Chapter Fourteen

     Flickering gas porch lights delineated the boundaries between apartments at a small complex on Jefferson Highway.  A porch light sprouted out of the wall every fifteen feet.  The residences didn’t take up very much space, but the living quarters looked nice and they were clean.  The place offered high quality cheap apartments.  That was why Tiffany chose it.
     A well-dressed man got out of a Range Rover and promptly knocked on a door loudly enough to wake the dead.  A few seconds later Tiffany answered.  She looked casual in a jogging suit and tennis shoes.  She and Alan hugged when he walked in, and then she shut the door behind him.  Outside the gaslight kept flickering, and nothing disturbed the night.
     “A cop came to my house, Tiffany.  I thought you said you never called the cops,” he reproached after the door closed.
     “I didn’t call the cops.  Back up.  Start at the beginning and tell me exactly what happened,” said Tiffany calmly.
    “I called up a guy I hired a few weeks ago.  He told me he’d like to score some weed because his mother was dying of cancer, so I figured I’d hook him up.  He and another of my friends wound up meeting accidentally.  I got a crazy vibe off the guy when that happened.  The guy drew a blank when I mentioned his mother.   Then he practically tried to force money on me.  The guy was a cop.”
     “So you called the cops,” Tiffany snickered merrily, “on yourself.”
     “If the guy was a cop, and he was, then he joined my landscaping crew at the behest of the Narcotics Bureau.  The Narcotics Bureau wouldn’t put one of their guys deep undercover for no reason.  The man dug trenches, like with a shovel.  They must have had a tip.”
     Tiffany stopped smiling.  “I see your point, Alan, but I didn’t do it.  I told Cynthia I did, but it never happened.  Everything I told you was true.  If I preferred to deceive you, then I wouldn’t have told you anything.  I knew a lot about you before you ever asked me out.  Cynthia and I originally planned to get you busted.  The only problem was that I realized you weren’t the person Cynthia said you were.  I’d bet you anything that she called the cops.  She hasn’t trusted me completely since I started spending nights with you.”
     “I feel really sorry for Cynthia.  I told you the truth, too.  The night she claimed I raped her she was very drunk.  I had no idea how drunk she was.  If I had known she was going to pass out and make up a story like that, then I would have waited another seventeen years to lose my virginity. I finally had sex, and the girl tried to ruin my life.  Do you know how traumatic that was?”
     “She honestly believed that you did it, Alan.  I looked into her eyes, and I had no doubt she was telling the truth, at least as she saw it.  The experience changed her permanently.”
     “I’ve thought about it over and over since that night.  I think she may have wanted to tell me no.  I think she wanted me to stop.  She never communicated that feeling to me, though.  Hell, we practically had witnesses.  She was all over me.”
     “You don’t need to convince me, Alan.  Things have gotten a lot clearer since I met you.  Cynthia blames a lot of people for the bad times in her life, but she never looks at the right person.  She can’t take responsibility for her actions.  I love her, but she has serious problems.  I spent years on that roller coaster of a relationship.”
     “Do you ever have any regrets?”
     “No, I don’t.  I’m a big girl, and I make my own decisions.  I loved her as much as I could.  She filled an empty space in my heart that no man was ever able to.  I will always be grateful for that.  That’s why I couldn’t tell her the truth about you and I.”
     “I could see how that might have created some problems,” commented Alan wryly.
     “What was I going to say?  ‘Honey, I’m leaving you for the man who raped you.’  Initially I spent time with you to dig up dirt, and it seemed reasonable to keep telling her that.  I couldn’t bring myself to hurt her.”
     “Is she going to make it?”
     “They don’t know.  She took a turn for the worse last night.  They said it’s a miracle she’s alive at all.”
     “I hope she pulls through.  I feel genuinely bad.  She thinks I raped her.  I stole her girlfriend.  I had sex with you while she was in intensive care.  If she dies right now, I’ll probably go to hell.”
     They carried on their conversation on the sofa in the living room.  Tiffany never fully furnished the apartment.  She maintained it as a place to get away from her office and from Cynthia, regardless of the excuses she made about it.  No pictures or art graced the walls, and the sofa was the only place to sit.  There was a bed in the bedroom, and coffee in the kitchen.  All of the necessities were taken care of.
     Alan took his shoes off and lay his head on Tiffany’s lap.  She liked his hair, and she immediately started running her fingers through it.  The feeling made him totally relax.  They were very comfortable with each other.  Neither one of them harbored any illusions about their relationship.  They simply wanted to make each other feel good, as long as that was possible.
     “You didn’t steal her girlfriend, Alan.  Our partnership began to unravel when she got strung out on coke, yet again.  She promised me she would never do it again.  I should have known better.  Have you ever been involved with a drug addict?”
     “I’ve known a few people who dabbled with heavy drugs, but I can’t say I know anyone who threw away their life over it.”
     “Cynthia did.  I know we haven’t talked much about Cynthia and I because you said it made you feel awkward, but I think you should know about it.  I would never pressure you into a serious commitment.  God knows I’m not ready for another heavy commitment, but I like you.  I like spending time with you, and I want you to understand me.
     “I never considered myself a lesbian.  I fell in love with one woman.  I doubt I will ever be with another.  I met Cynthia at a time when I was desperate for someone who could understand me.  I went through a series of nightmarish relationships during college.  Every time I thought I found Mr. Right, and every time my heart got broken.  Each one was worse than the last.  Cynthia broke that cycle.
     “Before anything sexual ever happened between us, we used to sit in coffee shops and talk for hours and hours.  We talked about everything.  Even when we disagreed we understood each other completely.  There was so much mutual respect between us.  Being with Cynthia made me feel like everything was okay.
     “One night we got drunk together.  We were at Cynthia’s apartment, and we had a box of wine.  I know that sounds tacky, but that’s what it was.  We talked and giggled for a long time, and then we kissed.  It didn’t take too much urging for me to sleep with her.  My sex life was dead in the water, and I craved attention badly.  It never would have happened if I was involved with a guy, but I wasn’t, and it did happen.
     “The night felt so perfect, but once I was alone the next day I freaked out.  I tried to give Cynthia the cold shoulder, but she refused to give up on me.  She called and knocked on my front door until I finally answered.  Once we talked nothing we did seemed wrong.  The things we did in bed felt so good I wound up doing it again.  After the second night we spent together Cynthia went to great lengths to stay close.  She knew that when I was alone the magic faded away, so she decided never to leave me alone.  That plan worked so well we moved in together.
     “Cynthia was so proud of me.  She took me to meet her parents, and that didn’t go very well.  I took that as a sign that we should keep our affair a secret from my family.  My parents would never understand, and I will never tell them. Even today my parents think she’s just my long time friend and roommate.  I always told Cynthia that if they are too stupid to realize the truth, then they are too stupid to handle it.
     “Cynthia never understood why I wouldn’t come out and tell everyone I loved her.  My silence hurt her deeply.  She claimed that was the reason she started doing drugs again after we were an item.  I knew she used drugs in the past, but I didn’t know that she totally lost control when she used.  Three months after we moved in together our lights got cut off.  Cynthia took the money I gave her for utilities and spent it on drugs.
     “I cared too much about her to simply abandon her.  I went through hell with her to get her straight.  She lied and stole from everyone she knew.  Fourteen months ago she went to a rehab center in Michigan, and for a long time I thought she had finally conquered her addiction.
