“I can’t do this,” I said. “I… I just can’t do this.”
She came up next to me and put her arm around my shoulder. It wasn’t cold, it wasn’t scary, it just felt like a caring friend comforting me. I could actually feel my fear subside as she touched me.
“Don’ think too much about it right now. You can’t let it get to you. The time’ll come to face these things but don’ dwell on ‘em ahead of time. Don’ borrow trouble. You gotta take it all one thing at a time or you won’t get through it, it’ll overwhelm you. An’ trust me, you’ll get stronger an’ stronger the further into the game that you go. Follow your instincts an’ stick with your guts and do like I’m tellin’ you. Stay alert an’ do your best to think on your feet. Things are gonna get real bad, that’s true enough, but if you don’ take it as it comes, one thing at a time, you’ll get paralyzed with fear and then you won’t stand any chance at all.”
When I looked into her eyes, she smiled warmly at me. I felt as if she were trying to give me some of her courage.
“I’m really not the right person for this job,” I told her.
“You are. If you wasn’t, he wouldn’t have chose you.”
“What should I do now?”
She stroked my hair tenderly, as if I were a child. She suddenly looked very old, very sad and very tired. There were tears in her eyes. She whispered, “It’s time for you to go now. It’s time to get started.”
“Where do I start?” I found myself whispering as softly as she was.
She pointed to the to the flyer on the table that Marcus had given me.
“Get your things now.” she said. She seemed almost as reluctant to send me to this task as I was to go on it.
I walked into the bedroom and did as I was told, silently slipping on my loafers and stuffing my money, keys, I.D. into my jeans pockets. I came out, picked up the leaflet and stuck that in as well.
“I feel like I’ve known you forever now,” I whispered in her ear as I hugged her goodbye.
“Me too, darlin’. Good luck. I wish there was more I could do to help you, but there ain’t. Just remember, don’ ever, ever take off that necklace and don’ ever drink anything that comes from her. Not even the tiniest drop.”
“The guy, your friend, he said something about a fall. What did he mean?”
“It’s just that you need to prepare yourself for…” Her eyes filled with fear as her voice trailed off. She looked around nervously, as if she had just heard a burglar in the house and was now straining to hear the noise again.
“For what? Prepare myself for what?” I begged her. I needed to hear her explanation. “Tell me, please!”
“She’s close, real close,” Virginia said, whispering so low that could barely hear her.
“Tell me, please,” I implored again.
“Prepare yourself for the fall, so you don’…” The sound of her words was the first thing to disappear as she mouthed her answer to me in silence. I couldn’t make out what she was trying to say but could only watch as she lost density. Rapidly becoming more and more transparent, she soon disappeared altogether as I stared in disbelief.
Now that she was gone I felt even less sure of myself now than I had just a few moments ago, especially since I had not been able to make out her last instructions to me. The only thing I was sure of was that I had a dangerous task facing me that I had to begin now. I opened the door to leave, turning around to take one last look at the apartment. I felt suddenly deserted and wondered if I’d ever see her or the apartment ever again after tonight. Lonely, confused and afraid, I stepped out of the door, passed through the courtyard and exited the gate. Night had already fallen as I left the house on Toulouse Street to begin the game in earnest.
CHAPTER SIX
In no particular hurry to meet my fate, it took me a long time to get to Bourbon Street, which by now had already become, for all intents and purposes, a gigantic street party. I knew where I had to go tonight, having memorized the address for The Crypt, but I still kept the flyer in a back pocket in case I needed it to get in the door. Once on Bourbon, I meandered around the street for a long time because I couldn’t force myself to go directly to my destination; I was too afraid of what I’d find when I got there. Each step I took filled me with greater and greater anxiety, causing my resolve and courage to fade in direct proportion to my proximity with The Crypt. I was feeling increasingly overwhelmed by the task that lay ahead of me. On the one hand I wished that I knew exactly what it was that I was getting into, but on the other hand if everything was as bad as Virginia said it was, maybe it was a good thing that I didn’t. Sometimes there was such a thing as too much information and I had a feeling that this was one of those times. If I were aware of everything that was in store for me, I would most likely want to ditch this whole effort, go home despite all the warnings, take to my bed and just die quietly, if death were indeed inevitable. There were far worse things in the world than leaving this earth in the comfort of one’s own bed and I had a horrible, sinking feeling that I was going to find out first hand exactly what they were.
