by Jane Archer
As they went out the door and started for the dance-hall, Wanda said, "Make those men pay for anything they get, honey. It's the only way to survive."
Chapter 10
Wearily Alexandra sat down on the lumpy bed and pulled off her badly worn slippers. She sighed deeply, rubbing her red, swollen feet. Never in her life had it felt so good to sit down. She wondered if her feet would ever be the same again after a night of trying to dance on them while avoiding the clumsy, booted feet of a score of men. What she wouldn't have given for a basin of hot water to soak them in, but she knew that water was almost unheard of in the dance-house—here no one even drank it!
What a night, or rather what a morning. Nothing had shut down until dawn and then most of the men had paid to share a woman's bed and come upstairs. She had been offered money to share her own bed, and it hadn't been easy to say no and not simply be carried off. But the boss had kept an eye on her so she hadn't been molested.
The boss hadn't cared what happened on the dance floor as long as the brawls didn't damage his furniture. In fact, dancing was hardly what anyone did as the night wore on for the women drank more and more of the mind dulling liquor and soon they began discarding their clothing. Alexandra had been horrified when she'd noticed that several of the couples were dancing completely naked. And many of her partners had tried to remove her own clothing. It hadn't been easy to remain sober, clothed and unmolested throughout that endless night. In fact, many of the naked couples had finally had to be thrown out by the bouncers when what they were doing could no longer be considered dancing, or even close to dancing. And she had no doubt that the couples finished their frenzied lust on the street or in an alley. Anything was possible on Gallatin Street, she now knew, and she also knew that she had to get off Gallatin and out of the dance-house during the day when everyone was sleeping off the night.
The boss had decided to take her in as a permanent girl, with a hint that she would be servicing him, too. She had not been forced into his bed yet because there had been so much business the night before. She had to escape while she could before she was dragged down into the mire of this life and could no longer find the strength to escape. For, with dancing at night and being used by men during the day, a woman would soon have no energy or will left to escape. Alexandra could now easily understand why the women that worked here looked so tired and worn out. They were aging before their time at the hands of these insatiable men. She would have to leave, and soon. But she needed rest first.
A bloodcurdling scream brought Alexandra out of her deep sleep; chills ran through her body as she looked quickly around her small, cramped room. There was no one with her. How long had she slept? She was completely disoriented and had no idea what time it was.
Suddenly the quiet was again shattered by hollering, cursing, and fighting in the room next to hers, then out into the hall. She recognized Wanda's deep, resonant voice, and she got up, running over to her door to open it slightly.
Two of the bouncers were dragging a man down the hall as he screamed, "I've been robbed. She took everything I had, the bitch! I demand she give it back! Return my money!"
The man was causing so much noise that one of the bouncers knocked him out with one mighty blow. The man hung limply between the two bouncers as they dragged him down the stairs. Alexandra saw that Wanda was watching her. She winked, then motioned for Alexandra to come to her room. She did, thinking that perhaps Wanda could help her get out of the dance-house and off Gallatin Street. "Sit down, honey," Wanda said, motioning to her rumpled, filthy bed as she tightened the belt around her sheer, ragged dressing gown. It concealed very little of her voluptuous body, but she didn't seem to notice, or care. Alexandra still wore her dance-house dress since she had nothing else.
Alexandra sat down on the bed as there was no where else to go. She watched Wanda as she poured a glass of liquor, then motioned toward Alexandra with her glass. "No thanks."
"This isn't that rot gut stuff they serve those poor bastards downstairs. This is good. Buy it myself."
"No thanks," Alexandra repeated.
Wanda shrugged, then came to sit on the bed beside Alexandra, fluffing the pillows up behind her back and leaning against the wall before she said, "That fool. He ought to know better than to bring that kind of money with him to Gallatin Street. If I hadn't relieved him of the burden, someone else would have and then he might not be so lucky to still be alive. 'Course, now I'll have to share with the bouncers, but I suppose it's worth it. I thought he was out cold. He came to when I was searching his pockets. Damn the luck!"
