by Lissa Kasey
Okay, so maybe I did have a hero complex.
There were three normal looking people at the counter, two women and one man, all as white bread as could be. They looked almost like missionaries or something. One of the women clutched a clipboard. “Trade with Mark,” one of the women said. “It’s not that big of a deal. I’m sure Micah won’t mind.”
“I’m not Micah. I don’t make those decisions for him. And Thursday nights have always been his graveyard night. People reserve spots months ahead of time,” Sky defended. “He’s booked solid for tonight.”
“I can take over his group for tonight,” the man said. He was a middle-aged man with glasses and faded brown hair, unremarkable. “He can even keep the registration payments.”
I stepped up to Sky’s side and for a few seconds the group ignored me, but I cleared my throat and using my no-nonsense military voice said, “Can I help you with something?”
Three pairs of eyes snapped to attention, all having to look up to meet my gaze. “Not at all, sir. We’re working on scheduling. This young man is being difficult.” The improper pronoun was an intended insult, I could tell from the expression on her face. She looked like she’d come from a renaissance faire with her long blonde hair flowing over her shoulders and a floor-length dress in a white cotton with eyelets running down the skirt. The third woman was more ordinary in jeans and a T-shirt, but also appeared several years, or maybe even a good decade younger, than the other two.
“Skylar doesn’t handle Micah’s tour scheduling. She can help you buy something if you’d like, but you’ll have to take scheduling up with Micah,” I affirmed, taking Skylar’s stance and putting more emphasis on the correct pronoun. I gave her a kind smile. “I’ll handle the register now, if you’d like.”
Sky glanced my way once and then took the opportunity to vanish into the backroom. The three continued to stare at me, like they were confused. “Do you need something else? To schedule your own tour led by Micah? Perhaps I can interest you in handcrafted metal jazz musicians? Or a deal on T-shirts? We also have a great selection of sex toys in the back.” The three grumbled something between themselves I couldn’t quite hear. “What was that?”
“Nothing,” the man said. “We will speak with Micah later.” They left after throwing me some nasty glances. I waited until they were out of sight to check the backroom. Sky was wiping her eyes, makeup a little smeared from crying.
“You okay?” I asked her.
“Sorry, sorry,” she said waving her free hand and dabbing her face. “It’s not a big deal. I haven’t been… me… very long.”
Ah, I understood. “You’ve been you all along. The world has only been acknowledging you correctly for a short period of time, right?”
She nodded.
“Don’t let those freaks stir you up. Did you see that woman’s shoes? Walmart special, right?”
Sky laughed. “Oh my God, yes. And those horrid pants? High waisters need to never come back into style. They didn’t work in the eighties and they sure don’t work now.”
I nodded. “Now how about you go dab your eyes and I’ll watch the front. If you need to take a break, I’m fine. I hear there are some really good donuts a few blocks away.”
“Heathen,” she teased. “They are called beignets.”
“I speak French,” I informed her. “French donut.”
“You’ve obviously not eaten them yet. Shame on your brother for not giving you a proper tour of the Quarter.”
“He’s kind of a big deal. Homicide detective and all. Busy guy. More important things to do than drag his little brother around town for food. I promise to try them soon. Go take a break.”
“You sure?”
“Yeah.”
She leapt at me, giving me a tight hug before racing toward the bathroom to fix her face. I returned to the store, greeted a couple who walked in and went to straighten the wall of T-shirts, which Micah had told me seemed in perpetual disarray. Sky left, dashing out the main door, down the stairs and into the hot air of the early October day. The weather would turn soon, or so Lukas had informed me. One day it would be hot and sticky, and the next it’d be rainy and freezing. No snow. Or at least next to never, but tons of rain. I liked the rain. The white noise soothing.
The couple waved me down to ask questions. I hoped I didn’t sound too much like an idiot when I tried to answer them.
“We read about the tours online,” the woman said.
