NEW ORLEANS IV: WITCHING HOUR

In my defense it was buy one beer and get two free. 

How was that profitable when a single beer only cost three dollars and fifty cents? These bars were wild. The profit margin would surely be paper thin? Everything else was overpriced. I’ll give you that. But buy one beer and get TWO free? It was a free drink basically. My grandpa always said you never turn down a free drink.

Anyways, I was certainly towed by now. I remember parking in a small spot off Bourbon street. But the spot I parked in had a Honda Civic in its place. Maybe Officer Shades had called his buddies and impounded my car. If that was the case I was screwed. I had just under one hundred dollars to my name. Not enough to pay a towing fee I was sure. But he could have moved it around the area. Or maybe the Busker boys knew where he put it. 

That’s what started me wandering around downtown New Orleans. Eventually I trickled into the heavier area of foot traffic. My search was fruitless. No sign of either. And worse of all it was still humid and hot even at night. The evening crowd wasn’t helping it, they were starting to swarm. I was sweating from that fact or all the anxiety that was pressed unto me. And I was probably concussed too from that explosion, concussed again, because it felt like I had the worse hangover of my life still. Like my brain was pouring out of my ears. And what's the best cure for a hangover?

Drinking more. 

I mean with a drink special like that, it would be stupid not too. Right? I would practically be losing money. 

The first three beers turned to three more. Then a crew of college kids were just enamored with Chewy. They bought us shots of tequila. 

Back to searching for the car. 

But in a town where you can drink on the street it would be a shame not to get a drink to go. I got an obnoxious blue flashing plastic skull and it was filled with a slurry of blue alcoholic slush. It was the sugar or the coldness of it that stung my molars. I figured if I was looking for the ghost of Zeke to point me around then maybe I should have some whiskey? 

Then I remember the moonshine in my bag. 

Then I remember very little after that.

~

Leaning to and fro. The roofs of the neon establishments around me were playing limbo. 

Plop. Plop. 

My feet seemed much more slappy lately. I had to really plant them on the ground to make sure they don’t float away. 

Keep them under me. Keep them steady. 

Trodding through a puddle. Puddle? Vomit?

People loved Chewy. They hollered at him. Ears pinned back they pet him. I’m glad I had the leash around my waist. I couldn’t hold much, my fingers were numb. 

I kept dropping my bag of goodies. Butterfingers. 

I looked for my wife. Her raven hair in the crowd. Where was she? She hated when I ran off on vacation. I hope she was okay. If I was this drunk I couldn’t imagine what she was like. She was a lightweight after all. But I was too. I could hardly feel my legs. 

The leash tied to chunky boy Chewy helped keep me steady. 

He had a judgemental look. 

“Don’t look at me like that!” I said to him, 

“What you mean?” Hand on my shoulder. Not mine. Why would I grab my own shoulder?

I was on my back. The stars above me did little crescent circles. They all wiggled together. Waving. In the narrow street, the neon corner of the rooftops were grass riverbanks for the moving cosmos. Pushing down south. Like a twinkling creek of black and milky streams. Moving to nothingness. Were they carrying me with them? 

Who was I looking for again?

~

“Chewy!” People were calling. He had beads all over him. They were giving him a parade. 

I was being dragged behind. Patted on the back.

“Chewy! Chewy! He’s a Jolly good fellow!” Half the party sung. “He’s a pretty good fella!” They slurred.

A marching band sprang ode to joy behind me. 

I was blowing on the bottle of moonshine, missing their tune. But it would sound better if the jug was empty. 

Bottoms up. 

I wanna die. 

I should tell her that. Say goodbye.   

~

It was quieter now. Seedier end of a street. More vomiting. It got on my hands. All over my hands. I wiped it away on my pants. Not caring. 

“No, don't lick that up.” I said, I yanked a leash that was attached to my own neck. It almost tipped me over. Did I say that? Was someone else saying that?

I took what felt like an hour getting the collar on Chewy. He had so many beads on it was like peeling back a curtain to get his scruff. He was smiling, drunk off my vomit most likely. 

Am I the biggest piece of shit in this sinking state? 