"You do this to all your customers? I thought they paid you for your—services."
Wanda grinned. "Sure they pay me, but I try to pick the ones with money. I'll take anything a man has on him. We all do. You'll learn, too, if you plan to stay here." She glanced up at Alexandra sharply with those words.
Alexandra was beginning to realize that perhaps
Wanda didn't want her around; did not want the competition. Good. That would suit her plans perfectly. "To tell the truth, Wanda, I just needed a place for the night. Now—"
"You paid for it last night, but you didn't get your money back. You could have had any of the rich ones. How come you didn't take a man?"
Wanda looked genuinely puzzled, but Alexandra didn't want her to know the truth yet so she shrugged her shoulders.
"Come on, honey, I know your game. The boss. Sure, he has an eye for you, but take my word, he's not one to stick with a girl after he's had his fill and that don't take long—don't take long at all. He may set you up in a room here, but believe me you'll pay more trying to please him than if you worked straight like the rest of us. You see, the boss's girl has to service his special customers. You don't want that, honey. I've known too many that didn't live through one of those nights. You wouldn't live long—you're too delicate. Anyone can see that. Now me, it'd take a hell of a lot to kill me, but still I don't cater to the boss's type of affair."
Alexandra watched the woman closely, not quite understanding what she was trying to say about the boss, but Wanda was sincere, she felt sure. "And you'd as soon have me out of here just in case the boss might take to me permanently?" Alexandra asked, hoping that she understood Wanda correctly.
Wanda grinned. "You're sharp, honey. You don't belong on Gallatin Street. You could be a fancy whore for some man. You see, the boss is mine. He can have other women for his affairs, but when it comes to a permanent woman, I don't plan to let nobody take my place. You got that?"
"That's fine, Wanda. Look, I don't want a row with you because I'd come out the loser. But if you want me out of here, you'll have to help me."
Wanda's eyes narrowed. "You'd leave?"
"Sure."
"Good. I can get you out."
"Well, I'll need a little more than that."
Wanda frowned, her face hard and unrelenting.
"Not only do I want out of this house. I want off Gallatin Street."
Wanda nodded again, then said, "I understand. You want to be set up in a parlor-house in the Vieux Carre. Why shouldn't I just bash your head in and drop you in the river, or the gulf either?"
Alexandra's heart thumped hard. Wanda could do exactly what she said and Alexandra had no doubt that she would if it suited her. She would have to be careful. "No reason, Wanda. I could use your help, that's all. I don't demand it."
"You damn right you don't demand it. Nobody does! Well, I kind of took a liking to you. You got guts, and you got brains. I'm not set to see you out of this life. But I don't part with no gold and that's a fact."
"I don't expect that. I thought you might introduce me to someone." Wanda nodded. "That could be done. Soon be late enough. But, mind you, I don't want to see you back on Gallatin Street. I'll kill you if I find you here again."
Alexandra nodded quickly. "I won't be back if we can get this set up."
"It's a deal then."
Wanda thrust forth her large, strong hand and clasped Alexand
ra's firmly, her eyes holding the tired green ones for a moment as if to make Alexandra understand the importance of their bargain. It could not be broken, but that suited Alexandra fine.
"I'll give you a shawl," Wanda said, standing up. "That dress is all right for the dance-house, but we're going to Place d'Armes, Jackson Square, and it won't do there. A shawl will make you acceptable. After all, you're a whore same as any other."
Alexandra knew that if she didn't get off Gallatin Street Wanda's words might soon be true. There was little else for a woman to do here.
Wanda grabbed two shawls from a drawer and threw one of the filthy, ragged garments to Alexandra. She threw it around her shoulders and held it firmly in front to cover her low cut dress.
Wanda went to the door, eased it open, then looked both ways in the hall before motioning for Alexandra to follow. Once out of the room, they walked quickly, turning down several halls before finally coming to the back staircase of the dance-house. Again, Wanda stopped, motioning for Alexandra to remain quiet and where she was, then Wanda continued down the stairs to the bottom. In a moment she was back, motioning for Alexandra to follow her. They crept down the stairs, through the back door, and then were out in the alley, which was littered with garbage and drunks sleeping off the night's liquor. Some of the men had cracked heads, blood congealed on their matted hair. All had their pockets turned out.
