Kiss Tomorrow Goodbye

by Jade, Imari

  Isabella shook their hands.

  “You’ve got to tell me where you got that dress,” Myra Malloy said to her after Isabella sat down. “I’m going to have to have this baby first, and then Ernie better look out.”

  Isabella winked at her and smiled. It made Malcolm’s heart skip a beat again. He signaled the band to play something. “May I have this dance, Isabella?” he asked.

  “How can I refuse?” she asked with a smile.

  * * * *

  Isabella knew what the mayor of New Orleans looked like from the television, but this was the first time she’d seen him in person. She had to admit, Malcolm Boudreaux impressed her with his black tuxedo, royal blue vest and handsome face. He wasn’t bad on the dance floor either.

  Isabella was glad she’d worn flat heels which made her and the mayor about the same height. Her stomach was doing one of those bubbling butterfly things as they danced slowly to the music. The others from the table had joined them so she didn’t feel a bit awkward. She was glad she kept up on the latest dance crazes and wouldn’t look like a complete idiot tonight. The music ended and Malcolm led her back to the table in time for the meal to be served.

  The caterers served a delicious Caesar Salad first, which was her favorite. Accompanying it was thick crusty French bread and butter, followed by Jambalaya, crawfish bisque, blackened red fish…all New Orleans’ staples. Dessert consisted of bread pudding rich in rum sauce, king cake and coffee.

  Isabella knew she shouldn’t have had dessert but what the hell? It wasn’t everyday she got to dine with the mayor.

  * * * *

  Tiffany Jasper and her friend Morris Evans slipped away from the dinner party and decided to take a private tour of Lincoln House before the mayor led his scheduled tour. The building they were in was more than one hundred and fifty years old and considered to be the most haunted and the most frightening location in the French Quarters. Neither of them believed in ghosts and weren’t really interested in the house. They were just looking for a little privacy so they could be alone. The two of them had been in love for nearly four years and were to be married next year on Tiffany’s twenty-first birthday. They came to the party with their parents and slipped away when their folks weren’t looking.

  They found a room on the second floor and walked out onto the balcony to look out at the stars. Tiffany and Morris were holding hands and kissing only a few minutes when Tiffany noticed they weren’t alone. She pointed over to the railing of the balcony about ten feet away.

  Morris turned to see what she was pointing at. Before them sat a naked black man who appeared to be chained to the railing of the balcony.

  “Do you need any help?” Morris asked the man.

  The man shook his head ‘no’ and disappeared before their eyes.

  Tiffany backed up into the room and Morris followed her. She stumbled over something on the floor. Morris caught her before she fell. The room had filled with a foul odor that made them gag.

  “Let’s get out of here,” Tiffany told Morris. Something wet dripped on her shoulder. She ran into the hallway and Morris followed. They stopped in the hall to catch their breaths. “Something dripped on my gown,” she told Morris.

  “It’s a red stain. It looks like blood.”

  Tiffany screamed and ran down the stairs. Morris followed close on her heels.

  * * * *

  No one had to tell Isabella that something was wrong. She sensed it the moment she stepped inside Lincoln House. She knew the legend, yet not too many people believed it. The hysterical young woman named Tiffany crying on her father’s shoulders, told a tale that maybe only she and a few others present believed.

  The mayor left the table to console his guests. Isabella and Ernie slipped away to do a little investigating.

  “You felt it too?” Ernie asked her, as they hurried up to the second floor.

  “As soon as I walked in. You know the tale. This place is full of big bad spirits. Madam Lincoln mistreated her slaves, chained them up, cut them up, and then burned them.”

  “Yes, I know the morbid little tale, Bella. The spirits are still here.”

  “I know,” Isabella said as she entered the room. “I can feel them and their hatred for Madam Lincoln. She was one real mean slave owner.” Isabella stopped talking and stepped further inside the room.

  It was dark except for the moonlight beaming in through the patio glass. “There is something in the room and it smells awful.”