“He has great reviews on Yelp,” the man said.
“One of only four certified tour guides in the city,” I boasted, though I still wasn’t quite sure what that meant other than he had more training and official authorization from the city.
“I’m Sarah,” the woman said. “This is my boyfriend, Jared. We’re from Washington State. You don’t sound like you’re from here either.”
“I just moved here,” I told them. “Was in the army. Living with my brother now.”
“Thank you for your service,” Jared said.
“You’re welcome,” I said automatically. The whole thing felt a lot like the old Catholic recitation of prayers thing. Said and copied without meaning, though it could have been my cynicism. “Micah has been a guide in the city for a while,” I turned the conversation back to the shop and away from me.
“We looked at some other tours, the swamp tour, a voodoo thing, but the history on these sound really great,” Sarah said. “Watched a few videos on YouTube. Snippets of his tour.”
“There is also a Facebook group dedicated to pictures posted from his tours, of ghosts,” Jared said.
I had no idea. “Really? People catch that many ghosts on his tours?”
“There are hundreds of photos in the group. And some crazy videos from his paranormal investigations, but he only does those a couple times a year,” Jared said. “It’s too bad we won’t be here for Halloween since he does one every year on Halloween night.”
“Crazy,” I said. “Doesn’t it scare you guys?”
“Nah,” Sarah said. “I don’t believe in any of that, but the photos are interesting.”
“I’ve seen some stuff,” Jared said, “that doesn’t make sense. Doesn’t mean I think the whole ghost thing is legit, but there’s something out there. Maybe science hasn’t measured it yet. They’ve barely figured out how the human brain works, and are still trying to map all the processes of what amounts to the jellyfish inside our heads.”
Sarah laughed. “He’s a med student. Aiming for neuroscience.”
“I have two family members with major mental illnesses,” Jared said. “I think it’s all about wiring and hoping to someday, maybe, help fix it. It’s hard to see them in pain. Science has theories. Entire lines of pharmaceuticals that the theories are based on, but I think there’s more to it. Same with people who see paranormal stuff. They can’t all be seeing things. They can’t all be crazy. Whether it’s a different set of neurons that open people up to see different things, or pathways that are built up over time, it’s fascinating, and so much has yet to be discovered. Some people want to explore space. I want to explore the human mind.”
My heart flipped over thinking about his idea. “You think some people have different neurons? Maybe those neurons make them hallucinate.”
“Maybe. There is a myth that humans only use ten percent of their brain, however, we have over one hundred billion neurons. We wouldn’t have them if we didn’t need them. We don’t know what they all do yet or all the pathways that can be routed, but we do know that neural pathways can be rerouted purposely. Maybe some of those things can help us see into places we didn’t know were there and haven’t found a way to measure yet. Other dimensions or ghosts, or even thermal signatures.”
“You’re such a nerd,” Sarah teased him.
His smile was huge. “I’m a bit of a nerd,” he agreed.
“A bit?”
“I’m just saying, depression is often attributed with higher intelligence. Anxiety has direct links to the
over-stimulation of the hypothalamus. I think we don’t have all the details yet. So am I a believer in the paranormal? I don’t know. Maybe.”
“Wow,” I said. Stunned by the whole idea. “I guess I never thought of it that way. Brain function and all.” Though how many times had I been told it was all in my head? Maybe it was, in a different way.
“Anyway,” Sarah said. “That’s why we’re here. Two weeks of exploring the most haunted city in America. Well, Jared’s here for the ghosts, I’m here for the food.”
“You should definitely sign up for one of Micah’s tours then.”
“His Facebook group says he always has new hotspots to give. Some of them tour with him once a month to find out where he’ll take them next.” Jared looked positively giddy with that idea.
“Well then we’d better sign you up,” I said. “Maybe get you some gear like shirts and candles so you’re ready to hunt ghosts?” The last was a bit of teasing but they both agreed that it would be great fun to play paranormal investigators while they were in the city.