     “I found out she fell off the wagon.  She came to me to borrow money.  She said she owed a drug dealer two thousand dollars.  I wouldn’t give it to her.  I wanted her to face the music for her stupidity.  I bailed her out over and over, and it was one time too many.  I think that’s why she got shot,” Tiffany concluded her story.
     Alan sat up and stretched his arms above his head.  It took a long time for Tiffany to say what she wanted to say.  She paused at times when the memories became painful.  The soft sound of her voice almost put Alan to sleep.  Right before he drifted off she started crying softly, and the heaving of her chest pulled him back into reality.
     “It’s not your fault someone shot Cynthia.  That’s not something you get to accuse yourself of.  Only the person who shot her can take the blame for that,” admonished Alan.
     Tiffany wiped the tears from her eyes and smoothed out her skirt.  She wasn’t accustomed to showing genuine emotion in front of men.  When she regained her composure she continued, “Three weeks ago she went to see the dealer she owed.  I didn’t see her for two days after that, and when I did she was messed up beyond all reason.  I couldn’t stand to be around her.  That was when I started spending a lot of time here.  We went through a horrible scene when I told her I needed time apart, but I had to for my own sanity.”
     “I think you’re an extraordinary woman, Tiffany.  I feel bad about everything that happened, but I feel good about being with you.  I know you had good reasons for breaking up with Cynthia.  Are you okay?”  He made a reference to the tears that started flowing down her cheeks again.
     “I will be.  Do you think you could just hold me for a while?”
     “I would feel honored to do so.”
     Alan wrapped his arms around Tiffany, and she buried her face in his shoulder.  In the kitchen the refrigerator clicked on with a whirring noise, and hummed gently away.  Every now and then the whoosh of a car passing outside found its way through the front door.  Besides that there was only the sound of Tiffany’s breathing. 
     Alan hoped that she could one day find happiness with him.  He knew the odds were against him, but he considered it a challenge.  He suffered from self-esteem problems forever after being accused of rape.  Tiffany faced deep emotional issues after a long-term lesbian relationship, issues compounded by her eventual realization that she was straight.  Together they demonstrated problematic sexuality in a number of ways, and that amounted to a bizarre sort of compatibility.
     “Why does everything in the world hurt so bad?”  The trembling of Tiffany’s voice mirrored the turmoil she felt inside.
     “People have accused me of being shallow because I don’t vocalize my feelings, but I feel the hurt like everyone else.  I know life is hard.  I can’t explain why there is so much pain, but I can tell you I don’t like it.  Maybe I can make it hurt less, if you’ll let me.  I’m not asking for a commitment.  Just give me a chance, and maybe I’ll make you feel better.  You haven’t lost anything if it doesn’t work.”
     “Alan, you can be dense at times.  I’m already giving you a chance.  I left Cynthia because of how much I like you.  She made it easy, but it was really because of you.”
     “Oh.  I am dense,” he affirmed. 
     After a moment of thought her remarks made plenty of sense.  He didn’t think very highly of himself when it came to women, and at times their inner workings befuddled him.  He may not have known how she felt, but Cynthia knew Tiffany wanted Alan from the start.  Women can always tell when their partners cheat.  Tiffany sheepishly made excuses about investigating his habits, but Cynthia knew.
     “Would you like to go to bed with me?” asked Tiffany as innocently as a child would.  She never aroused herself with wanton fantasies.  The thought of the plain, mundane act of mutual pleasure always did the trick.
     “Yeah, I’d really like that.  Being with you makes me happy,” professed Alan with all honesty.
     “It makes me feel better too,” she licked her lips as she pulled him off of the couch.
     “Nobody I know would believe this story if I told it,” he said on the way to the bedroom.  The knowledge that two lesbians stalked him for a while usually caused him discomfort, but the sight of Tiffany removing her clothes relieved all of his distress.
     “It does sound like a dark fantasy.  If it’ll make you feel any better, nobody I know would believe it either,” murmured Tiffany as she glided over to him and pulled his shirt off.
     The spectacular lady lawyer and the successful landscape architect made love standing in the middle of the room, at first.  Then they knocked one of the sliding closet doors off its track.  The floor proved to be surprisingly soft.  They fell to earth in the process of tearing off every shred of each other’s clothing.  Garments lay scattered all over the room.  They made it to bed eventually, and slept the sleep of satisfied lovers.
 
     The next morning they drank coffee while they sat together on the one piece of furniture.  Alan toyed with the notion of mentioning the furniture situation, but figured it wasn’t the right time.  He thought that Tiffany showed remarkable restraint in not rushing to the side of her former lover.  He was sure that weighed far more on her mind than the furniture did.
     “What are you going to do about the cops, Alan?”  Tiffany asked without any real concern.  She felt confident that the police would have taken action without delay had they any intention of doing so.
     “I’ll swing by there and remove the weed.  If I don’t have any evidence, then I don’t have anything to worry about.  I may come and go a couple of times before I do it, just in case the house is under surveillance.  The experience scared the hell out of me.  I think I’ll leave the drug dealing to someone else from now on.”  He looked at Tiffany when he finished, “I have way too much to lose.”
     “I’m glad you said that.  I don’t want to be involved with anyone in the business of selling any kind of drug right now,” she conveyed with the pressure of painful memories on her mind.
     “I can understand that.  What are you going to do today?”
     “I have to go to the hospital.  I have put it off so far because I couldn’t stand the thought of seeing her parents.  I’m sure they blame me.  I don’t think they ever liked me.  I owe it to Cynthia to go see her.”
     “Obviously I can’t go with you.  I hope everything goes well, though.  I really do hope she can recover and find peace inside herself.”
      “I’ll call you after it’s over.  Is there any way I can see you later?  I may need someone to talk to.”
     “I’m here for you.  You don’t mind if I go take care of that business right now, do you?”
     “No, I’m going to run too.”
     “Okay.  Bye Tiffany.  Good luck.”  Alan hugged and kissed her warmly in parting.
     “You too,” she said, but her response was to his affection rather than anything he said.
     Alan let himself out of the apartment.  As he got into his vehicle he hoped Tiffany would be all right, because he really liked her a lot.  In the apartment Tiffany hoped Alan didn’t get busted, and she mused about how nice he turned out.  Their bodies touched in the night, and the next morning their spirits met for one brief instant.  The maroon Range Rover pulled onto the street, and their lives went off in solitary directions again.  They both knew better than to analyze what passed between them.  What happened merely took place, and then dissolved into nothingness.

ÜÜÜ

     There were no visitors in the hospital ward with Cynthia Duplessis when her heart stopped beating.  Her doctor said that with injuries so severe, medicine alone wouldn’t keep her alive, and he was right.  The young woman lost her will to live, and the gun shot wounds overcame her physical strength.  Death stole into Intensive Care at three o’clock in the morning, and slipped away with Cynthia’s life.  Nothing could have saved her by that time, and the token efforts of the staff came to nothing. 
     Mr. and Mrs. Duplessis wept when they got the news.  They thought of all the promise their little girl had, and how it all disappeared in the blink of an eye.  So many other victims of drugs and violence passed through the hospital.  None of the employees shed a tear.  Cynthia’s passing rippled the surface of the activity only slightly, and then the ripple went away.