Alexandra carefully tried to avoid the bodies as well as the litter as she walked, but it was not easy and she stumbled, almost falling, several times. After they had walked this way silently for perhaps a couple of blocks, Wanda said thoughtfully,
"We'll soon be out of Gallatin. I don't like coming out like this. Ain't safe for me. Cops out here."
They walked only a short distance more before Wanda stopped them abruptly. She jerked her head rapidly to either side, searching the cross street, then, satisfied, looked at Alexandra.
"Look, honey, this is the end of Gallatin Street. Now, you follow my instructions and go to Jackson Square. Go to the Belle Cafe. Order a coffee, or whatever. Wait there until a woman comes for you. She's a real beauty, Madame LeBlanc is. Has a place—real fancy—on Basin Street. I'll send her a message about you. She'll be good to you and you can meet the rich Yankees through her—they've got the money now."
Alexandra nodded, looking anxiously around her. Yes, she could see the difference past this point, but she was amazed that Gallatin was such a short street—last night it had seemed endless. At last she would get off Gallatin!
"Thank you, Wanda," Alexandra said, glancing at the woman who had first fought her, then helped her.
"Here's a few coins, honey. Buy the coffee, something to eat, then wait like I said. She'll come out about dusk, I'd imagine. Now, take care. Don't back talk the cops if they give you trouble. They can be mean except on Gallatin Street— they're afraid to come here. They don't get out alive. No sir," she said, smiling suddenly, and it changed her entire face. Alexandra could see that she had once been a young, pretty girl, but fate had long since changed all that.
"I'll be all right," Alexandra said with more conviction than she felt.
"Sure you will, honey, but remember our bargain. I don't want to see you here ever again."
"You won't," Alexandra promised and after listening closely to the directions Wanda gave her, smiled and walked away, turning her back on Gallatin Street.
Alexandra trudged hurriedly forward on tired, aching feet, determined to make Jackson Square as quickly as possible. At least this area of New Orleans had police and she would feel safer. She had no intention of meeting this Madame LeBlanc, but she could do with some food and perhaps she would see a church in the area.
As Alexandra walked through the Vieux Carre, or French Quarter, she could not help noticing the beautiful houses. There was gorgeous wrought iron everywhere, used as gates, on balconies, set around windows. She could easily see the French influence, although the buildings seemed built to conceal their beauty rather than expose it, suggesting interior patios in all the homes.
There seemed to be an assortment of homes, restaurants, and businesses along the streets so that she could not tell exactly what kind of district it was. There were not many people about and the sun had begun to go down. She simply had to find a church before it was dark.
Following Wanda's instructions exactly, she at last came upon a large square surrounded by various buildings and small outdoor coffee houses. This had to be Jackson Square. She walked to the beautiful center of the square, a part with deep grass, flowers and benches. She sank down on one gratefully. At last, she felt safe. Now, how to go about finding a church? But that was quickly settled for as she looked around, she saw a large, magnificent cathedral.
Delighted, Alexandra got up and started toward it, smoothing her skirts. Then, remembering her clothing, she looked down in dismay. Hunger gnawed at her as she tried to smooth her hair and straighten her clothes. But it did little good. She looked like a streetwalker and she knew it. What if they wouldn't help her in the church, or even let her inside looking as she did? Well, she would eat first and then try to clean her face and clothes. She knew she would be stronger and more sure of herself if her stomach wasn't empty.
Her decision made, Alexandra went into the first outdoor cafe she found. She realized too late that it was the very one Wanda had suggested, the Belle Cafe. Well, she decided rationally, since it was early, she would be gone before this Madame LeBlanc arrived; besides, she was too tired and hungry to go on. She sat down gratefully in a small, wrought iron chair at a tiny round table under the bright awning of the outdoor cafe, then gave her order to a very reluctant and snooty waitress.
