Big Easy (Cowboy Craze)

by Sable Hunter

  “Now, wait a minute…” He began to protest – but she cut him off.

  “No. I think we should keep clear boundaries in our relationship. Neighbors. Landlady and tenant.”

  Easy frowned, already missing what he was being told he couldn’t have. “I don’t like boundaries.” He also wasn’t used to being told ‘no’ by a woman.

  “And I don’t like the idea of being the next in your long line of conquests.” Jewel gave a little wave as she took her leave. “Enjoy your crawfish.”

  CHAPTER TWO

  “Come in, Elwood.” Jewel invited her guest inside her home. “Have a seat at the table. I’ll be with you in a moment.” After shutting the door, she hurried to the kitchen to turn off the teakettle. “I’ll be right there after I pour our tea.”

  “Yes, ma’am.” He took off his blue baseball cap to hang it on the back post of the ladderback chair.

  Taking two cups from the cabinet, she spooned loose Keenum tea into the cup, then added hot water. “Two cubes of sugar. Right, Elwood?”

  “Right. I don’t know how you keep everything straight, Miss Jewel.”

  She could hear the nerves in the older man’s voice. Even though he’d come for several readings, he always acted as if he shouldn’t be there. “Some things stick with me. On the other hand, I lose my car keys regularly.”

  After stirring in the sugar and adding a bit of lemon to her cup, she carried the tea to the living room and sat down across from her guest. “All right. Here you go. Just drink this at your leisure while we go about our business. I’ll read the leaves at the end of the session.”

  “Okay.” He took an uneasy sip, making a bit of a slurping noise. “I appreciate you working me in. Henry’s been gone for almost a week and I’m very worried about him.”

  “I know you are. Henry’s important to you.” She shuffled the cards and laid them out for him to cut. “How are you feeling, Elwood? Are you sleeping well?”

  He cut the cards and shrugged. “So-so. The dreams rob me of rest.”

  “I’m so sorry.” A military vet, Elwood had served his country as a medic in Vietnam. What he’d seen in his day didn’t bear thinking about. “PTSD is a pain to live with. I have some things to send home with you that I think will help. Remind me.”

  Elwood took a sip of tea. “I will. Thank you.”

  “So, we need to find Henry.” She tapped the cards, then laid them out in a grid pattern. Three rows of three. Reading the cards was part of it, but Jewel also used them as a psychic trigger. Sometimes, images just came to mind. “When was the last time you saw him?”

  “Monday. After work. He came to the back porch like he always does and I let him in. Stayed with me until after the ten o’clock news. When Conan O’Brien came on the TV, he went to the door and asked to get out. I haven’t seen him since. I called and called. Drove around. Walked the property. There’s no sign of him. I’m afraid…”

  “Well, Elwood, I’ve told you about cats before. Inside cats can live to the ripe old age of seventeen years, while outdoor cats average only two to five years.”

  “Well, Henry has already beat those odds,” he mumbled, then groaned. “I know. I know. I just hate to shut him up. He loves to tomcat around with the women. I pray nothing’s happened to him; I hope some girl cat’s in heat and he’s just hanging around her.” He took another sip of tea. “If you can just bring him home, Miss Jewel, I’ll keep him in the house. I promise.”

  “Now, Elwood. You know I don’t make things happen; I just discern them.” She studied the cards. “How’s your daughter?”

  He smiled. “She’s good. She works at the library at Harvard, you know.”

  “I know you’re proud of her.” She gave him a quick grin. “And you have every right to be.” Twisting her mouth, she huffed out a breath of air. “Let’s do this again.” Jewel picked up the cards, then reshuffled them. “Cut ‘em for me.”

  “All right.” He did as she asked. “I believe you can make things happen. I know your mother could.”

  Jewel pressed her lips together. “Yea, she could make things happen all right.”

  Like making the whole parish turning against them.

  After laying the cards out once more, she studied them. “I swear, that cat of yours has nine lives. He’s not dead.”

  Elwood leaned over the table and stared at the cards himself. “You can see that?”

  “I can feel it.” She pointed at the cup. “Drink your tea.”