  “I know,” Ernie agreed. “It’s different from all the others. It smells evil.”

  Something dripped on Isabella’s arm. She raised her hand to the moonlight to get a better look. “It’s blood,” she announced.

  Ernie walked over to the wall and turned on the light switch. “Oh, my God!” he said at what he saw.

  * * * *

  Blooded, butchered bodies of animals lay everywhere. Isabella’s stomach turned. “Now how do you suppose that happened?” Something dripped on her again. Isabella looked up. There was a huge dog stuck up on the ceiling. Its abdomen was cut open. Its bowels and innards were shredded and hanging out of its body.

  Ernie looked up. “What the crap is going on here, Bella?”

  “Damn place is haunted, Ernie.”

  He pointed up. “These aren’t ghosts. They’re dead animals.”

  “No one is going to believe this,” Isabella said.

  Someone screamed in agony, followed by a loud commotion downstairs.

  “Something is happening,” Isabella told Ernie.

  They dashed out of the room and down the stairs. Isabella felt the adrenalin building up inside of her. They entered the dining room and froze in the doorway.

  The lights flickered on and off and some of the guests ran out of the hall. The music stopped and everyone’s eyes were focused on the ghosts that materialized on the dance floor.

  The coroner and the chief of police comforted their wives, while the mayor protected a crying Myra.

  Someone screamed again as a naked black man in chains materialized and pointed at Isabella and Ernie.

  Isabella and Ernie walked into the room and stopped near the table where the PAK personnel sat.

  “What are they doing?” Isabella heard Malcolm asked Collena Petre. Collena and Joshua had moved over to help protect Myra.

  “What they do best,” Collena answered.

  “This can’t be happening,” Malcolm said. “There are no such things as ghosts.”

  Something flew past his head, all the doors all around the great hall slammed shut and the lights flickered on and off.

  “Oh no?” Collena said sarcastically to him. “Then how do you explain this?”

  Isabella would have found the little scenario funny if she wasn’t busy trying to figure out what the ghosts wanted. “Why are you here?” she asked the naked man in chains.

  “Because we cannot sleep,” he answered. “Something is keeping us here.”

  Isabella felt what it was and she didn’t like it one bit. She began to chant and walk around the ghosts. “Spirits of long ago, protectors of the dead, hear my prayer. Return these poor lost souls to their graves. Free them from their torment.”

  “No!” someone said in a voice so loud some of the guests yelped in surprise.

  “Who are you?” Isabella asked the spirit. “Why won’t you let them rest?”

  “None of your business and I chose not to,” it replied.

  Blue flashing lights and sirens flared outside.

  “They are no match for me,” the voices said. Blood poured out of the walls and flowed freely onto the floor.

  “Show yourself,” Isabella ordered the voice.

  “No,” it answered. “You are not prepared to see me.”

  Ernie nudged her. “There are other ghosts appearing. They are crying for help.”

  It was always so good to have a psychic as a partner. The doors slammed shut again. Women still cried and men were visibly shaken.

  “What do you want?
” Isabella asked.

  “Your soul, Vanquisher,” it answered.

  Isabella sighed. If she had a dime for every time a demon said that to her—. She started the chant again and this time Ernie joined her. The apparitions on the floor began to float. They rose from the ground and levitated in the air. Isabella raised her hands and blue flames emitted from the finger tips.

  “Return to your eternal beds,” she said. “Rest peacefully.”

  The spirits faded and disappeared.

  “No,” the voice said.

  Isabella said a prayer. “I vanquish you,” she said to the voice. Return to Hell and damnation from whence you came.” She pointed up toward the ceiling. “Go,” she ordered.

  There was a bone-chilling moan, followed by silence. The lights flashed on, filling the hall with brightness.

  Malcolm, accompanied by his bodyguards, rushed over to where Isabella and Ernie stood. The other guests hurried out of the door into the streets, screaming hysterically. Myra, Doctor and Mrs. Randall, Mister Norris, and the Petres gathered around Isabella and Ernie.