     Her mother was perhaps the only person who was truly heartbroken.  Cynthia never lived in true happiness, and that knowledge wracked Mrs. Duplessis with waves of sorrow.  It was bad enough that someone murdered her only daughter, and snatched her away at such a young age.  That Cynthia never experienced real happiness seemed far too terrible a thing to endure.  Mrs. Duplessis was inconsolable for six weeks.
     One day the older woman looked through a travel magazine while she whiled away the hours in her darkened bedroom.  She saw an ad for a resort in Acapulco, and something about the expressions on the peoples’ faces caught her eye.  They all appeared genuinely happy.  She decided to take a trip to the Pacific coast of Mexico.  The vacation helped assuage the pain of Cynthia’s murder.  Mrs. Duplessis had an affair with a mature Mexican man while she was there.  By the time she returned to Baton Rouge she felt much improved, and Cynthia seemed better off after all.  Every now and then Mrs. Duplessis felt crazy, but the sensation passed as quickly as it came.
     The world did not mourn the passing of Cynthia Duplessis, nor did birds alter their flight in the sky. 

 Chapter Fifteen

Tuesday, April 26, 2005

     A metallic black 1967 Chevrolet Impala pulled into the parking lot of a vacant office building in downtown Baton Rouge not long after midnight. The immense car shined under the halogen streetlights from a wicked custom paint job.  A deep boom thumped out of the trunk to the beat of a Georgia rap song.  Someone tinted the windows of the car a dark black, in violation of local law.  Everything about the vehicle screamed gangster while it sat immobile well off of the street.
     Life went on undisturbed around the building.  People occasionally drove down the street without even noticing the Chevy.  Ten minutes later a yellow Honda Accord rolled into the parking lot.  It stopped a few feet from the Impala with the engine revving loudly, and a man got out of the passenger side.  He was handsomely clothed in an Italian suit.  The man stood taller than average, and he was very dark.  He walked over to the other car and got in the passenger side.  The booming stopped coming out of the trunk.
     The driver’s side window of the Impala shattered in an explosion of blood and glass.  The well-dressed man calmly got out of the passenger side and strolled over to the Honda.  He took a handkerchief out of his coat pocket, wiped off a handgun and dropped it to the ground.  Then he wiped off his hands and got into the Accord, which sped from the parking lot and down the street.
     The foot traffic in the area dropped off to nothing after dark, so there were no witnesses to the event.  The street was too far away for passing cars to notice anything unusual.  The closest residence was on the other side of the building, across a vacant lot.  Almost nobody had any idea something happened, but there were two people who heard something.
     “Buzz, did you just hear a gunshot and breaking glass?” asked Jake in a hopeful tone.
     “Yeah, I heard it.”
     “Awesome.  This is my opportunity to get in on some of the life saving that’s been going on around here.  Come on, Buzz.  Let’s get out there.”
     “No way, Jake.  I’ve been involved with enough shooting victims to last the rest of my life.  I’m staying right here.”
     “There was only that one girl.”
     “She was enough.”
     “Well, I’m going,” Jake huffed as he got up off of the sofa.  Buzz made no move to follow him.  When Jake looked back forlornly from the doorway Buzz smiled and picked up the bong in front of him.  Jake hesitated, and then sat back down.
     “I think I’ll smoke a bowl first.  I’ll go see what happened after that.  I’m not too intent on getting blood on me anyway.”
     “Good thinking, Jake.”
     The two friends passed the bong back and forth until the bowl was empty.  The room filled with sweet smelling smoke, and the scent drifted a hundred yards in every direction outside.  Of course there was nobody around to smell it.  Everyone who cared about broken laws left the area at night.
     “Where’s Eva, Jake?”
     “She’s always at work.  Somebody has to pay for this place.”
     “Have I ever told you how much of a loser I think you are?  How can you let your girlfriend support you?”
     “She’s the one who needs a place to live.  I can always move back into my parents house.”
     “You are unbelievable.  So how has the job hunting been going?”
     “Lay off me, Buzz.  I’m going through a slump right now, but I’ll be back working again soon.”
     “Not if you never fill out a job application.”
     A disgusted expression spread to every corner of Jake’s face, and he shot back, “What about you?  All you do is sell weed and pills all the time.  How is that so on the ball?”
     Buzz pulled a huge roll of bills out of his front pocket and started counting.  “One hundred, two hundred, three hundred… wow, there must be four thousand dollars here.  I feel pretty on the ball.  I think I’ll go buy something, something that costs money.  How about you, Jake?  Would you like to go buy something with me?  Oh, that’s right.  You don’t have any money.”
     “Leave me alone.  I’m going to go check out that gunshot.  It sounded like it came from the other side of the building over there.” 
     The second time Jake did not look back as he walked out, and Buzz decided to follow him.  They went out the back door and through the side gate to the back yard, which squeaked noisily on its hinges.  The grass in the lot still hadn’t been cut, and now it was almost up to their knees.  The cat called Lightning followed closely on their heels.
     “What do you think, Jake?  Should we cut through that abandoned office building to cut down on our walk?  We know nobody will care, because it’s absolutely empty.”
     “Shut up, Buzz.  They must have taken the stuff out while I was asleep.”
     “Tell me again why it was okay for us to break in to steal computers out of that building, if there had been any.”
     “Because nobody would care, and because I need a computer.”
     “I think you’re wrong.  I am sure the bank would care, the police would care, the District Attorney would care, a judge would care, the court would care and, finally, the Department of Corrections would care.”
     “Then it’s a good thing all we did was look around.”
     “Yeah. That charge only carries six months to a year instead of one to twelve.  That’s a good thing, right?”
     “I didn’t see you back out of the plan when we executed it.  Look, I know it was wrong to break in there.  I know it would have been wrong to steal the computers.  At the time it seemed like a good idea.  I guess I’m just warped.”
     “Yes, Jake, you are warped.  Whoa, what’s this?”
     They stepped around the corner of the building right behind the black Impala.  They had a clear view of the blood and broken glass, and closer inspection revealed chunks of brain on the pavement.  Jake found control of his legs and walked over to the driver’s side window to look in.  Inside there was a black man with dreadlocks who was missing half of his head.  The interior of the car was ruined.  Jake wondered what would happen to it, because it was a very nice ride.
     Buzz stepped up next to him and commented wittily, “That dude is dead.”
     “Are you sure, Buzz?  Maybe you should take his pulse.  Get a tourniquet, quickly.  Wrap it around his neck, dude.”
     “And then Jake found his brain and scored a few points.  Bravo.  Excuse me, but I’ve never seen a hollow skull with the face still intact.  It kind of threw me off.”
     Jake looked inside the car and saw a bag of marijuana sitting on the man’s lap.  He inspected it very closely before reporting, “Buzz, there’s weed in there, and I don’t think it has any brains on it.”
     “That’s it.  I am leaving.  I’m walking down the street to the casino to call the cops.  I want no part of this.”
     “I hate to say this, but I think you’re right.  Dead dude’s weed is probably bad karma.  Let’s get the hell out of here.”
     The walk to the glass monstrosity housing the casino complex passed quickly.  The entirety of the downtown area only occupied about one square mile, so anything located downtown could be reached quickly from any other spot in the area.  They walked right by John Ryland’s house on the way, and that caused Jake to think about their youth.
