Sugar Doll's Hurricane Blues

by Lauber, Kalua

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are products of the author’s imagination, or are used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons-living or dead-is purely coincidental.

  No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without the written permission of the author, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

  Copyright © 2010 Kalua Lauber

  All rights reserved.

  ISBN: 1449998488

  ISBN-13: 9781449998486

  eBook ISBN: 978-1-61916-298-3

  Library of Congress Control Number: 2010900014

  Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright Page

  Acknowledgements

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-one

  Acknowledgements

  I MUST FIRST THANK MY husband Celso Lauber. You have been my best audience. Thank you so much for listening to every chapter and plot change with such support and enthusiasm. I love you and our son Celsinho (Little Celso) very much. You are my best friend.

  Thank you Gerardo Cervantes for lending me your expertise in writing and grammar. Your honest feedback helped me to revise things that I would not have caught myself. You are a great mentor and a wonderful friend.

  I owe a tremendous debt of gratitude to my lovely mother Essie Lee Brown. You always stood up for me and believed in me and I love you.

  My deepest gratitude belongs to Angela Fogel who believed in me when I didn’t believe in myself. You have shown me the type of friendship which transcends family. You are for me as your name implies an angel. I thank you for all of your help and support from the bottom of my heart.

  Thank you so much to my editor Heidi Arroyave. Your professionalism and attention to detail were spectacular. I enjoyed the process much more with your help.

  The person who inspired me the most in my life and is the love of my life is my grandmother Rose Lee Hughes. She died before the terrible events of Hurricane Katrina and for that I thank God that she did not see the destruction of her beloved home. She is gone but never will she be forgotten. I dedicate this book to her.

  “The Lord is my light and

  salvation; whom shall I fear?

  The Lord is the strength

  of my life; of whom

  shall I be afraid?”

  Psalm 27; 1

  Chapter One

  Revelers hanging over the black wrought iron balconies looked like bats in rafters and those clogging the streets were no better. Karl shoved his way just as much as he was being shoved and pushed back and then ducked reflexively when the champagne cork popped next to him, and the fat lady with the bottle in her hand sloshed some onto his shoe as he tried to wriggle past her. Karl wondered if 1984 would be any better than ’83 had been. He sure hoped so. After all, he’d lost his job this year, and then it all seemed to go downhill from there. A jazz band began cueing up and so he craned his neck to see if he knew any of the players. Was Charlie there? He always hung out on this corner at night. But the trio didn’t look familiar-must be one of them that come in from Mississippi to make money for the night. New Year’s Eve brought just about everyone to New Orleans, and the cheap booze that flowed like dirty water helped to open their wallets. Wide.

  Karl approached the darkened alleyway with only a moment’s hesitation. He elbowed his way through the crush of people. He had managed to be invisible amongst the partygoers so much so that no one commented on his being there. The exclusive club was just ahead of him. Two large white men approached him. Karl moved closer to the wall smelling the urine. The bolder of the men stepped forward and grabbed Karl by the collar, “Happy New Years nigger!” and then undaunted by Karl’s blank expression he stumbled away laughing.

  Karl smiled to himself. “It’s sure gonna be.” He whispered under his breath.

  Karl walked up the two short steps to the door. He made five quick taps on the door. He looked into the small square hole. Slowly the little window slide open revealing two bulging green eyes.

  “Hey, what you want?” A voice behind the door asked.

  “I got a message for Marsalas.” Karl said with as much authority as he could muster.

  “Marsalas don’t take no messages.” Said the voice.

  “Oh yeah, so I heard, but I believe he’ll take this one.” Karl responded steeling his voice. “Tell him Karl out here knows who been taking over his territory. Tell him that Karl got more than enough information from the man himself.”

  “Boy, since it’s New Year’s Eve I’m going to give you a head start, but if you don’t start running now it’s going to be your black ass. Now get!” The voice sounded slightly amused, but the eyes were watching Karl seriously.

  “Man would I risk my life if I didn’t think I had valuable information? Do yourself a favor and get me Marsalas.” Karl stood taller looking at the eyes behind the small window directly.

  The doorman waved to one of his cronies in the hallway. “Man come see this shit! This nigger outside must be drunk!” He laughed gleefully. His friend walked out to the door and looked out of the small window to get a glimpse of the boy.

  “C’mon man, let’s kick us some nigger butt tonight. I already gave him a warning.” The doorman nudged his friend who stood silently gazing out at the young man who didn’t look like he was drunk at all. Tony was the manager of the place and found himself removed from the petty antics of his employee. His startling blue eyes conveyed a seriousness that matched his handsome demeanor and classy style. His dark slicked back hair glimmered in the light that shafted through the tiny window.

  “Hey boy! This ain’t no gym, go on and take your exercise somewhere else.” The doorman let out a guffaw. Tony slapped his shoulder and they both shared a laugh.

  “I got a message for Marsalas. It’s big boss.” Karl leaned forward toward the hole looking directly into the blue eyes that were looking out at him. He was determined not to be deterred by the little “white man jokes” that he heard on a daily basis.