The Bourbon Street party was something that I’d always enjoyed whenever visiting the city during my college years; but tonight the reveling mass served only to make me more anxious than I already was. The movements of the crowd were too fast, everything seemed too colorful, too animated. Faces were coming at me and then going again. I could feel sweat breaking out on my forehead and in the palms of my hands. I wasn’t in the midst of a panic attack, yet but I could feel one coming on and I could tell that, if it actually did get hold of me, it was going to be a doozie. A drink. I needed a drink. No, that would do no good. I needed lots of drinks to calm me down tonight. But I knew I needed to keep my wits about me, so one would have to do the job. I crossed a side street at an ebb in the human river, stopping off at a Hurricanes-to-Go place and ordered a Hurricane in a plastic cup. Walking a few more steps, I found a relatively calm niche in which to stand, closed my eyes for a few seconds, took a few deep breaths, and started sipping it. Here in my quiet spot, surrounded by the not always pleasant smell of seafood and booze, I was able to observe the human drama passing before me without having to be in the thick of it. I felt easier being on the sidelines. The crisp Autumn air felt good in my lungs and I was grateful with each breath that this was late October and I had been spared the stifling humidity that beset the city so much of the year. It really was an unusually perfect night. A cool front must have blown in today. Under normal circumstances, I would have found a nice seat by an open window inside a club and spent hours listening to music and people-watching. The lightness and energy that Fall brought to inhabitants and visitors alike made the Crescent City scene bustle in a slow, easy, southern kind of way. Halloween was in the air, bringing a palpable feeling of excitement along with it. The crowd’s mood was happy, a mood I was giving my best effort to absorb as I tried to gather myself together.
Tonight’s group represented the usual mixed bag of revelers for Bourbon Street. There were the locals, enjoying the scene, partying themselves, some having fun observing the sightseers, while others ignored them altogether. There were the kids, either from college or high school, checking the limits of their fake ID’s. There were the obvious tourists, sporting their various accents and the out-of-towners, people from outlying small towns of northern Louisiana or Mississippi, dressed to kill; some of these were staggering badly, figuring they weren’t really getting drunk if no one they knew saw them do it. There were some visitors that were in the city for a football game, plastered all over with their home team’s loud colors and official logos, along with the conventioneers, some still dressed in business attire, so anxious to start their partying that they had not even bothered to change clothes. Then there were my favorite to watch, those playing the mating game. Among this group, there were the singles, both gay and straight, looking for love or a good time, with whom I could truly identify. Also, there were the couples, those that had actually found someone
, be it for a lifetime or only for the night. These doublets came in all forms, young, old and everything in between, each seeking fun and a romantic evening. Boyfriends and girlfriends, married and newlyweds, the crowd contained pairs of all sizes, shapes and colors, twosomes that clung to each other in affection, lust and inebriation. Men with women, men with men and women with women held each other tightly, some kissing openly while walking down the street, happy to be in the city that for over a century had been described as the “Paris of the New World”. It reminded me again of my own love, the dream man who was so real to me, even though we had never actually met in the flesh, and of how badly he needed my help. I stepped away from my comfortable little spot at the wall, threw my empty cup in the trash and began anew my journey toward The Crypt.
My quickened pace lasted until my courage ran out when I reached the corner of Bourbon and Ursuline. I found I could go no further. The flyer said that The Crypt was on Ursuline, but I wasn’t familiar with the street or its numbering system and I couldn’t see it from the corner. I didn’t even know whether to turn left or right. Looking both ways down the street, which contained little human traffic tonight, I lost my nerve. If I had to walk too far down Ursuline, I thought I’d be better off walking to the club via a more populated route. But which way to go? There was a bar near the corner where I stood, so I figured I’d pop into it and see if the bartender could tell me which way to turn and how far down the street The Crypt was located.