     “Hey, Buzz, do you ever wonder what happened to Merlin?  Sometimes I miss that dude.  He always whipped out bad ass characters.  Do you remember the thief he named Skink?”
     “Skink.  Was that the one who had an eighty percent chance to scale walls?”
     “Yes, that was the one.  He stole everything you could dream up, and all your traps and schemes failed to stop him.”
     “I still think he found a way to rig the dice.  I examined them very closely, but he rolled like ten critical hits in a row one day.  Do you remember what happened to that character?”
     “You got pissed off and sent a demon assassin to kill him in his sleep, when all his dice rolls were at minus five.  You cheated, Buzz.”
     “I didn’t want him to think he could get away with thievery like that in real life.  What kind of role model would allow that?  I had to kill Skink, for Merlin’s own good.”
     “Role model my ass.  Your ego was bruised, so you took vengeance.”
     They walked across the Sheraton parking lot and into the enormous glass building that led to the casino.  The structure rose out of the reinforced husk of a historic train depot and a few accompanying warehouses.  The temperature inside the building remained a pleasant seventy-two degrees all year round.  Bird of paradise plants twenty feet tall drew the eye to the indoor landscaping, which was lush and painstakingly maintained.  Buzz and Jake blew off all of those details.  They were locals, and all they wanted was to use a pay phone.
     “Do you want to make the call, or shall I?” asked Buzz when they reached the bathroom and vending machine area where the wall of phones was located.
     “You do it.  I hate cops.”
     “You don’t actually have to talk to police, Jake.  You talk to emergency dispatchers.”
     “I don’t care.  You do it.”
     Buzz picked up a phone and dialed 911.  It only took a second before someone answered, because he said, “I want to report a dead dude.”  Jake giggled behind him.
     “Yes, ma’am, there is a dead body.  Where is it located?  I think the address is 100 Government Street.  You know, the abandoned office building, well, actually it’s in the parking lot.  It’s in a huge black car.  The car has vanity plates that read, ‘M-L-C-L-M.’  They’ll be able to tell which one it is by the brains all over the inside.  No, I do not want to give my name.  Good bye.” 
     Buzz hung up the phone and marched away hastily.  Jake worked out his legs to keep up; because his legs weren’t as long he had to take more steps.  They didn’t slow down until they were two blocks away from the glass complex.  Neither one of them wanted to be involved with a dead body.  No communication needed to pass between them about it.  Once their pace settled down to a normal speed they started talking again, which they did constantly.
     “How come we don’t hear any sirens?”
     “Because I told them the dude was already dead.  They have no reason to rush.  The guy won’t file a complaint, or go anywhere for that matter,” Buzz shuddered over the image of the man’s head.
    Jake sometimes demonstrated a latent psychic ability for reading minds.  He responded to the atmosphere, “That was intense.  I’ve never seen anything like it.  I hope I never see a dead person again.”
     “‘Let’s go find out what happened, Buzz.  We’re going to miss out on all the excitement, Buzz.’  I can still hear your voice in my head.  I should know better than to listen to you by now.  You do everything backwards.  You skip saving a living girl, and insist on viewing a dead man,” said Buzz only half jokingly.
     “Why do people do such horrible things to each other?”
     “I don’t know.  It never ceases to amaze me that people are capable of great things, but so often commit terrible acts instead.  One thing’s for sure.  A murder like that really puts your desire to commit theft in a different light.  Stealing a computer doesn’t even come close to being evil.  Blowing somebody’s head off, now that’s bad.”
     “I feel sick for sharing any kind of category with someone like that.  I will never again contemplate committing a crime.  What if I did go to prison because I took a crime lightly?  I would wind up locked away with people who commit murder, and all I wanted was a computer.”
     “That’s what I told you over and over.  You finally get it.  The law doesn’t differentiate between criminals.  Burglars suffer the same consequences as murderers, only not for nearly as long.”
     “To hell with that.  I’m getting a job.”
     “I hope you do, Jake.  It would be nice for you to pay me what you owe me.”
     “Speaking of which, what about you, Buzz?  You sell drugs all the time.  The law would send you to jail too.  Why don’t you get a job too?”
     “Let’s not get crazy.  There is a difference, even if the law doesn’t recognize it.  Selling drugs is a consensual crime, and what I sell doesn’t hurt anybody.”
     “I’ll remind you of all that if you get busted.”
     “Maybe I should take a break from it.  It’s just so hard to make a decent living at the wages I get offered.”
     Their path led away from Jake’s house, where they started out.  The direction they chose led them up onto the levee of the Mississippi River.  Even late at night tugboats chugged up and down the river, towing barges closer to their final destinations.  Small bats swooped down out of the night to eat the insects that hovered in swarms around the lights on the levee sidewalk.  A cool breeze blew across the water and over the embankment.
     “I’d hate to see anything happen to any of my friends.  I’d bet you anything that guy in the car got killed over drugs, probably cocaine.  All drugs aren’t cool.  Maybe I should stop smoking weed,” Jake pondered in a conscientious fashion.
      They both thought about that for a second, and then they started laughing.  The tension melted at the sound of their mirth.  Buzz spoke first after the outburst, “Seeing that guy blew your mind too, didn’t it?”
     “Yes, it did.  Do you think he was Jamaican?”
     “He sure looked like it.”
     “Let’s walk back to my house.  You know, I didn’t even think about my car after I saw that.”
     “No doubt.  I’ve thought about moving out of Baton Rouge a lot of times.  Things like this make the idea very attractive,” Buzz confessed as they turned back in the direction of Jake’s house.
     “Move out of Baton Rouge?  And miss all this excitement?”

Chapter Sixteen

     Crowds of people milled in front of the dance club known as Dynamite on a boulevard three blocks from the LSU campus.  Miniskirts and tank tops ruled the day when it came to the women’s attire.  Baggy pants and football jerseys stood out on the majority of the guys in the crowd.  High-energy break beats rumbled out of the front doors of the club, and every body in sight moved to the throb of the bass. 
     Into that ocean of pleasure seeking Generation X exhibitionists rolled Conrad and Jessica on a quest for fun of their own.  Past security and through the doors to the dance floor bobbing they went.  Since the music drowned out the sound of voices, nothing needed saying.  The lovers wanted to dance, and they didn’t waste any time getting down to it.  They took an open place on the floor and began to sway and spin.
     The music plowed ahead at ninety beats per minute, but Jessica moved like a feline on the prowl.  She put her arms over her head and rotated her hips with an understated power that drew the eyes of men all around her.  The see through blouse accentuated every movement of her leisurely gyrating belly.  Under the strobes and black lights she shimmered like a vision of a goddess of lust.  Her flesh tone undergarment looked like nothing but flesh, and Jessica herself exuded raw sexuality.  People stopped dancing just to look at her.
     The man she came with saved all of his attention for her.  Conrad squared his shoulders and drew close to Jessica, matching her rhythm with a masculine edge.  He extended his arms and fanned his fingers up and down her ribcage, barely grazing the surface of her blouse.  He arched his back and moved his hands up to hold both of hers, and then they were touching face to face, grinding their bodies together to their own heartbeats.  They brought their hands down behind each other’s backs and locked in a sultry embrace.
     The couple held each other closely and slow danced in a crowd of wildly bouncing college students.  Onlookers stopped staring when confronted with the raw attraction between Jessica and Conrad.  The intimacy of their motions seemed too private to violate with open glances.  Ladies sneaked peaks at the arousing display, careful not to appear overly interested, or perhaps envious. 
