Sugar Doll's Hurricane Blues

by Lauber, Kalua

  “Man I gotta go down to the country to get Big Ma and Sugar Doll. That hurricane is going to hit for sure.” Bertrand said to Kevin who was relaxing on the other bed in the room watching the news on mute.

  “Niggah what are you talking about? Tonight is the night.” Kevin said aggravated.

  “A hurricane coming bro and I can’t just leave them with no help. Our cousins aren’t down there so that leaves me.” Bertrand said getting up and looking for his car keys.”

  “Man, that storm ain’t gonna touch ground for at least two more days. We got time, plus traffic is going to be ridiculous. It’s probably not even going to come close to us. It’s going where it always goes, Greenville, Texas.” Kevin broke into a grin.

  “Oh, so now you a weatherman? Looka here man, I’m going that’s all.” Bertrand headed for the door.

  “At least call before you go, they may have already left and you all set to go down there for nothing.” Kevin admonished.

  “I did call several times but no one answered the one time I got a line. Other times the circuits are busy.” Bertrand said.

  “So you see there, if I know Big Ma like I think I know her they have hauled ass about three days ago and you know it.” Kevin stood up and walked to Bertrand.

  “Hey, doesn’t Sugar Doll have a cell phone? Sometimes they are not affected by busy circuits.” Kevin suggested.

  “Yeah, I have it here, or is this Big Ma’s number?” Bertrand shrugged and dialed the number. Big Ma answered on the second ring.

  “Hey, where are you now?” Big Ma asked thinking that it was Sugar Doll.

  “I’m in Baton Rouge, where are you”? Bertrand asked.

  “Who is this?” Big Ma asked confused.

  “It’s Bertrand. Did you and Sugar Doll get out of the parish?” Bertrand asked as Kevin returned to his comfortable spot on the bed.

  “No, I’m here with Pastor Han on our way to Alexandria but there wasn’t enough room for Sugar Doll. She was waiting for you to come or call and now here you are in Baton Rouge.” Big Ma sighed.

  “I’m going to get her right now.” Bertrand felt his heart tighten in his chest.

  “No you ain’t, I sent the sheriff to go and get her so Lawd knows where she is now. You go and find out what shelter she is in and then take her back to Baton Rouge with you. We can all meet up after the storm.” Big Ma said goodbye wanting to keep the phone open for Sugar Doll’s call. She didn’t know how to work the caller id portion of the phone. It confused her. She looked out the back van window in prayer, “Lawd, Lawd keep my granddaughter safe.”

  The warmth of the police car was a drastic difference from the cold rain droplets which pelted Sugar Doll as the officer let her off in front of Belle Chasse High School. She shivered as she got out of the car. The change in temperature was probably due to the rise in pressure from the storm. There were people sitting in corners of the school gymnasium awaiting buses to evacuate them to safer areas. Sugar Doll sat down in the middle of the gymnasium floor. She gazed mournfully at the basket. This was a far cry from all of those school basketball games they had attended at their rival school.

  “Sugar Doll?” An unmistakable voice rang out as Patrice an old high school buddy ran over to her. “Girl I thought that was you.” Patrice hugged Sugar Doll’s shoulders from behind. Sugar Doll felt so happy to see someone she knew that she cried.

  “Girl, now don’t you cry, me and my sister think that they done forgot about us honey. We are thinking of just driving to the city and going to the Superdome in New Orleans to sit this storm out.” