shrugged and followed.

  When we settled, I prompted, “You met Payne long ago.” I puffed hard on my cigarette.

  “Ah, yes. I’ve known her for a hundred years. She was just a puppy. She was in college and working her way through LSU. What a dear. She was such a cute young thing, as delectable as dessert and twice as sweet. We struck up a friendship and it got so she would just do anything for me.” Julia grinned, sipping her drink.

  “So you met her when she was a dealer in a casino while you gambled your husband’s money. You blinded her with your voracious cunt,” I amended. “Continue.”

  Julia giggled, squeezing my thigh. “You do understand me, Nora. I like that.”

  “Get on with it,” I snarled, not wanting to agree with how well I comprehended crazy women. They were, with all their unpredictability, volatile personalities, danger and lust, as clean and easy as a road map to me.

  “Well, we were associates for several years.”

  “Pussy partners.”

  “And when she graduated a full-fledged engineer, I gave her a rec and she began working for one of my husband’s companies.”

  “You bullied him into giving her a job she didn’t deserve and you two continued your nasty affair.”

  Julia tittered. “Oh, how you do prattle. I taught her all I know.”

  “That should’ve taken about, what,” I said, rolling a cigarette. “Fifteen minutes?”

  “Step lightly,” Julia said, and although she was pleasant, her teeth showed. Her cigarette had gone out because she had merely played with it. She held it out to me and pulled a pouty face so I would relight it. As I was doing so, Julia continued. “Payne attends all the company functions, so I make sure I’m there too. The Christmas party is the best. To this day, I soak my drawers just smelling a pine tree.”

  I laughed in spite of myself. “The sweetest panty pudding ever, I’m sure. Is that a yeast infection or are you just glad to see me?”

  “You know it,” Julia said and then her voice went silken. “You remember.” She stroked my arm.

  “Get your demon hands off me. I don’t even know why I’m here. I must be insane.”

  “You’re here because you want to know why. And because you’re angry,” Julia said, hanging on my shoulder and blowing into my ear. “The eternal downfall of the weak and the good. Pursuit of why.” She chuckled. “Well, I can’t help you understand, but I can help you with your big, black cock.”

  “Back off, skank. My cigarette comes closer to getting me off than you would.”

  “Even hell doesn’t have as much fire as I do when I’m refused.”

  I faced her, utterly unimpressed. “I fuck who and when I want. And that’s a short list right now and you ain’t even a runner-up.”

  Julia ignored this and caressed my shoulder with the new tattoos. “Who’s Max?”

  “Someone long dead,” I lied to keep Julia’s dirty fingers off the topic.

  “And she broke your heart, so now you wear her name as a scar of honor. How precious.” Julia clapped.

  “Shut up, bitch.” Julia threw the rest of her drink in my face. I stared at her, exasperated. “You ruined a perfectly good smoke. Now what do you want?”

  “You know what,” Julia said, her eyes blazing.

  “No.” I grinned. “Suppose you tell me?”

  “Suppose you take a wet and wild guess?”

  I dropped her soggy cigarette to the table. “I won’t.”

  “Fuck me,” Julia breathed, her hips wriggling in her seat and her bosom heaving.

  I looked her over and let my mind wonder about it. First, I would refuse to kiss her. I would grab a fist full of Julia’s hair, force her to stand and then push her down to all fours.

  “Get down there on the bar floor like the dog you are and lick my boots,” I would tell her.

  Julia, panting, eyes sparkling and round rump high in the air, would bend to comply.

  “No.” I would step away. “First take off your skirt and panties. Not your blouse and bra, just expose your bitch parts. And lick me clean. I’ve been in the Quarter.”

  Julia, scowling, would hesitate. I would cup my own crotch and wag my finger. Julia would whip off her clothes and put her mouth on my boots. I, in spite of my grief and rage, always enjoyed seeing eager ass wagging in the air, aching, waiting…

  While Julia licked hard and fast, I would bend over her soft big butt and slap as hard as I could. Julia would cry out, but would keep working. I would continue to hit her, enjoying the sight and the sound. “You finish too fast, you won’t get any.” Julia whimpered and slowed her bobbing head. “No. I’m not going to. Not this time,” I said almost to myself. “I’m different now.” I dropped my hands and stepped over the whimpering figure of Julia. “Get up. Dress your sorry ass. I never want to smell you again.” I strode away, my head high, my heart thumping. My fantasy dissolved. I was in the booth with Julia.

  Julia still stared at me, waiting for my inevitable assent. I had to unstick my tongue from the roof of my mouth. “Nope, hot pants, you’ve gotta find another damn fool to mess with you.” I swallowed the damp washcloth lodged in my throat. I felt Julia’s drink dripping from my jaw and drying sticky around my eyes. “I’ll never be that desperate again.” The images of Cleo, Ellis, Sayan, and Drew gave my lustful jellybones strength. “You’re pure poison. You’re garbage and I’ll never dabble with a trashy slut like you again.” Just then I knew I wouldn’t kill Julia or even hurt her. The last time I hugged Ellis before I left, I could smell the clean scent of healing on him already. I wanted that too. I was tired of dirt and squalor and filth and games and bad decisions.

  Julia’s face blanched and tightened. Her crossed cat’s eyes smoldered with scorned shame. She left the booth and the bar without another word.

  “Guess I’m buying the drinks,” I said to myself and shrugged, ignoring my trembling hands. I sat for another half an hour, lost in a tipsy trance, finishing my own Guinness. Finally, I dabbed my face with the tiny, sodden bar napkin. I paid and left, walking quickly to my car, still with no idea what I was doing or where I was going.

  Three men stepped out of the mouth of an alley, blocking my way. I could just see my car less than a block away.

  “Hey, guys. I don’t want any trouble.” I held up my hands and tried to sprint away. They grabbed me and dragged m
e deep into the alley without a sound. One took my gun.

  “You want money? Credit cards? I’ll give you my wallet and my watch. C’mon now, this ain’t cool.”

  One punched me in the stomach, causing me to double over the sudden knot of agony. All my Guinness came up and splashed on the man’s shoes.

  “Quiet,” the man said, impervious to the vomit.

  Heels echoed in a slow staccato. I turned and saw Julia. She was grinning and smug. She leaned against the wall and very slowly and deliberately removed a cigarette from her purse, lit it, and exhaled.

  “Oh, my God, you filthy cooze! All this because I wouldn’t fuck you? Come on!”

  “I warned you, Nora. You’re a worthless, uppity nigger and you need to be brought down a few notches.” Julia dropped the partly smoked cigarette and ground it beneath her expensive shoes. “I’m going to have pleasure tonight one way or another. And this way will be just fine.” Julia shrugged, smiling.

  “You’re gonna kill me too? Just like you did Cleo?”

  One thug clopped my ear, hard. I dropped to the ground, hearing the ocean and shaking my head. I remained on my knees, knowing if I stood, I would only be knocked down again.

  “Cleo?” Who the hell is Cleo?” Julia demanded. The sacred name should’ve burned her infidel tongue.

  “My uncle. You went to the pawn the night of the storm and shot him because you thought he was Ellis. Don’t you read the papers?”

  “I don’t read the papers, I am in the papers.”

  “So you did it, didn’t you? Tell me before I get the shit kicked out of me.”

  “No, I didn’t.”

  “That’s a damn lie.”

  Julia dismissed me. “Okay, boys. Beat her ass. Make it good. I am urgent hungry tonight.” She crossed her legs at the ankle and her arms at her bosom as if waiting for the theatre.