Peggy Holloway - Judith McCain 01 - Blood on White Wicker

by Peggy Holloway

  I was supposed to start my new job on the day of Mardi Gras. When the big day came, the girls came up to my room to help me get ready. I was a bundle of nerves.

  Marty had a funny-looking cigarette that she lit up and handed to me.

  “What is it?” I asked.

  She snorted, “Come on, girl, you ain’t that dumb. It will help you relax.”

  I took it and drew the smoke into my lungs. It took my breath away, and my eyes started watering. But after a few hits, I was beginning to feel more relaxed.

  Dave came in just as Rhonda was fastening the unicorn around my neck. I had decided to wear it even though I felt uncomfortable with it, because Jesse was my best friend, and I wanted to make her feel good.

  “You look good enough to eat, girl,” Dave said.

  I was wearing a long baby blue dress that I had bought with my own money. It was real silk, with tiny little pearls sewn all over it. It fit my body tight and had a slit up the front almost up to my crotch. Jesse had done my hair and makeup. She had given me a softer look instead of the fat hair and heavy makeup she had given me my first night in New Orleans.

  “I’ll be downstairs,” Dave said. “Don’t be long.”

  After Dave left the room, Marty said, “You slept with him, didn’t you? Did he give you the Vietnam story and make you feel sorry for him? You know it’s not true, don’t you? He told us all the same story when we first came here, each one of us.”

  Jesse had been applying blush to my cheeks. She threw the brush down on my dresser and rounded on Marty.

  “You leave her alone. You don’t know what you’re talking about. You sound like some jealous whore. What’s the matter with you? Dave would get rid of you if he heard you.”

  Marty left without another word. I could hear her stomping down the stairs and Dave saying, “Now, what’s the matter with you, Marty?” I didn’t hear her response, but I didn’t care what she said.

  “Don’t pay any attention to her, Vicky. She’s just an ungrateful bitch. Just think where we would all be if we hadn’t ended up with Dave. We could have ended up in a real whore house, with a pimp taking all our money. Dave is good to us and generous. I felt lucky he was there when I didn’t have anywhere else to go.”

  I was going to ask her about her past, but then Dave yelled up the stairs, “Hey, what y’all doing up there? Our guests are arriving.”

  I was used to parties at Dave’s. Every night we were at the French Quarter or at a party at home. The dining room was a long room along the right front of the house. It had a long cherry wood table with 12 chairs, a china cabinet and a fireplace that was usually lit. There were usually four or five other guests.

  Delilah, our cook, was very beautiful. She was tall and thin with skin the color of dark wood. Jesse called her Voodoo behind her back. We all laughed at Jesse for calling her this, but she said that Delilah could put a hex on you.

  When we came down, Delilah was setting the table. I asked if I could help, and she said, “No, sugar, come on in the kitchen and visit with me.” As I followed her into the kitchen, I could hear Dave and the others in the living room laughing.

  She went over to the stove and started stirring shrimp, butter and garlic in a frying pan. There was rice cooking and a big pot of some crawfish concoction, probably gumbo. There was a big salad on the kitchen table. I picked up a piece of lettuce out of the bowl and started nibbling on it.

  “Can you see into the future, Delilah?” I asked.

  She glanced at me over her shoulder.

  “Not really,” she said, “ but I can sense things and feel things sometimes, and I have a good feeling about you. I feel that you will one day find your family and the other side of you.”

  “What do you mean the other side of me?”

  She picked up a dish rag and started wiping down the counter. “I don’t know exactly what I mean, to tell you the truth. It’s just something I feel when I look at you. It’s like there’s another side.”

  We could hear Dave letting someone in the front door.

  “Come on in, Mark. Good to see you again,” I heard Dave say.

  Another male voice said, “Hi, Dave. Where is she? Oh, hello, Jesse, how you been, sweetie?” Then it seemed like everyone was talking at once, and I heard them all coming into the dining room. I could hear my heart beating about a hundred miles an hour, and my face felt red hot.