     The two lovers swayed more and more languidly, until they finally stopped dancing and lavished kisses on each other’s mouths and necks and ears.  Conrad wrapped Jessica in his long, strong arms, her warm body molded snugly to his chest and abdomen.  They both dripped sweat, but not from physical exertion.  The heat between them grew like a roaring bonfire, devouring their bodies with a hungry flame.
     “Baby, I know you wanted to take me out dancing, but we’re going to have to go home and dance in private,” whispered Jessica in Conrad’s ear as the ache spread all through her legs.  She made sure he heard her over the music.
     “I don’t think I can let go of you right now.  Be patient,” Conrad tormented her by nibbling on her earlobes.  He moved on to the tiny hairs at the base of her hairline, blowing and chewing ever so gently.
     Jessica arched her back and dug her fingernails into his shoulder blades; she moaned loudly.  They started to dance once more.  Conrad bent and she pushed back.  He swung her around and pulled her in, and then leaned her down until her hair almost brushed the floor.  He gathered her in his arms and she wrapped her legs around his waist, and then he stood back up with all of her weight on his hips.  He stuck his fingers in her back pockets and massaged her rear muscles.  Jessica relished the feel of his hands on her ass, and she rubbed herself against him.
     “If you don’t take me home, then I am going to do something very naughty on this dance floor,” Jessica threatened throatily.
     She bit down hard on the muscle at the top of his shoulder.  Conrad rewarded her with a spasm of pain that caused his laterals to ripple involuntarily.  She suckled at the indentation she made in his flesh, and then she bit him again in a fresh spot.  He pulled his right hand out her back pocket and swatted her butt as hard as he could.
     “You are behaving very poorly, Jessica,” he chided her as one would a rambunctious child.  She giggled and attempted to bite him again, but he diverted her mouth to his.  She tried to clamp down on his lower lip, but he kissed her savagely until she gave up.
     “You’re right, love.  We should go someplace private,” conceded Conrad.  They really had intended to dance, but they both looked too appealing to each other to keep their hands to themselves.
     They left the dance floor hand in hand, and nobody who observed them showed the least bit of surprise.  Their intentions were displayed with unusual clarity.  Jessica’s cheeks were red and flushed, and Conrad couldn’t begin to hide his desire.  They walked out the doors, but Jessica broke away and sprinted as soon as they were outside.  She wanted Conrad to chase her, and he did.
     He caught her from behind when they got to the car, and she groaned as he lifted her short leather skirt.  She spun around and fumbled with the button on his jeans.  She got his pants undone and unzipped, and she pulled them down just enough to free his manhood.  Conrad ripped her fishnet stockings in his haste to be inside her.  He propped her weight against the door of the car and plunged into her with abandon.
     Jessica looked all around, afraid of being caught, but the sensation from her loins caused her eyes to roll back in her head.  The fear intensified her responses, and wave after wave of pleasure surged through her entire body.  The spasms and contractions lasted almost two minutes, and she breathed a deep sigh of relief that Conrad finished at the same time.  They gripped each other so tightly it hurt, and then they came to their senses.
     “Conrad, pull your pants up.  There’s a car coming,” she giggled, and the intensity of the delight she felt thrilled her.
     “Quick, get in the car,” he practically cackled from the rush of excitement.  He fumbled with the keys and got the door open for her in the nick of time.  She fell into the car with her stockings still around her knees, a situation she remedied in haste.  She smoothed down her skirt and took a deep breath.  She saw that Conrad had trouble with his pants, but it didn’t matter.  The people in the car that passed by didn’t even glance at the Mustang.
     “I’ve never done anything like that before,” Conrad panted. 
     Jessica laughed at the sight of him.  A big piece of his underwear got stuck in his zipper.  If that weren’t absurd enough, there was also a big problem with something that didn’t fit back inside where it belonged.  A look of consternation settled over Conrad’s face.  His mouth contorted at his efforts to get the situation under control.
     “Do you need some help?” she asked with a smile on her face.
     “God, this is embarrassing.  I can’t budge the zipper.”  He continued to yank as hard as he could.
     “Let me take a look at it.  I’ll fix it for you,” Jessica assured him.
     Conrad stepped behind the car door, directly in front of Jessica.  His crotch was at her eye level, and she approached the task with arched eyebrows.  She gathered the excess fabric of his boxers in one hand and gripped the zipper in the other.  She worked the zipper back and forth instead of trying to force it down, and in a moment it pulled free.  She noticed the rigidity of Conrad’s body with a twinkle in her eye, but she wasn’t about to do anything else crazy.
     “There you go, baby,” she said, and patted him on the thigh before turning to face forward.  “Well, dancing sure was fun.  Where to now?”
     Conrad walked around the car and got in the driver’s side before he answered her, “Would you like to go down to the river and watch barges go by?  It’s quiet and romantic under the stars, and we can hear each other talk.”
     “That sounds wonderful.”
     They pulled out onto Burbank and headed for the city docks downtown.  The pastures on either side of the road looked odd inside the city limits, but not so odd as the stretches of swamp that popped up between strip malls and apartment complexes.  Traffic thinned out after they passed through to the north side of the campus.  Only the casinos and a couple of bars remained open after dark downtown, and those businesses didn’t draw enough people to crowd the roadways.
     They passed the short drive in relative silence, and that bothered Jessica.   When they parked on River Road by the Old State Capital, she turned to study Conrad.  He looked the same way he always did.  He unbuckled his seat belt to get out of the car, but she put a hand on his arm and stopped him.
     “I’m scared, Conrad.”
     “What’s wrong, baby?” he asked, suddenly concerned.
     “You make me lose all control of myself.  If anybody ever told me I would one day have sex in the parking lot of a dance club, then I would have taken great offense.  I didn’t think twice about it while we were doing it, but I want you to respect me.  I don’t want you to get the wrong idea.  I’m not the kind of person who has sex in public, and I don’t want you to think I’m cheap, or easy.”
     “You’re the best thing that ever happened to me, Jessica.  I think I already told you that.  I respect you more than I have every respected anyone.  I can’t sleep without dreaming about you.  I can’t do anything without thinking about you.  We won’t ever do anything like that again, if it bothered you.  You say I make you lose control, but my mind, my body and my soul don’t even belong to me when I am with you.  You own me, Jessica.  I would die for you,” he spoke with great conviction.  A few tears rolled down his cheeks from the intensity of his feelings.  He looked at her in the way that always felt strangely familiar, as if he had been looking at her with love for a thousand years.
     Emotion overwhelmed Jessica.  She felt like an idiot, but she started to cry.  Conrad leaned over and hugged her tight.  She opened up to him and told him exactly how she felt.
     “I’m so happy.  I can’t believe I found you.  Nothing feels real since we spent our first night together.  It’s like I’m living in a dream.  I’m scared I’ll wake up any minute, and you won’t be there.  Please tell me this isn’t a dream.”
     “I promise you we are wide awake.”
     “I don’t know what would happen to me if I lost you.  I am so in love with you.  It doesn’t seem possible for me to love you so much after only a few days, but I do.  I keep worrying that I am crazy, that you’ll come to your senses and leave me, but everything you say and do makes me think you’re the one.  I thought I knew about love, but it turns out I was wrong.  I’ve never loved anyone before you.  I can feel it in every pore of my body.”
