that they’re not open to the public yet.”
“Why are you whispering?” he asked her . “ We’re not likely to wake anyone up.”
She shrugged. “You started it.”
“Where’s the way out?”
Maddy turned a slow circle then pointed to the northeast where some of the larger crypts seemed to be. “That direction?”
“You sound uncertain.”
“Well yeah. I’ve never been here before,” she replied, starting down the wide open path between crypts. “Anything I know was gathered from travel books about this city. This is one of the better kept cemeteries. The ones closer to the Quarter are in serious disrepair. Crypts falling apart. Graffiti everywhere.”
Grant fell into step next to her. It was eerily like walking through an abandoned, immaculately-kept city in miniature. All the lawns were perfectly trimmed and the tiny streets clear of litter. Only there were no people—rather, none above ground. “How far?”
“This is like some kind of a dream,” she whispered in awe, gazing around with a child-like smile on her face. Suddenly she grabbed his arm and shook him roughly. “I still can’t believe we’re in New Orleans!”
Grant recovered and put a discreet distance between them. “And if this were a pleasure cruise, a cemetery wouldn’t be one of the hot spots on my list,” he said with an unconscious shudder. “The only saving grace is that it’s daytime.”
“Is it freaking you out a little?” she asked, giving him a look of interest.
“No,” Grant retorted a bit too sharply. He increased his speed slightly. “How big is this damn place?”
“No idea,” she admitted, double-stepping to catch up to Grant. “There’s a hundred or so acres of dead folks in here. In fact, I think Louis Prima’s grave is around here somewhere.”
Grant scrutinized her with an impressed smile. “Louis Prima? Really?”
“That’s what I heard.” She flashed him a look of honest confusion. “What?”
“I ain’t got nobody!” a voice sung out from behind them.
Maddy squeaked and throttled Grant’s arm.
Untangling himself, Grant spun to find a mound of rags on the steps of a crypt slowly materializing into a figure. A bearded face emerged and blinked at them foggily. “I ain’t moving, no how,” the man exclaimed, tipping over the empty bottle sitting next to him and sending it clattering down the stone steps of the crypt.
The sound rang like the chiming of a bell through the still morning air.
“How ‘bout a little help here?” he asked them blurrily.
Grant took Maddy by the elbow and guided her in the opposite direction.
“God Bless and the Devil curse,” the homeless man yelled at their backs, suddenly sobering up. “Curse you, you selfish sinners!”
Just ahead the wide path narrowed to an intersection surrounded by towering stone monument-like crypts. Mounted atop one, a six foot tall angel laid draped around a cross as if in mourning. Another figure sat casually on the ledge beneath it, watching the passing couple with interest.
“Okay, I’m officially spooked now,” Maddy admitted in a hushed voice.
“You’re whispering again.”
“Yeah, well now I have a good reason.”
“I think you shoulda paid the gatekeeper,” a voice suggested in a conversational tone.
Maddy attacked Grant’s midsection, throwing herself behind Grant and putting him effectively between her and the skinny emaciated black man in a top hat that had separated from the shadows atop the crypt beside them like a man-sized crow.
“They ain’t open yet, y’know,” Top Hat informed them, dangling his legs off the ledge.
Grant gently nudged Maddy backwards, but unable (or unwilling) to grasp the hint, she continued to cling to his mid-section.
“We were just passing through,” Grant replied.
Jamming his two pinkie-fingers into his closed lips, Top Hat gave a single shrill whistle that reverberated through the tiny
“Why are you whispering?” he asked her . “ We’re not likely to wake anyone up.”
She shrugged. “You started it.”
“Where’s the way out?”
Maddy turned a slow circle then pointed to the northeast where some of the larger crypts seemed to be. “That direction?”
“You sound uncertain.”
“Well yeah. I’ve never been here before,” she replied, starting down the wide open path between crypts. “Anything I know was gathered from travel books about this city. This is one of the better kept cemeteries. The ones closer to the Quarter are in serious disrepair. Crypts falling apart. Graffiti everywhere.”
Grant fell into step next to her. It was eerily like walking through an abandoned, immaculately-kept city in miniature. All the lawns were perfectly trimmed and the tiny streets clear of litter. Only there were no people—rather, none above ground. “How far?”
“This is like some kind of a dream,” she whispered in awe, gazing around with a child-like smile on her face. Suddenly she grabbed his arm and shook him roughly. “I still can’t believe we’re in New Orleans!”
Grant recovered and put a discreet distance between them. “And if this were a pleasure cruise, a cemetery wouldn’t be one of the hot spots on my list,” he said with an unconscious shudder. “The only saving grace is that it’s daytime.”
“Is it freaking you out a little?” she asked, giving him a look of interest.
“No,” Grant retorted a bit too sharply. He increased his speed slightly. “How big is this damn place?”
“No idea,” she admitted, double-stepping to catch up to Grant. “There’s a hundred or so acres of dead folks in here. In fact, I think Louis Prima’s grave is around here somewhere.”
Grant scrutinized her with an impressed smile. “Louis Prima? Really?”
“That’s what I heard.” She flashed him a look of honest confusion. “What?”
“I ain’t got nobody!” a voice sung out from behind them.
Maddy squeaked and throttled Grant’s arm.
Untangling himself, Grant spun to find a mound of rags on the steps of a crypt slowly materializing into a figure. A bearded face emerged and blinked at them foggily. “I ain’t moving, no how,” the man exclaimed, tipping over the empty bottle sitting next to him and sending it clattering down the stone steps of the crypt.
The sound rang like the chiming of a bell through the still morning air.
“How ‘bout a little help here?” he asked them blurrily.
Grant took Maddy by the elbow and guided her in the opposite direction.
“God Bless and the Devil curse,” the homeless man yelled at their backs, suddenly sobering up. “Curse you, you selfish sinners!”
Just ahead the wide path narrowed to an intersection surrounded by towering stone monument-like crypts. Mounted atop one, a six foot tall angel laid draped around a cross as if in mourning. Another figure sat casually on the ledge beneath it, watching the passing couple with interest.
“Okay, I’m officially spooked now,” Maddy admitted in a hushed voice.
“You’re whispering again.”
“Yeah, well now I have a good reason.”
“I think you shoulda paid the gatekeeper,” a voice suggested in a conversational tone.
Maddy attacked Grant’s midsection, throwing herself behind Grant and putting him effectively between her and the skinny emaciated black man in a top hat that had separated from the shadows atop the crypt beside them like a man-sized crow.
“They ain’t open yet, y’know,” Top Hat informed them, dangling his legs off the ledge.
Grant gently nudged Maddy backwards, but unable (or unwilling) to grasp the hint, she continued to cling to his mid-section.
“We were just passing through,” Grant replied.
Jamming his two pinkie-fingers into his closed lips, Top Hat gave a single shrill whistle that reverberated through the tiny
Similar Books