  “Is it gone?” Malcolm asked Isabella.

  “For now,” Isabella replied.

  “Meaning?”

  “Meaning I put it to sleep. I don’t advise any of you to be here when it wakes up, because this is going to be one angry, revengeful disembodied voice.”

  A chill ran through the hall and Malcolm rubbed his arms. “Let’s go outside,” he said to the others. He did not have to tell them twice. “Are you in any danger?” he asked Isabella as they stood outside near her car.

  “I don’t know yet,” she answered calmly.

  “It said it wanted your soul.”

  “I’ve been told that numerous times before,” she replied with a laugh.

  “How can you laugh? I just witnessed the most frightening spectacle I’ve ever seen in my life. I wouldn’t have believed it if I hadn’t seen it with my own eyes.”

  “It was real, Malcolm,” Isabella told him. “There are things which go on around this city that would curl your hair.”

  He smiled weakly. “You’re not afraid?” He opened the car door and Isabella climbed in.

  “Of course I’m afraid but that’s when I’m at my best.” She started her car. “Have someone board up the doors and windows to this place tomorrow morning at daylight,” she advised.

  “Will that keep whatever that was in?”

  “No,” she answered honestly. “But it will keep the curious out and safe.”

  Malcolm looked exasperated.

  “We don’t have time to worry about this place right now. We have bigger things brewing in town.” He paused. “Do you think the voice is behind the murders?”

  “No,” Isabella answered. “But I do think both situations are related.”

  “This only happens in movies,” Malcolm muttered.

  “That’s pretend,” Isabella told him. “What you witnessed is the real deal.”

  Malcolm stepped aside and let her drive off.

  “Damn spirits,” Isabella mumbled. “Just when things were getting interesting with the Mayor.”

  Chapter Eleven

  Alesandro walked around his office staring intently out of the window. It was a little past sunset and soon it would be time for him to go downstairs and greet his customers. It was not as if this was something strange or unique for him to do because he did the same thing every evening for the last three years.

  Something wasn’t quite right. He had this eerie feeling…a premonition. There was something different in the air. He guessed maybe it had something to do with Daton being in town. No, he thought. It was something else…something, what was the word? Oh yes, evil.

  The traffic flowed outside on Poydras. People entered the casino and left in an orderly manner.

  Alesandro moved away from the window and walked over to the refrigerator in the room. He opened the door and looked around. There was nothing much to see except a few pints of chilled synthetic blood. He pulled out one and tossed it into the microwave to get the chill off. He always liked his blood body temperature.

  The microwave buzzer sounded and Alesandro removed the warm packet, pierced the bag with a straw, and sucked the thick liquid into his mouth. It went down his throat slowly quenching the bloodlust. He sipped it until all of the blood drained from the packet and warmth went through his body. It made him feel almost alive, if that were possible. He supposed he should be happy but all he felt was gloom and doom.

  Alesandro threw the empty packet into the trash, walked out of the kitchen and headed for the bathroom to brush his teeth and gargle. Minutes later he headed to the casino.

  The slot machines made a beautiful sound as he exited the elevator. Women in low cut, skin-tight black leotards and capes took drink orders, while the change employees pushed their money carts up and down aisles giving change to the lazy people who refused to walk over to the change converting machines and break their bills.

  Roulette wheels turned and players pushed their chips toward the middle of the tables to bet on the chance that maybe they might win. People sometimes won large sums of money from the casino but not as much as the casino took in from the patrons. Since the casino was added into the New Orleans’ Tourist Guide people flocked in from all over the world to play, eat, socialize, and have fun.

  Some of the people were dressed in black Inveigler Casino T-shirts. Alesandro was very proud of the design. A full set of teeth with fangs and blood dripping from the mouth gave the shirt a realistic look. There were also T-shirts for kids, with portraits of cuddly little werewolves, parents bought for them from the casino’s gift shop.