     She drew away from Conrad and blew her nose.  She grinned at the thought of how puffy and red a few tears always made her eyes look.  She pulled down the visor and looked in the mirror.  Sure enough, her image did indeed look pitiful.
     “Jessica, I would never…”
     “Don’t say anything.  I already know how marvelous you are.  I have never been so turned on before in my life as when we were dancing together.  You twisted me up inside until I couldn’t see straight.  Making love with you is the most incredible thing I have ever experienced.  I want to feel you inside me all the time.”
     “I could try, but I’m not sure it’s possible.  You’re too much for me.  I am a mere mortal, and you are my goddess,” he told her playfully.
     “Are you making fun of me?” 
     She looked out the window at the network of fountains and terraces built into the levee by the dock.  The design showed creativity uncharacteristic of many new additions to the downtown landscape.  A thirty-foot tall sculpture by Frank Hayden overlooked the channels and waterfalls of the small park.  She thought about how pretty it was, and how out of place with the rest of the city. 
     “No, Jessica.  I’m really not in the same league as you are.  People probably look at us and wonder what you see in me.  I wonder the same thing.  You’re so beautiful, and I’m so plain.  I find it hard to believe too.”
     “You’re crazy, Conrad.  You one of the most handsome men I’ve ever met, and you’re a good person.  That’s why I think I’m dreaming sometimes.”
     “If I woke up and found out this was all a dream, I wouldn’t be alone.  I would have a big puddle of goo between my legs to keep me company.”
     “You’re sick, Conrad,” she laughed whole-heartedly at the image.  “Can you promise me something?”
     “I can, and I may.  What is it?”
     “We can have all the wild, kinky sex you want, but you have to cuddle with me when we’re done.  And you have to talk to me, too.  Incredible sex isn’t good enough for me.  I want to be appreciated,” she said as she pouted her lower lip. She fingered the tear in her stockings, and that reminded her to ask Conrad to take her shopping for sexy clothes.
     “I will appreciate you, baby.  I promise with all my heart,” he kissed her tenderly and ran his fingers through her hair.
     Warmth spread through Jessica’s stomach again.  “Conrad, can we go back home?  I want to lie next to you and listen to your heartbeat.  I can’t think of anything that I would rather do.”
     “We can do whatever you want.  I wanted to make you feel special tonight.  I hope I didn’t screw up too bad.”
     “You made me feel very special.  You did everything right.  I didn’t like sitting way over here after we left the club, but you couldn’t have done anything about that.  Now take me home like I asked,” she commanded.
     “Yes, ma’am.”
     The red Mustang pulled away from the riverside fountains and gardens, and turned around in the middle of the street.  The castle on the bluff observed their departure silently.  It had observed the comings and goings on the river for over a century.  A thick fog wafted out from the river after they were gone, and milky vapor obscured all the sights.

Chapter Seventeen

     The telephone in the living room rang with an annoying shrill.  Jessica leaned over on the couch and answered it, even though she hated phones.  Conrad went to the closest Lebanese restaurant to pick up dinner, and she didn’t want him to miss a call because of her issues.  The book on her lap tumbled to the floor as she picked up.
     “Hello,” she said, more annoyed than she intended.
     “Ms. Sinclair?”  The voice at the other end sounded like an older man.
     For a second Jessica’s heart leapt into her throat, but then she responded dutifully, “Yes.”  She hoped it was a good phone call.  She rarely got good phone calls.
     “What a pleasure to speak to you at last!  I’m John Ryland, Conrad’s father.”
     “Oh! I though you were somebody bad for a second,” she gasped with relief.
     “I am somebody bad, Ms. Sinclair, but I am very good at being so.”  A deep chuckle sounded from the other end of the phone.
     “Conrad warned me about you.  He said you like to flirt with young ladies.”
     “Damn that boy.  He always spoils my fun.  Actually, I didn’t call to hear your voice, though I must admit that it is very pleasant.  I called because Conrad asked me about a painting.”
     “You have to be talking about a beach landscape.”
     “Yeah.  He claimed you painted one that was almost identical.”
     “I think Conrad probably exaggerated the similarities.  Our relationship developed like a whirlwind.  He may have envisioned…”
     “I would bet they are the same beach house.  How long have you lived in Baton Rouge, Jessica?”
     “Only since I started college four years ago.”
     “If you haven’t noticed by now, strange things happen here.  Everybody knows everybody, but that’s only the beginning.  Some of the people you see passing you on the street aren’t even real.  They’re ghosts.  Baton Rouge is one big ghost town, and the spirits have no better place to go.”
     “Are you trying to freak me out, Mr. Ryland?”
     “Not at all.  The spirits can’t hurt you, so there’s no cause for alarm.  It’s good to see them as they really are, though.”
     Jessica got the strange feeling the conversation happened before.  She could hear herself playing the skeptic before the words ever came out of her mouth.  She didn’t even believe the words she spoke, but she spoke them anyway.  She even knew the response before it came.  It was in the forefront of her mind, but she couldn’t put her finger on it.
     “I’m sure the paintings are different.  Did you find the one by Conrad’s grandfather?”
     “I called to tell him I gave it to his mother almost twenty years ago.  It’s eerie.  I thought I saw it just the other day.  I thought I put it under a stack of other paintings, but when I looked there was only a photograph of my father sitting in a chaise lounge and smiling.  That was when I remembered I gave that particular beach landscape to my ex-wife.”
     “I’ll tell him.  By the way, we planned to come see you, but we’ve been very busy.  I’m looking forward to meeting you, though.”
     “Somehow I knew you were going to say that.  See you then, Ms. Sinclair.  It was nice talking to you.’
     After she hung up the phone a brief case of the creeps took hold of the hairs at the base of her neck and stood them on end.  Hearing Conrad’s father call her, “Ms. Sinclair,” made Jessica feel a lot older than she wanted to, and for a second she imagined the inscription on her tombstone would say the same thing.  The thing the old man told her about ghosts on the street caused her skin to crawl.  She forced herself to think about something else, like butterflies and rainbows.
     Jessica’s fantasy went sour along the way.  A swarm of rabid butterflies were tearing the flesh from a shrieking leprechaun when Conrad walked through the door with their dinner.  The sudden noise startled her, and she screamed.  Conrad almost dropped the bag full of food.
     “What happened?  What’s wrong?”  Conrad asked her with adrenaline rushing to his brain.
     “Your father called.  I guess I got weirded out.”
     “That explains everything.  What did he say?”
     “It wasn’t so much the things he said as the way he said them, and the way I reacted.  I got the strongest feeling we had talked before.  Conrad, do you think Baton Rouge is full of ghosts?”
     “If he told you that, he must have liked you.  He doesn’t tell everybody about that.  He’s right, you know.  Baton Rouge is haunted.  I’ve seen too many strange things not to believe it, and I practice skepticism.”
     “That’s great.  I’m going to have nightmares now,” Jessica said with a pout.
     Conrad giggled and put down the food, and then he closed the distance between them.  He climbed over a mound of garbage bags and then on top of Jessica, biting her neck and growling.  She screeched when he hit a ticklish spot, but then she latched onto him and bit him back.  They pried loose from each other after a moment, mostly because they were both very hungry.
