She didn’t have any information to pass along to him about either of them, and she was startled that he spoke as if he expected Flora Greene to even know who he was, let alone want to see him.
“If you’re hungry, we can stop at Parrain’s for some supper,” she suggested when they approached Baton Rouge. She had loved making night time trips to Parrain’s when she’d been in college, and she hoped that in return for having given up her family Sunday dinner, she should be entitled to have a dinner at Parrain’s on the company credit card.
“You’re not from Louisiana, are you?” Megan asked Kendel after they were seated at a table in the restaurant. “Do you like seafood? We eat it here all the time.”
Kendel thought of Fontaine and her meal of mussels, crawfish, and fish, then smiled at the thought that he might eat something similar.
“What makes you smile? Are you a big fan of sea food?” Megan asked.
“I have a friend who only eats sea food,” he replied.
“Are you from the East Coast? One of those New England states where they ear lobster from breakfast, lunch, and dinner?” Megan tried to get him to open up about himself.
“No, I’m from Indiana,” he answered as a waitress came to hover over them.
Megan read the menu to him, and Kendel asked questions.
“What’s a Poboy?” he wanted to know.
“It’s a sandwich, on a long bun, like a Philly cheesesteak bun, only it’s got sauce and lettuce and tomato and meat inside. I don’t like them because they’re sloppy, but I eat them at home when no one can see me,” she giggled lightly at her confession.
Kendel chose a shrimp Poboy while Megan had a platter, and they continued to talk, as Kendel grew comfortable with the girl.
“You went to college here?” Kendel asked.
“I did, at LSU,” she said proudly.
“I don’t know much about it. I know my dad talked about IU beating them in March Madness one year,” Kendel dredged up a memory.
“My dad talked about that game too, to this day he doesn’t like Bobby Knight,” Megan shared.
Their conversation continued on as the food was delivered to the table, then it slowed to a few words between bites.
“You ran cross country?” Megan asked when Kendel mentioned it. “While blind? Did you have a tether to a leader or something?”
“I wasn’t blind then,” Kendel replied. He was growing sleepy and less careful in what he revealed. “Flora would call me every afternoon while I was running practice. I had to breath heavy on the phone while we talked, especially if I was running up hill,” he volunteered.
“She must really like you,” Megan assumed that he was speaking again about Flora Greene, and she began to wonder if somehow the strange boy really did know the star actress.
The couple finished their meal and returned to Megan’s car.
“That was good. Thank you,” Kendel said sincerely. “I haven’t had a meal that good in a long time.” Before long, he began to nod off, and Megan drove the rest of the drive to downtown New Orleans in silence.
“Kendel honey, wake up. We’re here at your hotel,” she gently rubbed his arm.
“Hmm?” he woke from a dream about Flora eating a seafood Poboy.
“I just need to know your last name in case the hotel asks me,” she checked with him as she reached over to unbuckle his seat belt.
“It’s Donne,” he told her sleepily.
Megan walked around the car and joined the valet who was opening the door for Kendel. “I’ll be inside putting him in his room for just ten minutes, then I’ll be back,” she slipped some cash to the valet, and took Kendel inside to check him into the room she had reserved for him, after which she took him up the elevator to his room.
“Tomorrow’s Monday, so call me if you need anything,” she told him. “And use the room service to order any food you need. Start thinking of a list of things you need, and I’ll pick them up for you,” she directed as she showed him around the room so that he could familiarize himself with the layout.
Later that night, when she was back in her condo and settled into her pajamas on her couch, she searched the internet for the names Flora Greene and Kendel Donne, then read in fascination about all that she didn’t know about her new temporary ward. The pictures were clearly him. He and Flora were clearly an item.
And then she discovered that he was clearly considered dead.
Chapter 25
The next morning Megan was slow to awaken after having a troubled night’s sleep. She was stunned to be looking after a boy who had died in Indiana just a few weeks before, and who was obviously a very close friend of one of Hollywood’s most visible stars, and she was now keeping the boy quietly tucked away in a French Quarter hotel. On her drive into work she contemplated whether she ought to simply call the police department in Kendel’s hometown and report that she had found the boy. But that would raise lots of questions that she wouldn’t know how to answer, and that she suspected other people weren’t willing to answer. And Kendel himself had never suggested making a call to his hometown or his family; he only wanted to talk to Flora.
“Alevia,” she left a message for Jane’s assistant, “the boy I picked up yesterday is safe, but he’s very unusual. Could you ask Jane to call me to discuss him?” she asked the next morning. She knew that the time zone difference meant that she wouldn’t hear back quickly, but she needed to do something to learn more about the situation she was facing.
During the night she considered the possibility that she might be doing something illegal by harboring and assisting someone who might be considered dead, and who might be still considered a juvenile in her state, or in his state. She had fretted over the possibility that she would go to jail and swore to herself that she would contact the Agency first thing in the morning.
With that done, she drove back to her office and called the front desk of the hotel, who promptly rang her call through to Kendel’s room.
She heard him pick the phone up, then she heard a loud clattering that made her remove her phone from her ear. A second later, Kendel’s voice spoke.