  Lucius stood by one of the bars talking to a few of the guests. He waved to his friend and headed toward him. “Mister and Mrs. Smith, I’d like to introduce you to the owner of the Inveigler Casino, Mister Alesandro Roma.”

  Alesandro shook the couple’s hands. Mrs. Smith was a chubby woman of about sixty who giggled like a school girl when Alesandro kissed her hand and complimented her on her bluish gray hairdo.

  Mister Smith was in town on a business trip. He’d been to New Orleans and the casino before but it was the first time he’d brought his wife. Alesandro and Lucius chatted with the couple for a few minutes and then excused themselves so they could talk.

  “Anything special going on?” Alesandro asked Lucius who signaled for a waitress to bring them a couple of drinks.

  “No,” Lucius replied. “Business is as good as ever. Why?”

  Alesandro shrugged. “I don’t know. Something doesn’t feel right. You know, there is something not quite right in New Orleans.”

  Lucius nodded. “So, I wasn’t imagining things? I sensed something this morning when I arrived. I couldn’t put my finger on it.”

  The two men accepted their drinks when the waitress appeared and both men tipped her handsomely.

  “You know I’m not going to rest until I find out what it is,” Alesandro stated.

  Lucius nodded, knowing he was also naturally curious.

  “Where’s Vinnie? Has he arrived?” Alesandro asked.

  “He came in a few minutes ago and headed to the second floor to find a slot machine.”

  Alesandro pulled out his cell phone and dialed. “Vinnie, this is Alesandro Roma. Can you come down to the first floor by the bar near Canal Street? I need to ask you something.”

  “Will do boss,” Vinnie replied and hung up.

  “He’s on his way,” Alesandro told Lucius.

  “Vinnie appeared a few minutes later, dressed in a navy blue suit with diamond accessories. The man’s shoulders were so broad his suits had to be tailor-made.

  “What’s going on around town?” Alesandro asked him. “I have this feeling that something is off and, by off, I mean evil.”

  Vinnie nodded. “Well, I guess you haven’t heard yet, Mister Roma but there was trouble at Lincoln House last night.”

  “There’s always some sort of trouble in New Orleans,” Lucius said
as he sipped his rum and Coke. “That’s not what Mister Roma is talking about.”

  “I think it is,” Vinnie replied. “The mayor was giving a party there last night and the place was overrun with ghosts of dead slaves. Something kept everyone confined inside the building and wouldn’t let them out even though the police had the place surrounded.”

  “There wasn’t anything about it on the news,” Lucius said.

  Vinnie laughed. “What would they say? Who would believe them?”

  Their banter annoyed Alesandro. “Come on, Vinnie, tell us the rest? How did the mayor get out or did he?” He wasn’t fond of the mayor. He was a nice man but too ivy-leagued.

  “Isabella got them out,” Vinnie answered.

  That caught Alesandro’s attention. “Isabella was there?”

  Vinnie nodded. “As a personal guest of the mayor.”

  This did not sit right with Alesandro. “I did not know she knew him.”

  “She didn’t. She was introduced to him last night. A few of the people from PAK were there, the Petre kids, Ernest Malloy and his wife were also invited, on account of the mayor wanting them to help find out who murdered all those people in Audubon Park.”

  Alesandro sipped his Dom Perignon. The bubbles tickled his nose. “What about the evil?”

  Vinnie continued. “Rumor has it, whatever it was is still moving around in the Lincoln House. Isabella had the place boarded up as soon as everyone got out safely.”

  “How were the victims murdered?” Lucius asked.

  “No people were murdered, only animals. They were hacked to pieces and glued to the ceiling,” Vinnie answered. “Boy I wish I could have been there to see it.”

  Neither Lucius nor Alesandro commented. They were used to Vinnie’s strange ways.

  “Isabella is unhurt?”Alesandro asked.

  Vinnie nodded. “She’s fine. From what I heard she looked extra delicious in a black gown, which had the mayor drooling.”

  Alesandro frowned. “I’ve never seen her in a formal gown.”

  “I wonder if she took off her boots.” Lucius teased.