Or just this slithering alley?

~

Piano music. Horns. Jazz. 

Open court eatery. Wire seats that were cold to the touch. Two girls were playing. Attached to their instruments. Hands moving quicker than I could see. 

I was crying. I knew that. 

She was playing the Piano and I knew that was my wife. Her same demeanor and smile. A cigarette out of the corner of her mouth. I always said she was gonna catch her hair on fire. Long beautiful hair. I like to run my fingers through it. I’d wash it in the shower and kiss her on the nose when I was done. 

Thank god I found her again. I was anxious and ready to wash the smoke out. To ask her what was stressing her. 

She only smokes when she’s stressed. 

I’ll tell her it was going to be alright. 

When she goes to sleep i’d check to see she was taking her meds. That’s who I am, I serve her. Worship her. 

The cigarette glow was etched in my eyes. The little red dot in my cornea. Stuck like a fly stuck in between window panes. Everything else was moving around it. But that was steady. It all orbited around it like it was a little burning sun. 

“You have to leave. No sleeping.” A man with the largest shoes I have ever seen said to me. 

I told him the same thing. I was ready to bite his head off. 

How dare he talk to me like that? Can’t he see the world is out to get me? 

He repeated what he said. Then he didn’t ask anymore. 

~

I was sitting with beggars. They pet Chewy. They showed me how to use the paint thinner. 

I floated when I pulled my head free from the beanie that was soaked in it. Didn’t even use my legs. Chewy kept me grounded. Everytime I brethed it in it stopped the tinnitus in my ear. Thank god. Or was that actually mosquitoes? My legs were getting bit fiercely. Tingling. 

People passed around me. They walked through walls to get into the bars. 

Genius. If you walk through walls you don’t need to wait in the lines. 

I did the same. 

I gave Officer Shades, Zeke, and Mr. Lucien a round of my moonshine. They enjoyed it. An eclectic bunch for sure, but they got along surprisingly great. Too great. I brought them all together but now they were friendlier with each other than they ever were with me. They started ignoring me completely.  

It figures. 

I was ready to scream at them. Let them know I was still here and was still important. Wasn’t I? Still here? I swung on them but only managed to crack my hand against the tiled wall, the mirror split and half of it fell from the frame. 

“That’s how it goes!” I shrugged and took a huff to clear my head. The trick was really keeping it in. Then the buzzing died down and turned to voices. The people walking past me would smile and jump over me. It was nice to be noticed. 

I was never noticed when I was living. 

~

“You keep knocking hats off people and I'm arresting you.” A police officer scolded me. His badge read the New York New PD. 

 I knew somewhere in the back of my mind that he was out of his jurisdiction. So I crossed my arms and said nothing. “You got it, officer. I’m sorry.” I replied.

“Get the fuck out of here!” And I twirled around and walked into a small plaza. It was mostly deserted. Good. I could wait for her here and she’d know where the car was. She’d take me home. Wasn’t I looking for something else? I looked around this area. There was a sign to my right and a figure at a table. Waiting for me. 

Fortune reading huh?

~

What have you been looking for? Are you going to find it in your Mania? Is that what you are looking for itself? To fall deeper and deeper? A boat lost at sea throwing out it’s oars. Only dead become the sea foam thrown in waves. I see the sadness form the sickness in you. I see the pain. The hurt and hate that you wield at yourself. Are you chasing him to hope he finishes the job? To die by his same hand, would that bring you closer to her?..

If the Loa would ride me I would give you a chant to slay him. To rid him from this world but I cannot. You will have no weapon to hurt him. You will meet him though. Look at my cards. Remember what I told you... 

He will guide you. He can protect. He smells the otherworlds. Where this man lingers, and how he crosses over. He will show you the right portals. He sees many, his eyes are more than human. I will let you talk to him. Drink my tonic… Yes. Good…

The man you follow does not know I told you all this. Be careful. The Gris-Gris will hold off his ill charms he drags behind himself, his wake of violence. He is the one you must dance with. Never face straight on. Follow your guide. One step in front of the other. A leaf to not be caught. One that will not fall but instead flies. You have a choice. Remember the wh....