  “Boy, Marsalas doesn’t take messages.” Tony said dryly.

  “That’s exactly what I just told him.” The doorman nudged Tony in recognition.

  “Go on now, get! I don’t want to have to mess up my tux.”

  “Tony, you do look nice.” The doorman appraised him.

  “Well, you tell Marsalas that Karl here tried to warn him about his territory being took over and about the hit Turner got out for him.” Karl stood his ground.

  Tony and the doorman both regarded each other seriously for the first time. Tony opened the door and the doorman grabbed the lanky Karl as though he were just a rag doll. Karl didn’t put up a fight. Tony looked into Karl’s face and saw how young he was. His dark skin was as smooth as a baby’s bottom. The doorman dragged Karl roughly down the hallway. Karl didn’t appear to be afraid under the massive older man’s weight. Tony walked alongside them unruffled.

  “Son, you are saying some serious shit! Don’t you know any better?”

  “I sure do know better man
, but I’m a business man. I know what I’m saying is for real.”

  “A business man? Hell, you ain’t nothing but a kid. So tell me Captain Courageous what is your message to Marsalas? Tony’s eyes flashed bright with anger.

  “I want to see the man himself!” Karl straightened up out of the doorman’s grip.

  “Kid, you don’t have any wants.” Tony replied snidely.

  “Tell Marsalas that I was a runner in his first club a few years ago. Tell him I’m Karl Bouvier.”

  Tony looked at the doorman who had regained a tight grip on Karl.”

  “Hold his ass here!” Tony walked down the long hallway and entered a different world. The New Years Eve party was in full swing. People were dancing, laughing, colliding into each other. The theme was definitively black and white tux and evening gowns. Tony crossed the dance floor between couples. He glanced quickly around for any troublemakers but as rowdy as the crowd was, it was rather peaceful. The kid seemed too unruffled to be just pulling a prank. He thought about the serious things the kid were saying and knew that it had a ring of truth to it. “Fucking Turner…” Tony muttered to himself as he waded through the crowd.

  A beautiful blond on the staircase tugged at his arm suggestively as he walked by her. He remembered that he was a playboy and it was New Years Eve after all. “Not right now baby.” He smiled handsomely at her. He started to ascend the staircase next to the dance floor but thought better of it and walked back down a few steps to the blond, cupped her face and kissed her softly. “Wait for me. Later tonight I’ll make it up to you.” The woman brightened as Tony turned away from her. He returned to the stairs and made his way toward Marsalas’s personal quarters. This time he did not look back as a feeling of dread returned. He approached the room at the top of the stairs. When he opened the door it was a distinctly separate environment from the revelers. The room was sober and dark, only lit by a single overhead shaded lamp.

  There were four men sitting around a poker table. He quickly scanned their faces but none of them were Marsalas. Two bodyguards got up when Tony approached a curtained booth. They recognized Tony and sat down on both sides of the booth. The curtain was partially opened and a single stream of smoke flowed out of it. Tony saw the familiar glass of Scotch on the table and the graceful hand holding it. He entered the booth comfortably.

  “I beg your pardon Marsalas, but we have a situation downstairs which may require your attention.”

  Marsalas continued to watch the game silently waiting to be told of the “situation” that would interrupt his evening. He was not a patient man often known for his violent outbursts. He liked Tony because he was as cool as a cucumber and didn’t seem bothered by his often erratic behavior. Marsalas didn’t sense the fear that Tony had for him but he knew that he was respected. More than that, he was his cousin.

  “There’s a boy downstairs by the name of Karl Bouvier. He says that he used to be a runner for you. He says that he’s got information about a hit that Turner has out on you. He says that Turner is planning on taking your territory.” Tony looked at Marsalas uncertainly wondering if acknowledging the kid was a case of bad judgment. Marsalas stirred then and looked directly into Tony’s blue eyes.

  “Bring him to me.”

  Tony nodded and immediately turned for the door completely ignoring the men playing poker. They were important businessmen who were always nameless and who never wanted to be acknowledged and Tony respected that line. He never crossed it.

  As Tony descended the stairs, the same beautiful blond was there apparently waiting for him. She pouted her sexy lips and tugged at his sleeve. Tony glared at her in business mode, “Much later baby, like tomorrow.” The blond flared anger but stepped aside.

  Tony walked back through the even rowdier crowd having to make his way back to the front door. The doorman still had Karl in a vice like grip but Karl remained unconcerned. “Let him go.” Tony growled.

  The doorman released him and the quiet, patient Karl disappeared, “Told you!” he pointed in the doorman’s face.