  While he drank with one hand, she tugged his other over to read. “You’ve got so many calluses, it’s hard to see the lines.”

  Elwood chuckled. “Thirty years as a brick mason will do that, all right.” He drained the glass. “What do you see besides too much hard work?”

  Jewel closed her eyes and held his hand tightly. “I see a…trap.”

  “A trap?” The concern furrowed his brow. “Where?”

  “He’s in a nutria trap behind Ted Babcock’s house.” She stood up and took the tea cup from him. “Forget the tea. You need to hurry. The water’s rising. You have to get him out quickly.”

  Elwood grabbed his cap from the chair. “All right. I’ll hurry.” He took off toward the door. “Oh, I owe you.” Pausing, he reached in the back pocket of his jeans.

  “No. Go.” She ran to open the door for him. “You can pay me when you stop to pick up the oils and crystals I’ll gather to help with your sleep.”

  “Thank you, Ms. Jewel. Thank you so much.” He fished for his keys. “I’ll hurry right over.”

  “Watch the steps.” She followed him out on the porch. “And make sure you stop at the railroad crossing before you get to his house. There’s going to be an accident there soon and I don’t want it to be you.”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  She leaned on the railing to watch him leave. Once the car lights disappeared, there was nothing left but the night. A magical night. As far as her eyes could see into the pitch blackness, the swamp was lit by thousands of tiny fireflies blinking in the darkness like so many twinkling lights. It didn’t take too much imagination to believe these were the fairies who lived in the houses she loved so much.

  Meanwhile…

  On the front porch of Witch Hazel’s house, Easy watched Jewel as she stared serenely out into the darkness. The light from the moon seemed to bathe her in an iridescent silvery blue light. She was simply haunting.

  He was just about to call her name when another car came lumbering down the road, it’s tires seeming to stumble over the bumpy stones. In a few moments, a car door opened, and a large woman emerged. Easy could hear her labored breathing from where he stood.

  “Hey, Irma.”

  “Jewel.”

  “Come on up, Irma. I’ve been waiting for you.”

  “All right. Don’t wait supper,” Irma called in a self-deprecating tone. “It’ll take me awhile to get there.”

  Easy watched, wondering if he should offer her aid. How she would climb those stairs with her heft, he had no idea. The woman must weigh over three-hundred pounds. From where he stood, Easy gave the poor lady mental support, his breathing syncing with the huffs and puffs as she pulled herself up each step. To his surprise, she made it. Once she came to the next to last step, she sat down hard and let out a loud exhale.

  Jewel came to her almost immediately, handing her a glass. “Here’s some water. I wish you’d let me come to you. I hate for you to have to make this effort.”

  Before speaking, Irma took a few sips of water. “Are you kidding?” the woman finally asked with a winded laugh. “This is the only exercise I ever get.”

  “Shoot. You get out and about. Church. Shopping.”

  “The Casino,” Irma added with a weak giggle.

  Easy followed their progress until they went indoors. “Well, that was interesting.” He would’ve loved to be a fly on the wall for their session.

  He stood there, gazing wistfully at the neighboring house, until he heard a hiss coming from his kitche
n. “Oh, hell. My crawfish!” Taking off, he ran to rescue his supper before it boiled over onto the stove.

  …Next door, Jewel faced Irma, giving her time to catch her breath. The woman’s cheeks were florid and all three of her chins were trembling. “Drink some more water.”

  Irma scoffed, but did as she was told. After downing an inch or so, she stuck her tongue out. “Yech. I hate water. I much prefer a sugary soft drink,” she said as she lifted her arm, letting the fat jiggle. “As you can tell too well.”

  “I understand. I do too.” Jewel waited until the woman could take a normal amount of air into her lungs. “Okay. What can I do for you today?” She could probably guess, but decided to wait and be told.

  Irma hung her head. “I don’t feel good.”

  “Oh? What seems to be the problem?”

  “Other than the obvious?” Irma asked, then let her head doddle back and forth to indicate she knew what Jewel was going to say.

