By a. jewell
Date: 28 January 2000

New Orleans

     I pulled my hair, damp from the heat, off of my neck as i walked out of the Cat's Meow.  I glanced up and down the street, wondering where my next adventure would unfold.  The sticky night air reeked of liquor, cigarettes and cheap perfume.  I glanced at Travis as his fingers fought with a cheap lighter.  He cursed under his breath just as a flame lept up.  The end of his Camel burned red as he closed his eyes and took a long, lazy draw.  He slowly exhaled and looked at me with glazed eyes compliments of a few shots of Gentleman Jack.  The music from a nearby blues bar escorted my mind farther into the depths of this newly discovered magical world.  I felt all inhibitions and worries fall to the dirty pavement below me as a large black woman sang in her warm, throaty voice about her man doing her wrong.  It was mid-July; Bourbon Street was alive, fervently sucking from the breast of carnal pleasures.  I took Travis' hand in mine, interlocking my small, chubby fingers with his long ones.  He squeezed my hand and pulled me closer; his arm resting around my waist.  
     "Where to?" he asked, kissing the top of my head. 
      I looked over his shoulder toward a group of people who were standing under a balcony about a block away.
     "Down there."
     "What is it?"
     "Don't know, guess we'll just have to investigate."
     I pulled him off the sidewalk and began leading him down the street.  A mob of at least one hundred guys was gathered in the middle of the street below a balcony of one of the clubs.  We could hear them chanting as we walked toward them; as we got closer their battle cry became clearer: 
     "SHOW YOUR TITS!  SHOW YOUR TITS!"
A young woman of perhaps twenty was standing on the balcony, taunting the crowd with promises of a "free show" in exchange for a samll "fee."  Metallic strands of plastic beads hung in the air as the men hurled them to the seductress above.  The girl shrieked with delight, lifting her shirt up to expose a little more of her upper body with each payment. I could almost smell the testosterone in the air as I leaned back against Travis.  I lauged to myself at the crowd as they gleefully regressed back to their high school years.  
      "You'd think they'd never seen any before," I remarked.
      But even Travis was caught up in the excitement.  His head craned toward the vixen as he anticipated a glimpse of the two mounds of flesh which had turned these grown men into a ball of raging hormones.  I shook my head and began to walk through the crowd.  There was a wide array of men: older men in khakkis and button up shirts, young men in shorts and t-shirts, black men, white men, men from all walks of life.  I smiled at the thought of something so trite bringing these men together.  I turned to walk back to where Travis was standing when I caught a glimpse of someone familiar.  At any other time or place, i would have recognized him immediatly; but the shock of seeing him here didn't allow his face to register in my mind.  He turned around and faced me, laughing maniacally, a huge cup of beer in his hand.  Our eyes met and all of a sudden there was nothing but us. The chanting crowd, the music, the laughter, all was lost in that moment.  I could barely find my voice.
     "Daddy."
      He began to stagger toward me.  His beer sloshed out of his cup and fell; some fell to the ground, some on his clothes.  He walked up and grabbed me as everything around me crashed into my sensed like a giant wave of water.  The crowd became a blur of colors, the chanting and music an attack on my pounding ears.  The smell of alcohol overwhelmed me as i began to feel sick deep in my stomach.  He picked me up and began to spin me around, yelling something I couldn't make out.  I became confused, disoriented.  Finally he put me down and i fought my way to the outskirts of the crowd.  He followed close behind, occasionally stepping on my heels.  I made it to a bench and sat down; my heart raced as i felt the heat rise into my face.  
     "Hey pumpkin, whatcha doin' here?"
      His words slurred together and small strings of spit flew from his lips.  I lowered my head in an attempt to regain my composure. He finished off the rest of his beer and threw the cup at my feet.  I looked up to his face.  His skin was flushed, red as the hair he had when he was a young man.  His eyes were dark as were the circles beneath them.  His lips were pulled back in a wild, lopsided grin.  My initial surprise succumbed to anger as he reached for me.  I jerked my arm out of his reach and quickly stood to my feet.  
     "Don't touch me."
     "Now don't be like that, Emma.  Give me a hug.  It's been a long time."
     "I don't want anything to do with you.  Especially when you're like this."
     "Emma, you're too much like your mother."
     I slapped him.  Not because i resent being like my mother, but because my mother was all i had after he left.  Because he's the reason she's an empty shell now.  Why she doesn't sleep at night.  
      Tears burned my eyes as I turned my back to walk away.  I could hear him calling me to come back as i searched through the crowd for Travis.  It seemed as if hours had passed, but it had been merely minutes.  The girl above had decided she had enough beads and the crowd was wild.  I saw Travis's face in the crowd and began to push my way toward him.  In a few seconds i was there; my arms wrapped around his waist, and the dam holding back my tears broke loose.  Caught off guard by my crying, he began to panic.  
      "My God, baby, what's wrong?" he asked, pushing the hair from around my face and cupping my feverish cheeks in his hands.
      Breathless, I turned to point my father but could find him nowhere.  I shook my head and collapsed against Travis's chest.  He did all he knew to do. He held me in the middle of Bourbon Street as my ears strained for the warm comfort of the blues and the night air enveloped me.  And that was enough.