  Tony grabbed Karl’s arm lightly, “You had better know what you are talking about or that’s your ass. Now listen here boy, I’ll give you a chance to run right now. It’s the last chance you gonna get tonight.” Tony stepped aside and pointed to the door. Karl doesn’t respond but kept walking toward the entrance of the club. A place that would be forbidden to him on any regular evening, but this evening wasn’t regular; it was turning out to be downright interesting. They crossed the dance floor obvious standouts with the lanky black Karl in tow. As they approached the stairs people stepped out of the way to avoid brushing elbows with a black man. They entered the poker room but this time everyone looked up to see the uninvited intruder. The two bodyguards immediately approached and frisked Karl roughly.

  Marsalas stood and came out of the booth. The bodyguards released Karl. Marsalas came face to face with Karl, studying him.

  “You remember me?”

  “Sure kid, I never forget nobody.”

  “Mr. Marsalas, I mean no disrespect coming to you on this holiday evening. You helped my family in our time of need and I appreciate it. Now I hear that Turner has been biting off a piece of your action in New Orleans east and there’s big talk about bumping you off….no disrespect.”

  “None taken how is your father?” Marsalas asked.

  “He’s dead bout one year now.” Karl bowed his head.

  “I’m sorry to hear that kid. Now, who’s doing all of this talking?”

  “Sonny and Ramon mostly, they are Turner’s right hand men. I did a deal with them last week so the man called me back for something else. The fat one talks a lot so I hear everything they say and then last week I was at the shipyard and I heard Turner say things himself. Like planning to get you out of the picture and stuff like that. They said that they would do it at the Fairgrounds where you play the horses on Fridays. They say that they will take you in your box and that you won’t even see it coming. They already set somebody on the job so that you would be familiar with him. He’s a big white man named Jim.”

  Marsalas nodded in recognition. He remembered when Jim started working that box about one month ago, he didn’t check on him because the owner of the track said that he had screened him himself, maybe he was in on the deal.

  “Anything else?”

  “Yes sir, they say that you’ve got a tight lock on the Biloxi gaming as well. They want to get rid of the guy over there that is your front man and run the entire southeastern part of the country.

  “Now how did you manage to hear all of that?” Marsalas asked raising an eyebrow.

  “I know how to be invisible and ain’t nobody paying me no attention.” Karl answered.

  “I’m paying attention.” Marsalas answered.

  He was a man of few words but when he spoke the meaning was always crystal clear. Karl swallowed but looked back into the eyes of death.

  “Thank you Karl. Tony, give Karl some cash here for his trouble.”

  “Pardon me sir but how do you know that this ain’t a trick?” Tony asked concerned and surprised that Marsalas was taking the word of a young kid with hardly any other questioning.

  I know this boy and knew his father. He’s all right.” Marsalas answered simply with no other explanations.

  “Karl you stay away from Turner and that gang. I’m going to give you enough money to move on and get out of any trouble. You’ve got a talent for numbers, use it.”

  “C’mon let’s go.” Tony grabbed Karl by the shoulders.

  “5 G’s should cover him.” Marsalas said directly to Tony.

  “I hope that you are right boss.” Tony said still worried.

  “Go pay this Jim at the Fairgrounds a visit. Let him know that his job has been terminated.” Marsalas returned to the booth and picked up his Scotch. “Kid, watch yourself. I don’t forget a favor, ever.” With that he closed the curtain.

  Tony walked Karl down the stairs and took him to the back offices. �
��Let’s set up your future Karl.” Karl stood quietly, relief flooding him. He had done the right thing for himself, for his family. He smiled slowly.

  “Where did you get all of this money Karl?” Mona cried shaking her head as she watched him count it for the third time.

  “I did a job and I earned it.” Karl said with a smug smile.

  “Did you kill somebody for it? Is this blood money?” Mona shivered. Her tawny colored skin and long black curls inspired desire in Karl instead of aggravation.

  “No girl, I ain’t killed nobody. Haven’t you told me that a man without money ain’t a man?” Karl asked.

  “A man who steals is a dead man.” Mona said her mouth forming into a resolute line.

  “Baby, my skin may be as black as tar but my brain is in working order.” Karl looked at her nodding his head.

  “What does that mean?” Mona yelled and stood angrily.

  “It means that I know that them white fellas be checking you out and you don’t have to give them what they want to get what you want. I can give it to you myself.” Karl threw money across the bed.

  “I don’t know what you mean.” Mona stood shaking.

  “Yes you do. Now tell me is that baby you carrying mine?” Karl put down the money.

  “Yes Karl, dammit! Why would you ask me that?” She turned away from him then.

  “Curious, that’s all. It seems you been going to the French Quarters more than necessary. You are going to start showing soon. It’s time to stay home.” Karl went to her then. “I will marry you because I love you. Whatever you done before is over now.”

  “It’s yours Karl.” Mona asserted.

  “Time will tell.” Karl looked at the money tempted to count it again.

  Chapter Two

  “I don’t have no time to be babysitting no child.” Karl said to the pretty little girl in his arms. She cupped his face lovingly. There was a knock at the door. Karl looked around scared. “I told your mama to hurry up!” He hissed angrily. He put the child down on the couch. He walked to the door angrily but as he swung the door open two young black men burst in grabbing him by both arms and dragging him through the open doorway.