As I walked in, the band was going on break. Good, I’d be able to get directions a lot easier without having to scream over loud music and strain to hear the answer. I walked up to the bar and sat on the last empty stool at the far end. The bartender came up to me and asked me what I wanted to drink.
“I don’t know. Maybe just a club soda?”
“Just a club soda? You sure?”
“Well, I don’t really know what I want,” I said. “I just came in to ask for directions, but while I’m here, okay, what do you recommend?” One hurricane hadn’t quite bolstered my nerve enough. I could go for another drink.
“We got a house specialty. Gater Madness. Wanna try it?”
“Sure, why not?” I was in this neighborhood to do something that I did not want, under any circumstances, to do. Maybe just a little bit more liquid resolve might help. If I didn’t like it, I didn’t have to drink it.
I watched him pour the frozen, pre-made liquid into a tall glass from a vat that looked more like a slushy machine than anything else. He brought it up to me at the bar, I liked it, so I paid him.
“So,” he said, “You need directions?”
“Yes, to The Crypt. It’s a club. It’s supposed to be somewhere down Ursuline.”
“The Crypt? I never heard of it. Dan,” he yelled to a man across the room, “You ever heard of a club called The Crypt?”
The other man shook his head. The bartender turned back toward me.
“I been workin’ in the Quarter for fifteen years now and I never heard of that place. You sure that’s its name?”
Confused, I reached into my back pocket, unfolded the flyer from this afternoon and handed it to him.
“This address, it’s down that way a few blocks.” he pointed, handing the flyer back to me, “You gotta go in the direction of North Rampart but it’s before you get to Rampart. I know the Quarter like the back of my hand, but I never heard of this place before.”
“It’s new,” I heard a voice behind me say. I looked around to see a set of big, innocent dark blue eyes behind me, eyes that belonged to the hero that had saved me from Rochere earlier today.
“Troy!” I was so very happy to see his familiar face.
“How you doin’ Ashley? You sure look a lot better’n you did this afternoon!” He gave me a hug.
“Yep, you were right, I just had to sleep it off,” I said, although “dream it off” would have been a more accurate description.
“See, I told you that you’d be okay. Whatcha got there?”
“A leaflet. It’s some club I’m supposed to be at tonight.”
He took the flyer out of my hand and studied it.
“Yeah, I heard about this place.”
“You have?” said the bartender, incredulously. “Man, I haven’t.”
“Sure. It’s bran’ new. I think tonight’s like their openin’ night or ‘preview’ night or somethin’ like that. I think it might even be some kinda private club.”
“Funny, a private club handin’ out flyers. Well, maybe you can help this lady, then. She needs directions.”
Troy smiled at me, “Be happy to. Hey, Ashley. What’s that you’re drinkin’?
“Gator Madness,” said the bartender. “You want one too?”
“Nah, that’s alright, I’m fine.”
At that the bartender walked away to help another customer.
“Don’t drink too much of that stuff,” Troy warned.
“Oh, no, this is only my second drink tonight. I just had one Hurricane earlier.”
“Man, you’re brave, mixin’ your drinks like that. I wouldn’t mix any more if I was you.”
“I don’t plan on it. They are pretty good, though,” I said as I took another sip of the drink. Sweet and luscious, Gator Madness went down with smooth deception, only to reveal its strength and bite after it was too late. While I’d been handed an assignment for tonight, I reminded myself that I was still on an overdue vacation, after all, and needed to have some fun.
Troy reached into the front pocket of the faded blue jean jacket that he wore over a black turtle-neck sweater and pulled out his cigarettes and a lighter. He extracted a cigarette, lit it and offered it to me. I hesitated, tempted for a brief moment.