Could she look that bad, Alexandra wondered, pushing her long hair back. The only answer could be yes from the way people were staring at her as if she didn't belong and shouldn't be there.
The young waitress quickly brought a steaming cup of coffee and a delicious pastry to the table. Alexandra handed her the money and got back very little in change, not enough to eat again, she quickly realized. Wanda had not been that generous. She sipped the coffee and nibbled at the pastry, wanting to lengthen her pleasure. She hadn't realized how really famished she was, or how completely tired. But sitting there, safe for the moment, all her problems came flooding back and as she completed her meager meal, she leaned her head down tiredly on her crossed arms and closed her eyes.
"Excuse me, mademoiselle. Would you be Lannie? I see the hair and surely there could not be two such colors in all of New Orleans. I am Madame LeBlanc," a strangely accented voice said softly so that only Alexandra could hear.
Alexandra jerked her head up, stumbling to her feet. Madame LeBlanc! She looked wild-eyed into the large black eyes of a beautiful woman, one of the most unusually beautiful women she had ever seen. Madame LeBlanc was petite with a perfect figure, and a mass of luxurious black hair was piled high on her head. But her skin was her most striking feature, for it was a warm, mellow shade that seemed kissed by the sun. And her clothes were expensive, exquisitely tailored, and worn with natural grace and style. Alexandra had never seen a woman like her before.
"May I join you, -mademoiselle?" Madame LeBlanc asked politely.
Alexandra looked hesitantly around, not knowing quite what to do, then said shakily, "Yes, please do."
The woman gracefully sat down, motioning for Alexandra to be reseated. Alexandra did so, feeling too tired to think, or go anywhere else. She had never seen a real madame before and this intriguing woman carried herself like a lady, looked like a lady. Alexandra was relieved to at least see this.
"Chérie, Wanda did not tell me that you would be such a rare beauty. Your hair alone is worth a fortune and I'm sure your body is perfection itself, although I will, of course, want to see more before we agree to anything."
Alexandra looked back at her, stupified.
"Ah, but I rush you. I see you've eaten, but please be my guest to more. I do so hate to eat alone."
Alexandra just
continued to stare with large dilated green eyes, bewildered and confused.
Madame LeBlanc's order was quickly set on their small table and the plate heaped high with pastries was pain to Alexandra until she could put one to her mouth. As she ate, still watching Madame LeBlanc closely, the woman pulled a small container from her reticule and poured a golden liquid into both their cups of coffee.
"I believe you need something stronger than coffee, chérie," she said. "You look exhausted. How did you ever end up on Gallatin Street? It's hardly safe for anyone, especially a young lady like yourself."
The kind words and the coffee laced generously with brandy began to restore Alexandra's spirits as well as strength, and she smiled hesitantly at Madame LeBlanc.
"I do appreciate your coming, Madame, but I fear you have made a trip for nothing."
"Oh?" Madame LeBlanc asked.
"You see, I accidentally walked into Gallatin Street and, well, I'm only too grateful to just be out of that place."
The woman laughed shortly, showing small, perfect white teeth. "No wonder, chérie, that place is hell itself. I often wonder why Wanda insists on staying there, but I think I really know. You are lucky to be alive, ma chère."
"Yes, I realize that now."
"But how could you possibly have wandered there?" she repeated.
"I'm not from New Orleans. I arrived yesterday at sunset and not knowing my way, ended up there."
"A young lady, unescorted? You are obviously not from the South by your accent. I find this odd. If you are not looking for employment in a brothel, what are you doing in New Orleans, and how do you possibly think you can survive?" she asked as if Alexandra might very well be mad.
Alexandra smiled, finishing another pastry. "I came here looking for the relatives of a close friend of mine who died recently. I became lost from my companions."
Madame LeBlanc's perfectly arched brows rose slightly. "I see. That, of course, can happen, and much as I'd love to have you in my house, I will help, if I can, to find your friends. Their name?"