  “Stop it.” The woman was a master at self-deprecation. Jewel didn’t have to be able to read her mind to know Irma put herself down before anyone else could do so. “Seriously. What’s going on?”

  “I don’t know.” She put her hands together, fingertips pointing upward as if in prayer. “I’m bleeding. At the wrong time of the month.” Leaning back in her chair, she touched the lower bulge of her large stomach that laid midway down her thigh. “I hurt. Low here. Sometimes feels like everything’s gonna fall out.”

  Jewel pressed her lips together and took a breath, holding it before letting it out slowly. She shuffled the cards, had Irma cut them, then laid them out in the familiar grid pattern. After a slight shake of her head and another breath, she raised her head to glance at Irma. There was fear in the woman’s face – and rightly so. “You need to go to the doctor, Irma. Soon.”

  “I can’t.” She looked anguished. “I just can’t.”

  “Why not?”

  “I just can’t.” The words were pleading. Emotional. “Just give me something. Your mama would’ve given me something.”

  “Maybe.” Jewel chose her words carefully. “I think you should see a doctor. Once you do, I’ll give you some things that might help.”

  “I’d rather just take what you give me. I don’t want to go to the doctor.”

  Jewel could see her face was full of fear. She gave Irma a supportive smile. “The tests won’t be bad.”

  Irma put both elbows on the table and held her head in her hands. “I’m not afraid of the tests. Or the pain.”

  “What are you afraid of?” Tuning in to the vibes coming off the poor woman, Jewel could almost answer the question herself.

  “I don’t want the doctors and nurses to have to look at me. Touch me.” She lifted her arms and flung her hands down toward her lap. “I’m ashamed for them to see me.”

  Jewel wanted to tell her how silly that sounded – but she didn’t. “That’s their job. They deal with all sorts of people. They’re professionals.”

  “They’re people. With eyes.” She closed her own eyes as if hiding from the world. “I’d almost rather die than the doctors and nurses have to take care of me. Although, I dread dying too. I dread what the undertakers will say down at Godsey’s Funeral home when they get me laid out on the embalming table like a beached whale. I’m trying to work up enough courage to be cremated.”

  Jewel’s heart broke for Irma. There was no use telling her she wouldn’t know or care what the undertakers said as they worked on her body. There wasn’t even any use telling her she should’ve pushed away from the table a few more times in her life. No, what Irma needed was a suit of armor to wear to protect her against what she thought other people were thinking. “Irma, I tell you what.” Jewel rose to go to one of her apothecary cabinets. “There is something I can give you now.”

  “What’s that?” Irma perked right up. Hope shining in her eyes.

  While Jewel fished around inside the top drawer of the ornate mahogany cabinet, she chanted in her mind, “Give Irma confidence. Let her see the good in herself and believe others see it too. Confidence. Hope. Faith.” Taking a wooden box in hand, she returned to Irma. “Wear this.” Jewel opened the box and pulled out a necklace.

  “Oh, my.” Irma’s face lit up at the sight of the beautiful ruby stone. “I can’t take that. I don’t have enough money.”

  Jewel smiled. “I want you to borrow this for a while. When you put it around your neck, people will only focus on your beautiful qualities.”

  “I don’t have any beautiful qualities,” she whispered but held out her hand anyway.

  “Oh, yes you do,” Jewel told her with a nod. “Big green eyes. A wonderful smile. Pretty hair.”

  Irma pulled the long chain over her neck. “So, I can wear this, and people won’t see the real me?”

  “No. They will see the real you. You can wear it with confidence. Hold up your head and march into that doctor’s office and I promise you that no one will say a thing other than how they can help you.”

  Patting the stone, Irma nodded. “Okay. I’ll go.”

  “Wonderful. Perfect.” Jewel covered Irma’s hand with hers. “You go to the doctor and see what he says. When you get the test results back, come see me. If you have to have some type of procedure, I’ll whip up some whibbidy-bibbidy to help.” Her mind was already racing. If she was right in what she read in the cards and Irma’s face, the woman had cancer. What kind she wasn’t sure, but it was clear she needed to go to the doctor. Later, if need be, she’d try some of her mother’s remedies. Scorpion venom immediately came to mind as one of the things she could try. Moringa, bloodroot, and cannabis were herbs she would use to help Irma also.