“Thanks, but I gave up cancer sticks years ago. Don’t you know those things’ll kill you?”
“Yeah, but there’s lots of other stuff gonna kill you hangin’ around this life, too,” he said somewhat sadly, sticking the cigarette he had offered me in his own mouth and taking a long drag.
I looked at him trying to figure out what he meant by that. His tone conveyed more than just a lame smoker’s excuse.
We sat silently for awhile. Troy appeared to be lost in thought; he seemed to have his own burden to carry. I sipped my drink while he silently smoked his cigarette. I hadn’t quite finished my Gator Madness when the band came back from break and the sound check of their instruments began to cut loudly through the air.
“You want to get outta here?” he asked.
“Yeah. I’m really not much in the mood for music tonight. Besides, I’ve been putting this off for too long. It’s time for me to go to The Crypt and get this over with.”
Troy didn’t ask any questions about why I had to go to The Crypt or what it was I wanted to get over with. Looking over at him he seemed to have troubles of his own.
As we walked out of the bar, the cool, crisp fresh air, available for such a short time in the deep South during the heart and soul of Autumn, invigorated me and cleared my head.
“I’ll walk you over there. With you being a visitor, it’s just safer that way. We don’t want you gettin’ mugged, now do we?”
“Thanks, Troy. I was a little scared of venturing off the tourist path by myself.”
“Sorry that I can’t go in with you, though. Tomorrow’s a work day for me an’ I got a whole day’s worth of seminars that start early in the mornin’. But I wanna walk you on over though an’ make sure you get there in one piece, okay?” His tone was light, but his face held a worried expression in the dim light that made me wonder if he was concerned about more than my just getting mugged.
“That’s fine, Troy. I really appreciate it.” And I did. Once again Troy had proved himself the hero and come to my aid when I needed him. Having company along not only made me feel safer, it also kept me from speculating or dwelling too much on whatever unknowns which might be lying in wait for me at the ordained location.
We walked for a few blocks, stopping near an intersection.
“I hope so,” I responded. Just viewing my destination, looming so near, made the lump in my throat and the knot in my stomach grow and twist. I looked at Troy and tried to smile. “It sure was nice to run into you tonight and thanks again for walking me over here. You know, that’s twice today that you’ve gone above and beyond the call of duty to help me out.”
“I do what I can,” he said. To my surprise he gave me a very warm bear hug, intimate but not sensual.
He smiled, warmly yet sadly. “You take care of yourself now. I wish I didn’t have to go so soon. It’s been so nice meeting you and I really, really hope to see you later. Bye now.”
“Same here. Bye.”
I watched him as he turned and walked away until I lost sight of him altogether when he rounded the corner. This was it, then. I was here all alone to start some mad nightmare game that I knew almost nothing about, except that it would be very dangerous, nearly impossible to win and would probably kill me.
I stared over at the object of my fear, a black door which sat near the middle of a lonely block, a door illuminated only by the small, dim light bulb hanging above it. In the middle of the door the club’s name “The Crypt” loomed large, hand lettered in a blood red shade reminiscent of the credits from early 1960’s Technicolor vampire movies. The downward-slanting script was deliberately sloppy, its red paint dripping gruesomely from the letters, drying in clumps resembling clotted blood at the bottom where gravity had finally given up tugging at its flow. A few people were entering the building and I wondered if they’d been handed copies of the same leaflet that I had. Were they also players in the game and, if so, whose side were they on? I walked a few more steps down the street until I faced the club’s entrance directly, getting a better look at the clientele as they went in. The street lamp revealed them to be rarefied people, very young, tall and extremely beautiful to the point of perfection, so graceful they glided rather than walked into the establishment. While some entered moments before the others, they all appeared to be part of the same group. Their beauty was only increased when illuminated by the light coming from inside the nightspot, a light that exhibited itself so shortly as they entered and then extinguished itself as the door closed behind them.
The Nightmare Game Page 9