“Hello? I’m sorry I dropped the phone. It’s so big and clumsy,” he answered.
He sounded sleepy, Megan thought.
“How are you doing this morning?” she asked cheerfully. “Do you need anything?”
“Not yet. Not right away,” he answered. “It felt good to sleep in a bed with a soft mattress.”
“Have you ordered breakfast yet?” Megan wanted to know. “Just call the operator and ask for room service. What about a toothbrush or deodorant or shaving cream?” she asked. She held the opinion that he didn’t really need shaving cream and wouldn’t need to shave for a long time.
“Uh, those will be nice,” Kendel went along with her advice.
“Good. I’ll stop by a store to pick them up and then be over in a few minutes,” she advised him. “I’ll knock before I come in,” she had asked for two keys to the room when she had checked him in, and kept one key for herself.
Since the morning was pleasant, Megan walked from her office to a local drugstore to pick up a variety of hygiene items for Kendel, then walked five more minutes to his hotel, and went upstairs to his room.
“Kendel, it’s me,” she knocked and called as she opened the door.
“I’m just taking a quick shower,” Kendel’s voice rose over the sound of the streaming water through the open bathroom door. “I didn’t know you’d be so fast.”
Megan closed the bathroom door and sat down to check her phone, scrolled through some emails, then listened as Kendel fumbled with the bathroom door handle.
“Do you have a toothbrush?” he asked, holding a towel around his waist.
“Here are the toothbrush and toothpaste,” she placed the items in his hand.
A minute later there was a knock at the door, and she tipped the waiter who delivered the breakfast of bacon, sausage, eggs, pancakes, and orange juice.
; “I hope that’s not too much,” Kendel said anxiously when she guided him to sit down at the desk in his room so that he could eat his meal, which she helped cut up into bites for him, watching him intently as he gulped down the food at a frenzied pace.
“Have you heard from Flora?” he asked once between bites.
“No, not yet, but I’m trying to get hold of someone in Los Angeles. With the time zone it’s still early out there,” she made an excuse.
“That’s true,” he agreed.” I used to always forget that when I was out there last summer.”
And then her phone vibrated. She looked down at the screen and saw that it was the Los Angeles office.
“Excuse me while I take this,” she stood up and wandered out into the hall of the hotel, out of the room, as she answered.
“Hello, this is Megan,” she answered.
“Megan, this is Alevia. I got your call. What do you need to discuss with Jane?” the woman on the other end asked.
“Well,” Megan kept her voice low, “I picked the boy – Kendel – up, but he’s completely blind, and I wasn’t expecting that. And he’s really only focused on one thing – getting together with Flora Greene. And it feels genuine. And then I did a little research on him, and there are things that just don’t make sense. Does Jane know him? Is she coming out here to see him?” Megan hoped that she didn’t sound too passionate, too worried, or too deeply out of her depth.
“I’ll check with Jane and get back to you. Her morning is completely swamped, so it may not be immediately. Just keep him calm and happy, and thank you for doing such good work,” Alevia answered and ended the call without revealing anything further.
Megan hung up the phone, bit her lip, and let her mind spin to the conclusion that she was going to be on her own for a while, without any help or information unless she found a way to pry it out.
“I need to get back to the office now,” she told Kendel, back in his room. “You’ve got the television and you can order lunch from room service again. I’ll let you know what I hear. And maybe we can go out together for dinner tonight; wouldn’t that be fun?” she suggested lightly.
“You don’t think Jane or Flora will be here by nighttime?” Kendel asked intently. He was leaning in towards her, even though he couldn’t see her.
“It’s hard to say. I just thought we might plan in case,” Megan replied. She stood up and walked beside him, tousled his hear, and headed toward the door. “I’ll remember to bring a comb next time,” she promised. “Or maybe we can take you to get a haircut,” she suggested, then was out the door, leaving Kendel alone.
Chapter 26
Kendel sat in his room all morning listening to television, expecting the phone to ring at any moment with a report that Flora – or at least Jane – was on the way. By lunchtime his certainty was waning, and in the afternoon he opened a window and stood in front of it, listening to the sounds of a crowd of people passing beneath his room on the street below.
He associated New Orleans with a big party atmosphere at Mardi Gras, but he wasn’t really sure what Mardi Gras actually was. Whatever it was, it seemed to ensure that lots of people came to New Orleans.
He listened to the voices of the people below. There was a lot of laughter, he noticed, and voices were loud. He experimentally let his consciousness leave his body and begin to float down towards the people below, as he wondered if they were as happy as they sounded.
Some were, but many of them confused him with the disjointed and unbalanced spirits and thoughts that they revealed. He heard a glass bottle strike the pavement and shatter, followed by laughter and applause, and then he realized that the confusion was actually inebriation.
It was good to know that even back in the modern world, he had retained the strange ability to cast his awareness out in the world. It gave him something to compensate for the lack of vision. He had suspected that he would carry the ability back with him, in as much as the green and blue energies had stayed with him on the previous return to the modern world.