  “All right. I’ll give you a call as soon as I know something.” She dug in her pocket to pay.

  “No charge today,” Jewel told her. “Just get yourself to the doctor.”

  “Thank you, Jewel.” Irma hugged her, then cupped the ruby. “I feel so much better. You have the same good heart as your mother, you know.

  “I appreciate you saying so.”

  She left, holding tightly to the rail for support. When she reached the bottom, she paused to breathe and looked back up the stairs. “You know what you just told me; you do the same. Pay no attention to what people say about you and your mother, Jewel.”

  The smile on Jewel’s face faded. Every reminder caused her pain. “All right. I won’t.” She raised a hand in farewell, then retreated quickly inside, shutting the door to keep the world at bay.

  Once inside, she couldn’t seem to settle down. She thought about Elwood and Henry, even going to her table to lay out the cards one more time. Seeing a positive sign, she nodded and smiled, knowing the old man needed his cat.

  Jewel also considered Irma, how she’d put herself at risk to avoid the judgmental attitude of others. She knew this was a problem for many overweight people, primarily women, who neglected their healthcare to escape the risk of humiliation. Of course, this fear – while inadvisable and dangerous – was not unfounded. There were many instances when health professionals did use the tactic of fat shaming individuals in hopes of changing their behavior…or because they’d been indoctrinated in a system in which weight bias was rampant. This was a situation Jewel had experienced with her own paternal grandmother who’d been overweight. She’d researched the topic and found that doctors didn’t feel the same about treating obese patients versus those of a normal weight. Many doctors thought seeing heavy patients was a waste of time. They felt less patience toward their obese clientele, considering them to be annoying. Jewel just hoped that if Irma went into the clinic with a positive attitude, she’d be dealt with in a considerate manner.

  Prejudice of any kind sucked. She ought to know, she’d experienced it firsthand.

  Glancing at the clock, Jewel saw her last client of the evening would be arriving momentarily. Truthfully, they were all her mother’s clients first, hers only by inheritance. Yet…they kept coming and she couldn’t turn them away.
>
  Walking to the window by the pedestal dining table, she leaned her head against the cool glass. Was this how she wanted to spend her life? Like her mother did? And her mother before her? Shouldn’t she have some sort of ambition to be…something else?

  After all, she was fairly young. Twenty-four. Going to college at her age was not unheard of.

  But what would she do? Get a teacher’s certificate? Jewel pinched her lips together at the idea of a local school hiring her. “Oh, law…” she whispered, using one of her mother’s favorite non-cussing words. “I can’t imagine any Louisiana schoolboard voting to give me a job.” As the daughter of one of the bayou’s most infamous witches, she’d have to move across the country to escape her family’s reputation.

  Perhaps, she could get a business degree. Be an accountant. A bookkeeper. “Yikes.” Just the thought made her shiver. The idea of being trapped in a windowless cubicle all day dealing with columns of numbers was far scarier than running into a Rougarou on a dark night.

  With a sigh, she acknowledged the truth.

  She didn’t want to leave home. She enjoyed what she did. Jewel viewed her abilities not only as a gift, but also as a calling.

  Staring out into the darkness, she let her eyes focus on her mother’s house. Seeing a light in the window made her feel…odd. She’d grown up in that raised cottage, yet she’d only felt at home where she lived now. Her father’s house.

  While gazing at the illuminated window, Jewel contemplated the man she’d allowed to move in next to her. As she recalled the events of the afternoon, she reached around to her back to touch the bee sting. Jewel couldn’t fault his kindness. He was a very polite guy, considering what she’d read in his palm. “Wow.” Mr. Blackhawk was a handsome man who was never without a woman on his arm – a different one every night.

  But what she’d read in his cards…

  “Snap out of it.” The lights from an approaching car alerted Jewel that company was coming. “You’ve got to be on your toes for this one.”

  When the tap came on the door, Jewel actually jumped. “Silly, it’s just Willie Mae.”