     As they sat down at the table to eat Jessica realized she forgot about the painting.  She wasted no time in mentioning, “Your dad said he gave that beach landscape to your mother twenty years ago.”
     “That’s impossible.  I saw it at his house a few months ago.  He must be stoned.  He just told me where to find it last Sunday.”
     “He told me he looked there, but he only found a photograph of your grandfather.” Jessica cut herself short when a memory of a dream she had Sunday morning jolted her awareness.  The image of the smiling old man hovered in front of her for an instant.  She was about to mention it, but Conrad spoke first.
     “I have some pictures of my family if you’d like to see them after we eat.”
     “I would love to see them.  I want to meet everyone in your family.”
     Twenty minutes later they were full as ticks.  The chicken shwarma was cooked to perfection, and for a few minutes they sat there without moving.  Conrad still couldn’t believe how much food his diminutive girlfriend could put away.  Once again she had outdone him.  He felt weak thinking about it, but then he remembered their plan.
     “I’ll go get my photographs.  It won’t take long to look at them.  I don’t like pictures very much.”
     The photographs were in a box at the bottom of the closet, behind most of Jessica’s disordered belongings.  Two large rubber bands held the box together, but pictures still threatened to leak out at the corners.  Conrad brought the box over to the sofa, and they sat down with the box between them.  There was a thick layer of dust on the lid, and once opened it was apparent that the dust had penetrated into the box.  They had to wipe off the top layer of pictures to see them clearly.
     The foremost photograph showed a small black and white dog of mixed breed.  The little dog stood in the middle of an unknown grassy area, and was looking straight at the camera.  The animal had a miniature beard of fine gray hair, and there was a grin on its face.  Even on film the intelligence of the animal was obvious.
     “That’s a picture of my first dog, or the first dog I knew well enough to call my own.  His name was Satchmo.  He really was my best friend,” Conrad informed her in a sentimental voice.  He remembered why there was so much dust on the box.  Most of the pictures were of the dead.
     “I think that may be the cutest picture of a dog I have ever seen,” cooed Jessica.
     “You should be glad he’s not around anymore to hear you say that.  Satchmo was very sensitive about his appearance.  He went to great lengths not to be cute.  There’s a good chance he would have acted viciously if he heard you call him cute.”
     “Stop it, Conrad.  He’s adorable.”
     “I was very serious.  I hope he doesn’t haunt you for that.”
     The next few pictures were of an older couple.  They were photographed in a number of locations.  One showed them at a beach.  Another showed them fishing on the side of a muddy river.  Conrad explained each picture.  They were his deceased maternal grandparents.  The locations were Destin, Florida, Port Vincent, Louisiana, and Odessa, Texas.  Jessica looked at each photograph with silent respect, not sure of what to say.  She began to regret asking to see the pictures.
     The next picture in the stack was of a smiling old man in a chaise lounge.  He had a slight build, and the complexion of dark olives.  He wore sunglasses in the photograph, and that drew attention to the bright sunlight streaming down all around him.  The photograph was black and white, but the detail was startling.
     “Conrad, I dreamed about that man.  I saw him in a dream the morning after that girl was shot.  Who is he?”  The sense of the surreal crept back into the room, and concern oozed out of Jessica’s voice.
     “That’s a picture of my deceased paternal grandfather.  Are you sure it’s the same person?”
     “It’s not only the same person, it’s the same scene.  Look,” Jessica jumped off of the couch and returned with her sketchbook, “I drew what I saw.”
     The rough pencil image closely resembled the one in the photograph, and was identical to the one John Ryland found in his, though they didn’t know that at the time.  The hairs stood up on the back of Jessica’s neck again, but she didn’t feel threatened.  Instead a sense of warmth seemed to spread over her extremities.  Conrad felt a similar reaction to what he saw.  He felt like he had just scraped the top of his head on a low ceiling, and the hot sensation lingered in his scalp for a couple of minutes.
     “This is too weird.  I feel like I’m on drugs, and I’m going to wake up tomorrow and this will all have been a figment of my imagination,” Conrad managed to voice his feelings at last, somewhat breathlessly.
     “For the past few days I’ve had hot flashes, and the fleeting sensation that I lost time somewhere.  Then déjà vu will strike me so hard I almost know every single thing that’s going to happen before it does.  What do you think it all means?”  Jessica held the photograph in awe.  It was the first event of her life that logic could not explain.
     “I don’t know.  There’s no way to know if it means anything at all.  My father said that great loves bend time and space.  That message recurs throughout history, among the greatest thinkers and artists of all time.  The Romantic poets believed that lovers called down thunderstorms.  Shakespeare wrote his great tragedy of the poor star-crossed youths that never had a chance, but loved to the fullest anyway.  There’s so much more to love than I ever thought possible.  I think strange things have taken place all around us because we got together.
     “I felt a sense of déjà vu from the first night we spent together.  The next morning when I took the bus to your house I knew we would wind up together.  I couldn’t think about anything but you.  Even right now I have the sensation that the whole universe is slowly spinning around your face.  I can see stars twinkling in your beautiful green eyes.”
     “You make my knees weak, Conrad.  I can hardly stand to see your face when you look at me like that.  Sometimes I feel like you own me, but it’s not a bad thing.  It’s more like I belong to you, and you belong to me.”  She reached out her fingers and pushed Conrad’s hair back from his eyes.
     “You are so beautiful.”
     “No, you are,” she told him right back.
     “Guys aren’t beautiful, Jessica.”
     “One of them is.”
     Conrad started laughing, and Jessica leaned closer to him, as if to smell out the source of his humor.  He saw the look on her face, and told her without prompting, “I just thought about how we would sound to an eavesdropper.  Not only are we totally insane, but we are so sickeningly sweet it rots the mind. ‘You’re beautiful.’  ‘No, you’re beautiful.’  I think the sex has addled our mental functions.”
     “I should hope so.  We’ve spent a lot of time in bed since we got together.  Too much more and I may need time to recuperate.”
     Conrad held her close and looked out the window.  The darkening skies evidenced the gathering of a thunderstorm.  At that moment he knew beyond any doubt that nothing bizarre had befallen them.  Everything they saw and felt and everything they heard and smelled was a measure of the love they felt for each other.  Once in a great while a love came along that shattered barriers between imagination and reality.  Theirs was such a love.  The same thought inched its way through Jessica’s awareness, and she thought about the taste of Conrad’s mouth on hers.  It all became clear.  There was no hidden meaning, only wonder upon wonder, revelations and exaltations.
     “Do you really think Baton Rouge is full of ghosts, Conrad?”
     “No, I don’t.  I think a lot of the people we see are empty husks.  The spirits of the place departed a long time ago.”
     “That’s kind of depressing and heavy.  You’re a strange boy, Conrad Ryland.  I should have stayed away from you.  My mother warned me about people like you.”
     “Your mother warned you about people.  Look how much good it did.  I’m sorry, though.  I’ll try not to wax heavy or melancholic.”
     “It’s okay.  You’re probably right.  I don’t sense a lot of hope in this city.  I almost ended my life here, and I don’t think the depression I felt came completely from inside me.”
     “We should move away from here as soon as you graduate.  I’ve wanted to leave this town most of my life.  I think it would do us a world of good to experience a place less crowded with shadows and memories.”
