vacationers.
“We’re moving in with you for a while,” he told them. “Just do what we tell you to do and you won’t get hurt. Okay?”
“Okay,” Edward and Wendell said in unison.
“Fine,” LaRue said. “Then let’s all get settled in.”
He sat down on a small Chippendale chair in the corner and lifted the telephone to see if it worked. There was no dial tone.
“Why don’t you see what they got to eat in the kitchen,” he suggested to Big Top.
“This is nice,” Monk said. “You guys live here?”
“We’re just in for Mardi Gras,” Wendell said.
“The lights don’t work?”
“No, they went out a little while ago.”
“It’s getting dark,” Monk noted.
“There are some candles on the table over there.” Edward pointed.
“That’s great.”
“Are you planning to be here long?” Wendell inquired politely.
Monk glanced at LaRue. “Depends on how long the flood lasts,” he said.
“Where are you from?”
“Colorado,” Monk lied. “You?”
“Atlanta,” Wendell said.
“I like Atlanta.”
“It’s okay. Why’d you pick this place to barge in on?”
“Your door was wide open.” Monk smiled.
“What are you guys? Bank robbers?” Edward inquired.
“What gives you that idea?” LaRue asked in that quiet voice of his. He leaned back and rested his boots on a wicker footstool. It served to put a temporary end to the conversation.
“We got some wine and vodka,” Big Top reported, bringing out some bottles. “There’s some leftover spaghetti and some crackers.”
“Oh, there’s lots more than that,” Wendell said. “There are vegetables and some shrimp from the grocery store. And there’s some meat in the freezer. I don’t know how good it is. It was here when we got here. It will all go to waste if it isn’t cooked.”
“Are you a cook?” LaRue asked.
Edward shrugged. “We had planned to cook some of the recipes in those old cookbooks in the kitchen. We just got back from shopping.”
“Well, here’s a drink anyway.” Big Top passed around glasses. He included the two subdued tourists on the couch. “If we can’t go anywhere, we might as well get drunk.”
CHAPTER XIV
It was getting dark, and someone was beating on the window of the taxi. Hossein rubbed away enough condensation to see who it was. He refused to roll his window down.
“Oh, boy,” Collette said in disgust. She cracked hers an inch. A large black man, hunched over against the gale, stuck his eyes up to the gap in the glass.
“You need help?” he yelled.
“We’re stuck,” she said.
“I can see you ain’t going nowhere. You want to come inside?”
Collette looked at Bradley, who looked back, noncommittal. Hoss would not acknowledge the invitation.
“You mean inside your house?” Collette asked.
“Yeah. Inside my house. The water is rising. Y’all are going to get mighty wet out here.”
“Well, sure,” Collette said.
“Okay. I can carry you. I can only fetch one at a time though.”
“No, don’t go,” Bradley said urgently, gripping Collette’s elbow.
She shot him her stern look.
“Ready when you are,” she told the face in the window.
“Don’t try to open the door,” he said. “Just roll down the window and climb out.”
She did as she was told and found herself sitting on a stranger’s broad shoulders. Water over his belt, he slowly forded the street. With cautious footwork he first found the sidewalk and then the steps to his house. He stood on the bottom one, water to his knees, and set her down with a bump on the wooden porch. It was high and dry, out of the rain.
“Thank you so much,” she said, extremely relieved to be standing on something solid.
“Go on inside and dry off,” he called out on his way back to get the others.
She opened the torn screen door and stepped tentatively inside.
A big woman rose from the couch.
“Come on in, honey,” she told Collette. “Junior, give her that chair and go find us a towel. The pink
“We’re moving in with you for a while,” he told them. “Just do what we tell you to do and you won’t get hurt. Okay?”
“Okay,” Edward and Wendell said in unison.
“Fine,” LaRue said. “Then let’s all get settled in.”
He sat down on a small Chippendale chair in the corner and lifted the telephone to see if it worked. There was no dial tone.
“Why don’t you see what they got to eat in the kitchen,” he suggested to Big Top.
“This is nice,” Monk said. “You guys live here?”
“We’re just in for Mardi Gras,” Wendell said.
“The lights don’t work?”
“No, they went out a little while ago.”
“It’s getting dark,” Monk noted.
“There are some candles on the table over there.” Edward pointed.
“That’s great.”
“Are you planning to be here long?” Wendell inquired politely.
Monk glanced at LaRue. “Depends on how long the flood lasts,” he said.
“Where are you from?”
“Colorado,” Monk lied. “You?”
“Atlanta,” Wendell said.
“I like Atlanta.”
“It’s okay. Why’d you pick this place to barge in on?”
“Your door was wide open.” Monk smiled.
“What are you guys? Bank robbers?” Edward inquired.
“What gives you that idea?” LaRue asked in that quiet voice of his. He leaned back and rested his boots on a wicker footstool. It served to put a temporary end to the conversation.
“We got some wine and vodka,” Big Top reported, bringing out some bottles. “There’s some leftover spaghetti and some crackers.”
“Oh, there’s lots more than that,” Wendell said. “There are vegetables and some shrimp from the grocery store. And there’s some meat in the freezer. I don’t know how good it is. It was here when we got here. It will all go to waste if it isn’t cooked.”
“Are you a cook?” LaRue asked.
Edward shrugged. “We had planned to cook some of the recipes in those old cookbooks in the kitchen. We just got back from shopping.”
“Well, here’s a drink anyway.” Big Top passed around glasses. He included the two subdued tourists on the couch. “If we can’t go anywhere, we might as well get drunk.”
CHAPTER XIV
It was getting dark, and someone was beating on the window of the taxi. Hossein rubbed away enough condensation to see who it was. He refused to roll his window down.
“Oh, boy,” Collette said in disgust. She cracked hers an inch. A large black man, hunched over against the gale, stuck his eyes up to the gap in the glass.
“You need help?” he yelled.
“We’re stuck,” she said.
“I can see you ain’t going nowhere. You want to come inside?”
Collette looked at Bradley, who looked back, noncommittal. Hoss would not acknowledge the invitation.
“You mean inside your house?” Collette asked.
“Yeah. Inside my house. The water is rising. Y’all are going to get mighty wet out here.”
“Well, sure,” Collette said.
“Okay. I can carry you. I can only fetch one at a time though.”
“No, don’t go,” Bradley said urgently, gripping Collette’s elbow.
She shot him her stern look.
“Ready when you are,” she told the face in the window.
“Don’t try to open the door,” he said. “Just roll down the window and climb out.”
She did as she was told and found herself sitting on a stranger’s broad shoulders. Water over his belt, he slowly forded the street. With cautious footwork he first found the sidewalk and then the steps to his house. He stood on the bottom one, water to his knees, and set her down with a bump on the wooden porch. It was high and dry, out of the rain.
“Thank you so much,” she said, extremely relieved to be standing on something solid.
“Go on inside and dry off,” he called out on his way back to get the others.
She opened the torn screen door and stepped tentatively inside.
A big woman rose from the couch.
“Come on in, honey,” she told Collette. “Junior, give her that chair and go find us a towel. The pink
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