Chapter 4
I talked the couple into a handful of T-shirts, a one of a kind vase, which they planned to give as a Christmas gift, and a leather-wrapped glass bead bracelet from the case which had a sticker price I’d been shocked by.
The bracelet had a little card with it talking about the different kinds of stones beaded in the leather and how the weaving, matched with stones, created a balanced design that symbolized strength, protection, and harmony. Sarah tried it on and admired how it fit on her slim wrist. “This is so beautiful.”
“We’ll take it,” Jared told me.
The couple didn’t bat an eye at the nearly $1000 order. I took the time to wrap everything carefully, even finding a box for the vase to help them get it home in one piece.
They signed up for the Saturday night ghost tour. Micah walked in the main door as I was finishing up their registration, his arms full of books, and Sky beside him holding two plates of what looked like mounds of powdered sugar.
“We’re headed there next,” Sarah said.
“Café du Monde,” Micah said. “The beignets are good; coffee is a little on the bitter side. There’s a great praline shop nearby in Jackson Square too. Cattycorner from du Monde. Made by culinary students so they are super inexpensive, but since they are supervised by pros, they always taste amazing.” He set the books down as Sky took the plates of sugar to the backroom.
“We’ll find it,” Jared told him. “I love pralines. Am hoping to bring some home too.”
Micah pulled out a small map of the quarter which I’d noticed most shops had, and drew on it, circling a small shop. “Lots of great artists in Jackson Square. If you walk it earlier in the day, you’ll get free music and lots of locals who set up around the fence. Some of the prints in the shop come from there. And that’s where the artist whose bracelet you bought got her start. They usually show up around eight in the morning and are done by five.”
“We will definitely be checking that out. Thank you,” Sarah said. “We look forward to the tour on Saturday.”
“I’ll see you then,” Micah said. They left examining the map Micah had given them.
I turned the tablet Micah’s way. “I did this right, yeah?”
He examined the order and payment. “Yes. Nice order.”
“Huge order. Are they normally that big?”
“Nah. Only every once in a while. Mardi Gras is great for sales. I’ve always got the storeroom packed full in preparation. Most of it is mass crap that people buy, but collectors come through. We do start picking up this time of year, people buying ahead for Christmas. Halloween is pretty good for sales too. I do nightly tours the week before and after.”
“I heard you do some ghost hunting thing on Halloween,” I said.
Micah shrugged. “I do a drawing every year and pick six people to ghost hunt with me somewhere local. We film a lot of it and post it on YouTube. Brings in a lot of attention for the tours.” Micah sorted the books, stickered them, then some went to the regular shelves and some went to the locked shelves.
He was hard to read. I couldn’t tell if he believed in ghosts or was only using the idea of it as income. I guess it didn’t matter much. Jared’s words still pinged around my head. Maybe I wasn’t crazy. Maybe my brain was wired to see things others weren’t. Wasn’t that the definition of crazy? I sighed.
Sky appeared with a plate, offering me one.
“I’m not sure that’s food,” I told her.
“It’s not,” she assured me. “It’s divine nectar.”
Micah laughed. “Eat them in back. It gets everywhere.”
“Hush. You know you want some.”
I took the plate and headed into the back area, away from everything before carefully picking up one of the dough pillows. Sky watched me as I put it in my mouth like she was waiting for me to faint from delight. It was all right. But I’d had beignets before in France. It was a bit like eating sugar-covered air.
“It’s good,” I assured her, wiping the powdered sugar off my hands. Sweets weren’t really my thing. Though I’d tried red beans and rice thinking it was no big deal only to find I loved the stuff.
“More than good,” Sky said. “Heaven.”
Micah came in behind us and took one too. He pointed to spots of white on my shirt, but was spattered in his own a moment later. He brushed it off and looked at me. “You have powdered sugar on your face.”
“Yeah?” I wiped at my mouth and chin.