  Dave yelled out, “Come on out here, Vicky. Where are you, girl?”

  I ran out and the first thing I saw was Jesse hanging onto the most beautiful man I have ever seen. He had thick blond hair and eyes the color of emeralds. He was wearing a cream-colored, long-sleeved silk shirt with the sleeves turned up to just below the elbows. His eyelashes and eyebrows were dark brown and thick.

  I hoped this was my date because there was also a greasy-looking man even shorter than Dave. He was almost fat and was bald on the top with just a fringe of hair around the sides of his head. There was another man, not bad looking, with salt and pepper hair and a beard. I hardly saw them, because my eyes were on the blond man.

  “Vicky, this is Fred,” Dave said, indicating the short fat man. “This is Roger,” indicating the bearded man, “and this is Mark, your date.”

  I shook hands with both Fred and Roger, but when I went to shake Mark’s hand, he raised it to his mouth and kissed it.

  “You’re beautiful,” he said.

  I could feel myself blushing.

  He turned to Dave and said, “She’s everything you said and more. How old are you?”

  “I just turned eighteen.”

  “You sure?” he asked.

  I nodded and stood there grinning like a fool.

  Dave cleared his throat, “Jesse, get away from him. He’s Vicky’s.”

  Jesse glared at him but then went around the table and grabbed onto Fred (Yuck). About that time Delilah came out and told us supper was ready.

  Mark pulled out my chair for me, then seated himself. The conversation was light, and there was a lot of laughing. I planned to get drunk, but after one glass of wine, Mark took my glass and put it on the other side of his plate.

  “Don’t want you to be numb, sweetheart,” he said.

  Everyone laughed but me. As we were heading for the living room, I saw Dave pull Marty aside and tell her she had to make my run since I didn’t have time today.

  “Can’t I join the party for a little while first, Dave?”

  He slapped her on the butt. It really scared me because I had never seen him hit anyone before.

  “Git upstairs and put on some jeans and make the delivery, Marty. You’re beginning to be more trouble than you’re worth. I don’t want to hear another word out of you. You git on up there now.”

  I caught Jesse’s eye, and she just shook her head.

  Marty came down later, looking mad. She had changed into a pair of jeans and black leather jacket. She slammed the door on the way out. Dave had been in conversation with Fred, both with bourbon and cigars in their hands. They jumped when the door slammed, then just continued the conversation.

  Jesse was sitting on the arm of Fred’s chair. Rhonda and Roger were standing by the window. He was whispering in her ear, and she was laughing. Mark and I were sitting on the sofa, and he was telling me about living in Houston and working for an oil company. He said he was a geophysicist, explaining that he explored for oil.

  “It sounds very exciting,” I said, “You must really be smart.”

  Rhonda and Jesse motioned for me to follow them. I asked Mark to excuse me, and I followed them.

  Rhonda said, “We need to change into some jeans to go to the parade.”

  I didn’t want to take off my new dress, but I knew she was right. I changed into jeans and a bright green sweatshirt. Rhonda had on a gold sweatshirt, and Jesse had on a purple one.

  “Hey, we’re wearing Mardi Gras colors,” Jesse said.

  When we were coming down the stairs, Marty came in with a man I hadn’t seen before. I ha
d never seen anyone with black hair and blue eyes, but that’s what he had. He was good looking, bordering on pretty. He never seemed to look anyone in the eye but looked past them. Even when he was standing next to Marty and talking to her, he seemed to be looking over her shoulder. His name was Mike, and I didn’t like the way he looked past me with a kind of a smirk.

  Now that Marty was back, Dave said we could leave for the parade. Dave explained to me that it wasn’t the parade because there were parades all over, and there would be until Ash Wednesday. But the one we were going to was on Canal Street, so we were taking the streetcar.

  The parade was wonderful. There were so many beautiful costumes, so many beautiful floats, and everyone was just crazy. People would come up to you and kiss you on the mouth, total strangers. Then there were beads being thrown from the floats. Some were plastic, but some were glass, and they were beautiful.

