“Get in, doofus! You trying to get us busted or what? Come on, girl, we don’t have all day!”
The passenger side door opened and Danica stuck her head out and waved me over. “Come on!”
I hopped in next to Danica as Britt peeled away even before I could close the door.
“Parking lot cameras,” Britt muttered as an explanation for why she had floored it. “Don’t worry. We’ll be ditching this ride in a few.”
And so we did, snagging a white Explorer left in the middle of a mall parking lot. Hot-wiring cars was something Britt had learned from her time on the street and she was very good at it. We got in and out of that lot in under five minutes.
“Okay ladies, Oakland airport, here we come.”
I turned to Danica, but before I could ask my question she answered me.
“Britt wrote her cell number on the bills she gave you in big, red letters. I called her and—”
“Told me you’d finally wised up and decided to run. So, here I am.” She cut her eyes over to me. “You look ready to run.” Britt flipped her wallet open and pushed my fake ID out with her thumb.
“Echo Branson, eh, Jane?” Britt grinned as she drove. “Cool name. It suits you.”
I looked over at Britt. The streets had aged her overnight. She was seventeen going on thirty. Her short blond hair was blonder than I remembered, but her eyes were as blue as ever. She was wearing faded jeans with designer holes in the knees and a gray SFSU sweatshirt. I’d never been happier to see anyone than I was her. “Thank you so much, Britt.”
“Hey, we orphan Annies gotta stick together, you know? I’m just glad I could help.”
“You got money?” Danica asked.
I nodded. “A paperless ticket. Melika bought it for me.”
“Who’s that?” Britt asked.
I thought for a minute. “She’s the woman who’s going to save my life.”
Britt smiled. “Then you’re all set to go.”
And so I was.
Less than twenty-four hours later, I stepped off the plane and into a brand-new life of supernaturals.
For a kid who grew up in California, New Orleans might as well have been another country. Everything about it was unlike anything I had ever experienced; the smells, the sounds, the energy, everything was so foreign.
As I made my way through the airport, I found a kid standing at the baggage claim with a sign that read Echo Branson. I nearly walked by, my name not seared into my life yet, but he caught my eye and stopped me in my tracks. I had a headache from the emotions from a plane full of people, so I wasn’t thinking clearly. Sleep was my savior and had been the only thing that kept me from hearing the feelings crashing against my brain.
“Echo?” the boy asked.
He was the blackest boy I had ever seen, and I had seen a lot. His skin was so dark, it had a purple tinge to it. He was wearing black shorts, black Nike high-tops and a red T-shirt that said something about Alligator Adventures. He looked all of twelve.
“Oh. Yes. I’m sorry. That is me.”
He grinned with teeth whiter than white. “I know. Come.”
We got into a silver Towncar waiting for us at the curb. The air was hot and humid and felt like it clung to me.
“I’m Jacob,” the boy said, extending his hand.
I shook it. “Where’s Melika?”
“Oh, she hardly ever comes to town.”
“Town? Where does she live? Big George said she lives in New Orleans.”
Jacob kept grinning. “She does. She lives down in the Bayou.”
“The what?”
Jacob groaned. “Ah, man. You don’t know what the Bayou is?”
“No. Do you know what the Tenderloin is?”
“Uh…no.”
“Then we’re even.”
Jacob sighed and shook his head. “George shoulda warned you. I mean…the Bayou is…well…it’s not like any place on earth. You’ll see.”
We drove in silence through streets lined with homes that rivaled the Victorians in San Francisco. People of every description were everywhere on the streets and many of the areas reminded me of San Francisco, only older. I mean, this place was old. You could smell old heat in the air. It was if I had been transported back in time, and I was mesmerized by the vivid colors of everything from the homes to the clothes people wore. What a charming and wild little place this was. I loved it immediately.
“Pretty cool, eh?”
I nodded, looking out the window. People here were into things like voodoo and palm reading, not to mention food, food, and more food. I’d never seen so many restaurants. There was a restaurant every other building, and each was packed.