There was a sound behind him, a soft sound. He pulled his awareness up from the street and whirled it around to detect the person who had entered his room. A small part of him fantasized that it was Flora, sneaking in to see him, but when he detected his visitor it wasn’t Flora. He wasn’t certain how he knew what Flora would feel like, but he was sure that he wasn’t being visited by her at that moment.
He felt confusion, but it was a more orderly, coherent confusion in the back of the person’s mind, not at the forefront, not at that moment. There was a dollop of self-satisfaction and self-concern too, but not an outsized amount. There was curiosity and some kindness and concern.
“What has you confused?” he asked without thinking.
“You know I’m here? I tried to be so quiet!” Megan expressed laughing frustration.
“What makes you think I’m confused?” she asked. She was surprised by the perceptive question. She was confused by him and his situation and by Los Angeles’s refusal to address her questions, but she was sure he couldn’t know about any of that.
Kendel pulled his consciousness back into his body, then turned towards the direction of Megan’s voice.
He needed to be careful. He was a strange assignment for the woman, he imagined, and he didn’t want to make things any stranger for her by telling her he was reading her emotions. He didn’t want to scare her away.
He was a strange assignment; he was probably the source of her confusions he suspected.
“I was just guessing that you can’t figure out why you have to babysit me, when you’ve probably got lots of other things to do,” he answered. “Have you heard from Flora?”
“I haven’t heard anything yet,” Megan answered. “And I’m helping you, not babysitting you; it’s my pleasure to help,” she insisted. “Let’s get you out of this room so that you can stretch your legs. Would you like to go for a walk? We could go buy some sunglasses for you,” she suggested.
“And a haircut?” Kendel asked, recollecting her earlier suggestion. His hair had felt unruly when he’d washed it earlier.
“Yes, absolutely. A haircut and sunglasses and people will think I’ve found the most eligible bachelor in the city!” Megan laughed lightly.
“I don’t need anything fancy for a haircut,” Kendel grew enthusiastic about the idea of leaving the room, walking the city, and getting a haircut. The outside sounds of so many people walking about promised him exposure to energy and society and the modern world, and he was ready for all of that. A haircut would be nice; he’d be presentable for his meeting with Flora, but that was secondary to the chance to simply get out and about.
“Okay,” Megan took his hand and began to pull him forward, “nothing fancy for a haircut. We’ll find someplace that can do nothing fancy quickly, and get that taken care of,” she promised.
She led him out and down the elevator and out into the street, holding his hand the whole time. “We’ll go this way,” she suggested. “I’ll keep you close in the crowd. Let’s link arms, if you don’t mind being seen with an ordinary woman?” she asked teasingly.
“You probably aren’t that ordinary,” Kendel tried to say something polite. He let his awareness extend outward, trying to check to see if she was lacking in confidence, fishing for compliments.
She seemed comfortable and confident enough, he decided as he examined her, and they started walking. The confusion that shadowed over her seemed to have even receded as they began their stroll in the city.
“That shop looks too crowded, and the one we just passed looked too feminine,” she commented as they walked. Kendel listened with half an ear, as he let his awareness take in the flow of emotions from the people walking on the sidewalks with them – people who were happy, eager, relaxed for the most part, simply enjoying themselves. A few people had different casts of spirits, the rare ones who were angry or sad, or a few who seemed annoyed.
“Here, this place looks basic and it’s practically empty
,” Megan came to an abrupt stop that nearly loosened their linked arms, then Kendel felt her move and heard a bell ring as a door was opened, and they entered a building space.
And everything felt different. He felt both anger and fear. The emotions were coming from two separate people.
“How many other people are in here?” he asked quickly. He sensed great strength in the feeling from both the people who were virtually shouting out their conflicting passions.
“How are you? Come have a seat and tell me what you need. Will both of you have something done today?” a woman’s voice asked eagerly.
“No, just my honey today,” Megan answered cheerfully. She stood still. “Were you waiting first?” she asked someone.
“No, you go on,” a man’s voice answered gruffly.
The man was the angry one; the woman was the fearful one, Kendel sorted the situation out.
Megan stepped forward and led Kendel to a chair, where she and the hair stylist both handled him to turn him around and seat him.
“What style does he need?” the stylist seemed to ignore asking Kendel and asked Megan instead.
“Do you usually part it on the,” Megan’s voice paused as she tried to remember what she’d seen in the photos of him and Flora together, “on the left?”
“Yeah, around here,” Kendel placed a finger at the top of his forehead to indicate the spot where his part began. “And you can use clippers on the back and sides,” he added.
“I’m Lasaya,” the woman introduced herself.
“I’m Kendel,” he answered as he gave a quick shiver; she began spraying water across his head, spritzing his neck and face unexpectedly.
“You sound like you’re from around here, but he doesn’t,” Lasaya spoke to Megan.
“I’m from up north, in Shreveport,” Megan replied. “Kendel’s from the real north.”
A comb began to work quickly on the top and sides of Kendel’s head, then the back, and an electric clipper began to buzz.
The Blinded Journey Page 17