  They were also throwing what looked like fake coins, but I wasn’t interested in these.

  I kept thinking that people were yelling, “Throw the balloon,” and I told Jesse that I didn’t see any balloons.

  Everyone heard me and they cracked up. “They’re not saying ‘throw balloons.’ They’re saying ‘throw doubloons.’ That’s those coins. They’re collector’s items,” Jesse said.

  After hearing that, I decided to get some of those too, but every time I started trying to pick one up off the ground, someone would slam their foot down of it, so I quit trying. When we got home, Mark handed me a whole handful he had caught.

  When we got back to the house, Dave said, “Well, I’m turning in.”

  The other two couples started up the stairs, and I asked Mark if he wanted coffee. I was glad when he declined because I had never really made coffee. I would have tried. Mark took my hand and asked me where my room was.

  When we got to my room, he shut the door and started walking around the room. He picked up a bottle of Joy perfume, took the top off and smelled it.

  “Dave gave me that,” I said. He put the top back on and turned around with a question in his eyes.

  “When I made my first delivery for him,” I said.

  He smiled his beautiful smile, “Delivery, huh?” I didn’t say anything.

  I was sitting on the bed, and he came over and sat beside me. “How did you get involved with someone like Dave anyway?”

  “Well…”

  “Where did you meet him?”

  “At the bus station.”

  “So when you got off the bus, he was just there waiting for young girls getting off the bus.”

  I became defensive. “He’s been good to me, and I don’t know what I would have done if he hadn’t been there.”

  “You’re a runaway.” It wasn’t a question but a statement. He took my hand and looked into my eyes, “I’ve read about so many girls like you. I think it’s so sad, Vicky.”

  I felt like an idiot, because I burst into tears. I wanted so badly to be adult tonight and make Dave proud, but I felt like a little girl. He held me while I cried on his shoulder. He smelled so good and felt so good, like I thought a daddy would feel. I could never remember having a real daddy, and I felt like I had missed out on so much.

  I cried myself to sleep, and the next thing I knew, he was easing me off his shoulder and laying me on the bed. I stared up at him, and he looked over and saw that I was awake.

  “Vicky, you’re exhausted, and I’m pretty tired myself. Let’s just hold each other tonight. Then tomorrow I have to go back to Houston. I’m going to tell Dave that you’re mine now and that I don’t want any other man near you. I’ll pay him plenty for this arrangement.

  “This is not the life for you, Vicky. I’ll be back in about a month, and I’m going to take you with me then. I would take you now, but I’m going to be traveling back and forth offshore to one of our oil rigs, and I don’t feel comfortable leaving you in my house while I’m gone.”

  I couldn’t believe it, couldn’t believe my luck. I felt so happy. “Oh, thank you,” I said, with tears streaming down my face.

  He smiled his beautiful smile, “You’re welcome. Now let’s get some sleep.”

  ###

  Things went back to the way they were at the beginning. I was still making deliveries and making good money. One day Jesse and I were browsing on Royal Street where there are a lot of antique shops and art galleries. Jesse and I were looking at a painting in the window of one of the galleries that looked like someone had splattered different colors of red paint on the canvas. Jesse was tilting her head from left to right.

  She said, “Looks like someone puked blood all over this canvas.”

  I was laughing so hard that when I first glanced at a painting in the next window, I didn’t at first focus on it. But when I did it sobered me right up.

  I must have gasped, because Jesse turned quickly and looked first at me, then at where I was pointing.

  “Hey, that’s you! Girl, you’re starting to give me the heeby jeebies. First the necklace, and now this. Someone has for sure put the hex on you and I bet I know who, and I bet you know too.”

  While Jesse was going on and on, I was studying the painting. It was me or a dead ringer for me. Not only that, but the girl in the painting was wearing a white robe and was standing with her arms raised over her head. The remarkable thing was that the whole background behind her was an enormous daisy. The painting was signed simply, “Julia.” There was a card stuck in the corner and on it was written, “Self Portrait.”