“Melika wanted you to see it because she said it would be a long time before you’d see it again. You have a lot of work to do and the city distracts from all that work. In the Bayou, there aren’t nearly as many folks around to bother the process.”
“The process?”
“That’s what we call it.”
“We?”
“You’ll stay in the Bayou with Melika and the rest of us while she teaches you what you need to know.” He shook his head. “Man, Big George musta had to get you outta there fast. Normally people come with a better idea of what we’re about.”
I nodded and leaned back. His somber tone reminded me this wasn’t a vacation. I was here to learn how to live. “How come I don’t feel any emotions from you? Ever since…well, for a while now, I’ve been picking up everything everyone around me is feeling.”
“I’m blocking. It’s a wall I’ve constructed to keep you from reading me. Melika will show you how, too.”
Sighing, I watched the landscape go by. This was my new life, my new beginning, and I was already realizing that I couldn’t have been more out of my element if I’d been on the moon.
“Don’t worry if you’re feeling overwhelmed. We all felt that way when we first got here.”
Watching a new world fly past, I thought about my last couple of days at the hospital. They had been pure torture, and I understood, all too clearly, why that poor drooling girl had cracked. I couldn’t get away from the emotional pounding of anyone who came near me. It was as if every one of them was screaming into my brain at the same time. As a result, I stayed in my room, seeing only Big George, and occasionally Celeste, but even then I could only take her in small doses.
So, here I was, coming to empathic boot camp, where I would, hopefully, learn to block out the noises threatening my sanity. This was serious; not a frivolous moment to be squandered. Yes, New Orleans was a most incredible place, but it was so much more than that to me. It was the keeper of a mysterious woman I knew little about, but who offered to teach me how to live with what had driven any number of people like me mad. And as we left New Orleans proper and started to wind our way to the Bayou, I looked forward to meeting this woman who was going to save my life. But as we floated lazily down the river, further and farther from the city, I was beginning to wonder if this was such a good idea.
An hour later, we pulled up to a tiny cinderblock house precariously perched on a sliver of land overlooking the brackish water. It looked like a shed behind one of the more dilapidated houses in the ghetto.
“She lives here?”
Jacob shook his head. “Nope. Bones lives here. He’s the boatman.”
“Boatman? We need to take a boat?”
This seemed to amuse Jacob. “You really don’t know much, do you? Where have you been? In a cave?”
“Actually, I’ve been in a psych ward,” I replied, leveling my gaze at him. “Sorry I didn’t have time to bone up on my geography.”
“Oh. Gee. I’m sorry.”
“Ya gone stan’ der yakkin’ all day, boy?” a tall, bony man asked. He looked like a skeleton with a black plastic bag pulled over his bones. He spoke with an accent I hadn’t heard before.
“Hold your horses, Bones. She’s one of Melika’s newbies. She’s new to the whole Bayou thing.”
&nb
sp; Bones hobbled over to me and bent down to look in my eyes. His were two pieces of coal. “Ain’t nuddin’ to fear out here less’n you goes inda water. Dun’t go inda water.”
I swallowed loudly. “What’s in the water?”
“Death,” Bones said, shaking his head and pulling up a pants leg. He wore a two-foot long scar from his inner knee to the top of his raggedy boot. “Dey kint have old Bones,” he said, grinning. He had maybe half his teeth. Maybe.
“Stop scaring her, Bones, you old bag. You know Melika doesn’t like it when you scare them.”
“Den don’t tell her, boy.” Bones raised up and sent a warning glare over to Jacob. “You too old to be a tattler, Jacob Marley.”
Jacob Marley? Wasn’t he a character in the Dickens story?
“I won’t tell her, but stop scaring the girl. It’s hard enough.”
“Fine den. Come on, missy. Get inda boat.” He pronounced it boot.
I looked over at “the boat.” It looked like a cartoon boat that had been shot at by Elmer Fudd. “You want me to get in that?”
“It’s the only way,” Jacob said, heading over to the piece of Swiss cheese Bones called a boat.