     “It’s so easy to stay here.  Do you think it would be wise for us to tempt fate?” Jessica asked him earnestly.
     “It’s easy to remain in Baton Rouge like it’s easy for a fly to remain trapped in a spider web.  If you want to stay, we will, but do you really want to stay here?”
     “Hell no.  I like LSU, but the rest of this town is a…”
     “A what?  A ghost town?”
     “It’s a wasteland.  Let’s do it.  Let’s move after I graduate.”
     “I’ve given this a lot of thought already, Jessica.  We’ll have to be picky about the possessions we take with us.  Moving long distances can cost a lot of money.  We’ll have to…”
     “Slow down.  I still want to meet your mother and father.  I need to make peace with my parents, or at least inform them of my decision.  We haven’t even talked about this before.  There’s a lot of things we would need to take care of first.”
     “And we will.  I’ll introduce you to my mother first.  She’s not crazy like my father.  She’s a great lady, as long as we don’t talk about anything serious.  She loves me too much, so our conversations about life can heat up sometimes.”
     “I repeat, ‘Slow down, Conrad.’  Earth calling Conrad.  We have all the time in the world to plan the things we want to do.  I’m not going anywhere, baby.  I love you.  For the first time in my life I truly love.  I want to spend the rest of my life with you.”
     Conrad took a deep breath and continued, in a rush, “We’ll have to get married, of course.  And then there’s the question of children.”
     Jessica grabbed his hands and wrestled him back onto the couch.  She planted her lips on his and silenced all of the silly things coming out of his mouth.  He tried to pull away from her, excitement having overwhelmed his good sense, but she drew her knees up until she straddled his chest.  He was pinned down beneath all of her weight.
     “Listen to me very closely, my beautiful man.  We can talk about all of those things one at a time.  I’m just as excited about our relationship as you are, but are you trying to freak me out?  Did you just say children?”
     A light bulb lit up behind Conrad’s eyes.  He recognized the way he had spoken.  It was the babbling of a lovesick idiot.  He strove to calm down with great effort, and the second time it worked.
     “I’m not trying to freak you out.  I apologize.  I won’t bring up the ‘c’ word again.  You know, Jessica, I think something changed inside of me.”
     “What’s that?”
     “I’m not scared anymore.  It was like a bunch of gears were turning in my mind for days, and then they all clicked on the same spot.  I know we’re supposed to be together, and all of my fear is gone.”
     “I know what you mean.  I’m not scared anymore either.  We didn’t make a mistake by moving in together.  In fact, moving in with you is the most right thing I have ever done in my life.”
     “I love you so much it hurts, but it’s a good hurt.  I want you to understand that we aren’t stuck in this apartment.  We can go anywhere and do anything.  I will do whatever it takes to make you happy.  I want you to know that.”
     “Would you chain yourself to a tree for me?”
     “As long as you were with me.”
     “Would you start a revolution?”
     “Only if the people cared enough to participate.  This place is a lost cause, but there may be a place out there open to it.”
     “You already started a revolution, honey.  We are the revolution.”  She kissed him again, and they breathed the same air in contented warmth.
     “I used to play Dungeons and Dragons.”
     “I know.  You told me.”
     “The first time I ever felt truly alive was when I pretended to be someone else.  I had friends, you know, Buzz and Jake and a kid named Merlin.  We had so much fun I never wanted it to end.  The other kids called us ‘The Goobers’ Guild’, but we didn’t care.  Things changed after a few years.  Pretending wasn’t so much fun anymore.  Hormones and growing up changed a lot of things for me, but I never forgot the feeling of exhilaration I got from role playing games.  My friendships with those guys lasted forever because of it.
     “I guess what I’m trying to say is that as much fun as those times were, the sensation can’t even compare to how I feel when I’m with you.”
     “You really are a goober, Conrad.  You just told me I’m more fun than a role playing game,” she giggled and tickled his ribs.
     “My friends are the same way.  I guess I’m guilty by association.”
     “I never played games with other people, but I play games with myself.  I sit and think about all of the crazy things that are happening outside.  I can spend hours daydreaming about the loves, the betrayals, the violence and the serenity.  If you think about it, the world is like one big game.  You never know what’s going to happen next.  Life hinges on decisions like the toss of a dice.  Sometimes lives hang in the balance, and other times your decisions make no difference at all.  Real life fascinates me.  I would never need to pretend.”
     “I think we played roles because the ones we had in real life were too painful for us to enjoy, Jessica.  Now that I’m older it seems kind of immature.  I think about life a lot, too.  That’s why I don’t have a television set.  Who needs to pretend when the real thing is so much more engrossing? 
     “I’ve spent hours wondering about Cynthia Duplessis.  I didn’t know her, and God knows why I rushed out and tried to save her.  Once our paths crossed our spirits linked momentarily.  I heard she died last night, and I felt relief that her troubles ended.  I don’t know how I knew that, but I did. The person that killed her will pay for it in one way or another.
     “The lives of all people everywhere are interconnected.  I think the crosscurrents and interactions are more visible in Baton Rouge than in other places.  There are so many dead end lives here that the vibrant people stand out.  Flames burn more brightly in the darkness.”
     “Please tell me you aren’t making some sort of racial generality, Conrad.”
     “Why would you think I was?  Despair and hopelessness doesn’t recognize racial boundaries.  Money won’t necessarily cure it either, but I think it probably helps.  I’m just saying, a lot of people here act like zombies.  The people that live life to the fullest are few and far between.”
     “You’re doing it again.  You’re talking about heavy, depressing things.”
     “That’s why we need to move.”
     “We need to move to the bed right now.  I’m going to sleep.  You kept me from doing my reading again, too.  You’re such a bad boy.”
     “Don’t give me that.  You know you’re too intelligent to need to read for your classes.”
     “But I still need to sleep.  How ironic.”
     “Do you think everything is going to be okay, Jessica?”
     “Yes, I honestly do.”
     “I do too, and that blows my mind.”
     “Come on, Conrad.  Let me go.  I have to go to bed.”
     “You have to meet my mother.  She’s a librarian, you know.”
     “No, I didn’t, but that explains a lot,” she teased while she attempted to pull away again.  Conrad grabbed her butt and held on to her tightly.
     “I love you,” he told her with incredible seriousness.
     “I love you too.  Now let me go.”
     She emphasized her demand with a hard jab to his abdomen.  The air exploded from his lungs, and he let her go.  She grabbed one of his legs and pulled him off the couch.  He hit the ground with a thud, and then got up and followed her to bed.  Once they got there they couldn’t keep their hands off each other.
     Outside the clouds opened up and a deluge fell from the sky.  Lightning struck over and over.  It sounded like the heavens were splitting apart.  The strikes followed each other so closely that there was no distinction between the crashes.  The unusually intense thunderstorm was confined to a relatively small area slightly north of the university on Nicholson Drive.  Several of the vehicles in its path sustained hail damage, including a red Ford Mustang.  The owner was busy with her boyfriend during the thunderstorm, so busy she didn’t even notice the hail.  She thought a wandering drunk caused the damage when she saw it the next morning.  The thunderstorm also knocked out power for about three hours, which irritated residents for blocks in every direction.  Jessica and Conrad could not have cared less.  They found happiness in each other’s arms.  A thunderstorm, hail, power outages, those things were insignificant by comparison.  The world could have ended that night, but they would have gone on loving each other.