  Jesse poked me in the ribs and said, “Come on girl, let’s go inside and find out what’s going on.”

  She grabbed my arm and pulled me into the store. I felt like I was sleep walking.

  The gallery was beautiful inside. The carpet was sea foam green and my feet sank right down into it. There were beautiful paintings and sculptures everywhere and soft music coming from some unknown source. A very tiny man with black hair brushed straight back, brown eyes, and wearing a black suit with a crisp white shirt opened at the collar, came rushing over. He acted very excited. His hands were fluttering all over the place.

  When he got to us, he took my hands, “Why Julia, darling, this is a treat. I thought you weren’t coming until the end of the summer. But then you have always been full of surprises, haven’t you? Did you see it there in the window? What do you think? I have tea in the back. I won’t be a minute.”

  After he rushed off Jesse snorted, “Talk about a pansy!” Up until then I was too shocked to speak.

  “What does all this mean, Jesse?” She chewed on her bottom lip like I seen her do when she was trying to figure something out.

  “I think it’s voodoo, me. And I think we need to get the hell out of here.”

  “Come on Jesse, I thought you were braver than this. I need you to help me. okay?”

  “Well,” she relented, “But here, take this and hold it. I think I’ll be all right, me.”

  I looked down and she had given me a rabbit’s foot. I didn’t want to hurt her feelings so I took it.

  We were looking around the gallery when the little man returned with a silver tray and a tea set that It looked oriental. He put it down on a table in the corner and told us to sit.

  He extended his hand to Jesse and said, “I’m Jean.”

  “I’m Jesse.”

  “So, you’re a friend of Julia’s?”

  “No, I ain’t no friend of no Julia’s,” Jesse said.

  Poor Jean, he looked so confused, I felt I needed to speak up. I cleared my throat,

  “Uh my name is Victoria Masters and I don’t know who Julia is. We saw the painting in the window and came in to see what was going on because, as you can see, she looks just like me.”

  Jean put both hands over his heart and said, “It’s remarkable. You look just like her, but now that I hear your voice, you don’t sound like her at all. Where are you from?”

  “Bishop, Georgia.”

  “Of course, the southern drawl. Julia has it some but she sounds s
ort of Texan or maybe like she’s from here. She lives in St Augustine, Florida now with her parents.”

  He dropped four lumps of sugar in his tea and started stirring so fast and hard that I was afraid he was going to break the delicate cup. He just sat there staring off into space and stirring for so long, I thought he had forgotten us. Jesse and I looked at each other and shrugged.

  Finally, he looked at me, looked away and looked back at me again, “Are you adopted?”

  “I was never adopted, but I grew up in foster homes ever since I can remember. Was Julia adopted?”

  “I don’t know. I’ve never had any reason to ask. I would try to call her but her family is in Europe for the summer.”

  It was almost June now. When I thought about it being this late in the year, I felt like crying. Mark still hadn’t come back to get me. He had written several times to let me know he was still tied up at work, something to do with the oil well having troubles and time being a lot of money. Jean gave me his card and asked me to call him towards the end of the summer. I gave him the phone number at Dave’s.

  I left the gallery with so many things going on in my head, a girl who looked just like me, the daisies, the unicorn necklace, and my repeating dreams.

  So far, the detective that Dave had hired had found out that Henrietta Hendrix had moved to New Orleans in 1967. He hadn’t found out where she moved from. I thought this detective wasn’t trying very hard and so Jesse came up with this idea that we would watch the nursing home and see who visited the old lady.

  CHAPTER 6

  The plan was to find out when visiting hours were, try to borrow a car, and sit in the parking lot watching to see who came out. We called and found out when visiting hours were. Trying to borrow a car was a little more difficult. First, we tried Dave.

  “Do either of you even have a driver’s license? And where are you planning to go in my car that you can’t go by bus or street car? Besides, I don’t lend my car to anyone,” Dave said while looking from one of us to the other.