“Get on in, missy,” Bones said, tossing two oars to Jacob before grabbing a really long pole. “’Gator getter,” he said.
Tentatively, I stepped into the rickety raft, my eyes scanning the water for alligators.
“Dey ain’t none near here,” Bones said, chuckling under his breath. “I sind dem away long time ago. Me and dem…unnerstand what’s what.”
Glad he did because I sure as hell didn’t. “Then what’s the stick for?”
“Um…just what he said. In case a ’gator gets curious, then he just pushes them away.”
I scooted to the very center of the raft. They had no right calling this thing a boat. It was a raft with punctured sides that looked like a family of termites had it for dinner. “With a goddamned stick? Don’t you have a machete or a shotgun or something?”
Bones was chuckling as he pushed away from the shore. “We don’t kill sometin’ dat lets us live on de land. We’re de trespassers here. We leave dem be. It all works out.” Bones pushed off from the dock with his big stick. It was then I noticed this crappy boat actually had a motor. I wondered if it even worked.
“You gotta respect de Bayou,” Bones said softly. The only other sounds I could hear were insect noises and other wild sounds I knew nothing about. Our wildlife in Oakland were gang members howling at the moon during drive-bys.
I was a long way from home.
“Well, Jacob Marley, educate de girl.”
Jacob sighed and nodded. “Bayou comes from the French word meaning small stream and is used when talking about the delta of the Mississippi. It’s not a swamp, though folks call it that.”
I nodded. Swamp, delta, Bayou, it was all the same to me.
“The water’s got creatures in it that’ll kill you; ’gators and snakes mostly. Stay outta the water and you’ll be safe.”
“Um…don’t alligators and snakes come to land?”
“Sure, but not to get you. They come to land for other reasons, but if you go in the water, you’re in their home and could end up their dinner.”
“Respect de Bayou,” Bones said to no one in particular. “And stay outta de water.”
I looked down at the brackish water and cringed. It looked filthy, like a really muddy mud puddle. At least if an alligator was going to get you, you’d never see it coming.
Looking up at the huge trees stationed near the bank, I saw weird mint-green colored string hanging from nearly every branch like a wedding veil. “What’s the green stuff hanging from the trees?”
“Spanish moss. The Cajuns used to use it to stuff their mattresses.” Jacob looked at me and sighed. “Don’t know what a Cajun is, either, I suppose.”
I looked away, suddenly feeling very small…or was it just that the world suddenly got bigger?
“Cajuns were the French speakers who came here from Nova Scotia and preferred the Bayou over the city. Cajun also means a type of cooking. You’ll see that a lot here.”
“Then what’s Creole?” I’d seen plenty of signs in town about authentic Creole cooking.
“Creole means different things to different people. Creoles down here were born in the West Indies or came from French descent. You do know that Louisiana is French, right?”
I knew something was French about it, but not exactly. “Yes, I know.”
“Creole is a language, a way of cooking and a people. Melika is Creole. Her family is from Haiti.” He looked hard at me and shook his head. “It’s an island in the Caribbean. There are tons of definitions for both words. Whatever you do, don’t confuse a Creole with a Cajun. That really pisses ’em off.” Jacob nodded to Bones. “He’s Creole. Call him a Cajun and he’ll dump you in the water.”
Nodding, I ducked my head as we passed under a long strand of Spanish moss. “What are you?”
Bones and Jacob both laughed. “Me? I’m from the Bronx.”
“New York?”
Jacob nodded. “Finally, something you do know. I’ve been here since I was eight. Not sure I want to go back to a city. My home is here, and if what I hear is right, I’ll probably die here.”
I nodded, not understanding what he meant. “And you like it here?” It was beyond me how anyone could like this foreign world with its dinosaurs and deadly snakes.
“Not like. Love. It’s my home. It’s gonna be yours, too. It may take awhile, but you’ll learn to love it, too. You’ll see.”
What I saw were metal shacks I thought were sheds dotting the banks of the river, and it took me awhile to realize they were actually people’s homes. Even in the worst foster home, I lived better than these poor people. “People live there?”
