“Okay, we’ve had the best crawfish and
jambalaya in New Orleans. What now, Jed?” Kith walked arm in arm with her
cousin. His friends Deacon and Marjorie accompanied them down Basin Street.
Marjorie rolled her eyes. “Since you’re
the tourist, what would you like to do? It’s almost midnight. We could make our
way over to the House of Blues.”
Deacon narrowed his eyes. “She can go
clubbin’ any time. St. Louis Cemetery number 1 is not too far from here. If you
like tourist-y stuff, it’s the oldest graveyard in New Orleans. It dates back
to the 1700’s.”
Kith squealed. “Oh, let’s do that! Can we
Jed?”
“Sure. It’s fine. Hey, Deacon. How is it
that you know so much about the old cemetery?”
“I spent a summer doing tours. You’ve seen
those open buses that look like street cars. The guy up front pointing out
stuff; that was me. I had to memorize a bunch of historical facts and such.
It’s really interesting. New Orleans is an old city with a lot of history.”
Despite the late hour, the Quarter was
bustling with revelers. The foursome strolled leisurely down the sidewalk.
Deacon continued with his history lesson. “St. Louis #1 is just outside the
Quarter. It filled up in the early 1800’s because of a yellow fever outbreak. That
was some nasty stuff. Fever, jaundice, black vomit, and then you die. Probably.
A lot of people did. Anyway, you know it’s closed to tours now. We’ll be on our
own.”
“All the better.” Kith laughed. “You can
be our guide.”
“I didn’t do cemetery tours but I do know
we need to be careful. This place is old and some of it is crumbling. Watch
your step and do not get separated.”
“Why didn’t you do cemetery tours?”
“Well, Kith, they make you wear period
costumes for the walking tours and honestly, that shit’s hot. You try wearing a
three piece wool suit in the Louisiana summer. To be historically accurate,
someone of my particular complexion would be a slave or laborer. No thanks”
“What about the ladies?” Marjorie hooked
her arm with Deacon’s. “The girls have to wear those long dresses and
petticoats.”
“I’ve seen people dressed like that.”
Kith skipped ahead. She pulled to a halt at the front gate, pointing to the weathered
sign on the wall. “Visitors are welcome but enter these premises at their own
risk.” Kith rolled her eyes. “That’s not ominous at all. I think it’s closed.”
“I coulda done told you dat.” Jed’s accent
dripped with Cajun sass. “There’s another gate around yonder.”
Kith sprang in the direction he indicated.
“I’ve got it.” She took off at a pace.
“It’s probably locked too. We gonna have
to hop the wall.” Deacon called after her.
“Come on then.” Kith rounded the corner.
The side street was dimly lit. “This way.” Kith ran toward a low point in the
wall where construction outside the cemetery had built up the pavement. She
pulled herself up and over the six foot wall expecting a six foot drop on the
other side. “Shit!” Kith uttered one word as she dropped eight feet before
crashing through the roof of a dilapidated mausoleum.
Jed
rounded the corner, peering into the gloom. “You hear dat?” He called to Deacon
and Marjorie. “Come on, now. She done found a place to hop dat wall.” He paused
a moment for Marjorie and Deacon to catch up. “Dat girl is fast. Y’all hurry
up.” He sprinted ahead. “Kith! Where you at?”
Kith rose gingerly from the pile of rubble,
shaking dust and gravel from her hair and clothes. “Oh crap. I don’t even want
to know what this is.” She picked her way out of the mausoleum. Don’t want to do any more damage than I
already have. Kith emerged in the aisle, illuminated only by the ambient
light as there were no street lamps nearby. She dusted herself thoroughly. “Jed?
Marjorie?” She called timidly.
Down the lane she saw a figure walking
toward her. “Who’s causin’ such a ruckus?” The woman chastised Kith. “You
should not be here. It’s not safe.”
Kith launched into an apology. “I know.
I’m so sorry.” She noted the woman’s long dress and apron. ”I didn’t mean to
interrupt your tour.”