“It’s like glitter,” Micah said. “Sticks in the weirdest places.” He reached up and his fingers brushed the top of my lip on the left side. His intense gaze made my pants tighten again.
Sky snorted, a very indelicate sound for such a delicate looking girl. “The mess is part of the fun.” She was also covered in sugar. I watched her devour an entire plate of the donuts in awe.
“Right?” Micah asked. “She eats more than anyone I know and still looks like a stiff wind could blow her over.”
“I was just thinking that.” I shoved the second plate her way.
“You sure?” She asked before reaching for it.
“Yeah. I’d rather have red beans and rice or gumbo any day.”
Sky sighed sweetly and dug in. I checked the mirror in the bathroom before returning to the shop. No sugar on my face, and the semi-erection wasn’t noticeable.
Micah dug behind the counter, pulling stuff out as I cleaned up the shirt wall again. “We should get going,” he said as he glanced at the clock.
“Okay,” I agreed. I wasn’t even sure where the graveyard was.
“I’m taking Alex over to Number One,” Micah told Sky. “You got the shop?” He had his hands full of badges, his phone, and a box of books. I offered to take the box, which he handed over.
“Of course,” she said, obviously emboldened by the sugar rush.
I pulled my phone out of my pocket and sent Lukas a quick text that Micah and I were headed out of the shop and Sky would be closing alone. Maybe he’d get the hint and provide some company to the girl he liked. I added a little note as I thought it was funny, Did you know Sky collects dildos?
My phone pinged back seconds later with a Really? Interesting. I laughed and wondered if my brother would find a way to work that into their next conversation.
There was already a car waiting for us when we stepped back out into the heat. Micah opened the door and slid in. I followed, clutching the box.
“Evening, Micah,” the older black man in the driver’s seat said. He had Uber and Lyft stickers in the window. “Who’s your friend?”
“This is Alex,” Micah said. “He’s helping out at the shop now, and with tours.”
“Yeah?” The man pulled the car away from the curb. “’Bout time. Never liked you out at night alone. Too many crazies in this city. Not all of them living. Won’t find cabs in the Quarter at night,” he told me.
“Why is that?”
“Ghosts don’t pay far
es.”
I laughed, but he appeared to be completely serious.
“I won’t take anything from the Quarter after midnight, myself. You never know what will get in your car that late.” He drove the entire way chattering about the importance of the tours for New Orleans and how Hurricane Katrina had changed the industry, and how the ghosts were a menace to the local cab driver population.
He let us out at a church. I knew it was Catholic by the many stained-glass windows. Inside the doorway, in a small entry before the big open area for masses, was a section of candles, statues of saints, and a display of brochures, including Micah’s.
“The Catholic church is in on ghost tours?” I asked.
“They maintain the graveyard, so access goes through them. I pay them a fee from my registration income and they maintain the area. Technically they don’t believe in ghosts, so the tours are graveyard history tours.” He pointed out the set of brochures that actually talked about the cemetery tours, none of which mentioned ghosts. “The daytime tour is all history. Though I try to mix a few scary stories in with the history. It’s easy since Marie Laveau’s grave is here, and so is her lover’s. He has a more negative history than she does. She’s villainized in most stories, most likely because she was a woman and you know the church and witches. But most of the creepy facts are simply basic science. Like how the summer heat cremates bodies, and each grave has dozens sometimes hundreds of bodies in it. Beneath the crypts are big holes which are filled with only ashes.”
“Gross and a little creepy.”
Micah nodded.
“Marie Laveau,” I said thinking back. “The Voodoo Queen, right?”
“Yes. Not all snakes and dead chickens. A lot of people have misconceptions about Voodoo. But it’s another religion like Islam or Christianity. You’ll find more white people practicing it nowadays than the African American folks it started with. Plenty of people in the Quarter claiming to be Voodoo Queens or what-not to try to drum up business.”