“Yes. I told you. This place is unlike anywhere in the world, but don’t assume everyone out here is poor. As a matter of fact, don’t assume anything until you learn more about this place.”
Bones made a sound like he was sucking his teeth. “De boy got dat wrong. Always assume de ’gator is inna water and hungry.”
I shuddered and changed the subject. “Can you tell me anything about Melika?”
Jacob shook his head. “She’s not like anyone you will ever meet, but that’s all I’m gonna say about her. She hates being discussed. And trust me…she’ll know.”
Nodding once more, I put my hands in my lap just as I heard something kerplunk into the water. I sat up straighter. “What was that?”
“’Gator. Get used to the sound.”
“Is it coming toward us? Can you see it? Is it hungry?” Every stupid nature horror movie I’d ever seen flashed through my head.
“Nope. Relax, missy. Bones ain’t never lost one a Melika’s students, ’specially wid Jacob Marley on board.”
I looked over at Jacob. “He’s kidding.”
I spent the remainder of the time in awe of the human beings living on the Bayou. There were some shacks that made Bones’ house look palatial. Each shack had a short wooden dock and a boat even more rickety than the last. As we floated on, the shacks became fewer and fewer until some actually looked like nothing more than lean-tos and I realized there were no more electrical lines.
“How do they get electricity out here?”
“Dey don’t.”
“No electricity. No plumbing. Nothing like you’re used to,” Jacob said.
Oh, now I knew I was out of my league…maybe even out of my planet.
Unbuttoning my shirt, I fanned myself. The heat, the odd odors, the sounds, all of it made me uncomfortable. “Please tell me you’re just messing with me.”
“Look around you. You see any telephone poles out here? The Bayou is as primitive and as wild as it gets. You don’t come out here for luxury or even rest. Tourists get the nickel ride to see a few ’gators, but the livin’ out here is hard.” Jacob looked hard into my eyes. “You’re here to learn, and you’ll learn from the best. Trust me. You�
�ll be really glad you came.”
I sat in silence. I could handle alligators, poisonous snakes, mosquitoes and crawdads better than I could the thought of turning into that drooling, rocking nightmare of a girl back at the psych ward. My greatest fear of being burned alive had been replaced by the fear of turning into that.
The remainder of the trip was spent in silence, with only the lapping of the water communicating with us. Bones never used the small engine or the oars, preferring the big pole like those guys in Italy. Occasionally, Jacob would row a bit, but not often.
I was missing Danica already. When she asked me when we would see each other again, I honestly didn’t know. My friends were my life and I had left both behind under cover of darkness. I didn’t just leave them behind…I left the old me as well, and I couldn’t think about her going on without me. She swore we would be best friends forever. I had to believe her. She was all I had.
“We’re here,” Jacob announced after what felt like hours.
Looking up, I saw a tiny woman standing on the end of a dock that looked newer than the other docks we had passed. “That’s her?”
Jacob nodded. “She always comes to the boat to greet the newbies. She’ll get a feel for you right away.”
As we approached the dock and the older woman waiting for us, I was mesmerized by her gorgeous flawless caramel-colored skin. She was wearing a black sundress with big black galoshes. In her right hand was a walking stick that had intricate carvings whose detail I couldn’t distinguish from the boat. Though I knew she was Big George’s mama, she didn’t look a day over forty. Her black hair had no gray in it and hung down to her shoulders in a single, thick braid. Even as the boat pulled alongside the dock, I saw eyes like topaz shining and they were locked intently onto mine. Like Jacob, I felt nothing from her and realized this was the first time in days I hadn’t had to deal with others’ emotions.
“Afternoon, Madame,” Bones said when the boat came to rest at her feet.
Melika smiled knowingly as she reached into the front pocket of her dress. She withdrew a little baggie and handed it to Bones. “Try this on it and make sure you heat it up nice and good, you hear?”
I looked at Jacob and started to ask a question, but he shook his head at me.
More Than an Echo (Echo Branson Series) Page 4