The woman squinted at her as she
approached. “My tour?”
Kith stretched her aching back. “I’m
really sorry. I think I hit harder than I thought.” She took a painful step and
almost lost her balance. The woman stepped back.
“Back pain? Headache?” She looked
concerned.
“Well sure. It’s like ten feet and then
right through the roof. So, yeah, my head hurts too. Do you think I have a
concussion?” Kith took a deep breath. A wave of fatigue washed over her. “I
really don’t feel well.”
The woman stepped closer. “Follow me.” She
turned down the lane, disappearing in the darkness.
“Can you hold up? I need to call my
cousin.” Kith fished in her pockets for her phone. “Of course. It’s dead.” She
made a face at the blank screen and shoved it back into her pocket.
The woman returned. “Please. This way.
Come with me.” She beckoned Kith to follow her.
“Okay. Just show me the way out of here.”
Kith trailed after the lady in period costume. As the two wove around the
statues of Saints and angels Kith felt light-headed. She stumbled and lost
sight of the woman. She paused beneath a
stone chair perched high on the façade of a large mausoleum. “I wish that chair
was down here. “Hello? Lady?” Kith called after the guide. “I’m just so tired.”
She leaned on a grave. “No disrespect, but I need to rest here for a
moment.” She closed her eyes for an
instant.
A
chill breeze gave Kith a start. She opened her eyes to see a procession of
somber faces file past. I must have
drifted off. What’s going on? There were men, women and children of
different ages. They each wore or carried fragrant blossoms in bouquets or
wreaths around their heads. No one spoke or seemed to notice Kith. She observed
as a young woman plodded past with a baby in her arms. Suddenly, a quiver ran
up Kith’s spine. The silence of the ashen faced parade was unnatural. There
were no coughs or whispers. Even the infant remained mute. The gravel in the
lane did not crunch as they trudged past.
At the end of the procession the lady from
earlier brought up the rear carrying an old fashioned oil lantern. She wore a
wreath of gardenias around her tightly braided hair. She stopped in front of
Kith. Kith’s stomach lurched with nausea from the sickly sweet scent of the
flowers. Uh oh. My crawfish may be coming
back up.
“You should go.” The woman’s voice was
faint.
Kith leaned in to catch what she said. She
turned toward the receding crowd. “Should I follow you guys?”
“No.” The woman whispered. “You aren’t
supposed to be here. You should go before the fever takes you too.” She pointed
down the lane to Kith’s left. Without another word she turned to follow the
silent procession, already swallowed by the darkness.
“Before what takes me?” Kith called after
the woman, but she was gone. She turned down the lane in the direction the
woman had indicated. She stumbled more than once in the darkness with only the
monuments and graves to guide her way. Her stomach cramped and her head ached. I may really have a concussion. Kith doubled
over and vomited in a pile of rubble. Jambalaya
is not the same coming up. She heaved again, empting her belly in a splat
of greasy dark ooze on the bricks. She spat and wiped sweat from her forehead.
Up ahead she saw twinkling lights coming toward her. They got brighter and Kith
swooned, almost tumbling into a pile of debris.
Jed’s strong arms caught her. “Hey Cuz.
Are you okay?” He steadied her, holding his phone up to shine the flashlight on
her face. “You are sweatin’, girl. In this light, your eyes look yellow. Come
on.” He put his arm around her waist to help her down the lane. “Deacon is
right up here.” He spoke soothingly. “I found her.” Jed called to Deacon.
Kith’s body ached and her empty stomach
continued to churn. Deacon and Jed hoisted her up to the top of the wall.
Marjorie helped her down the other side. Kith sat down hard on the sidewalk.
The boys easily hopped the six foot section.
Once outside the wall, Kith instantly
began to feel better. Her stomach settled. Her headache began to fade. She
pulled back her damp red curls, feeling the kiss of the breeze on her sweaty
neck. She sighed deeply. “I think I’ve had enough adventure for one night. I’m
ready to go home.”
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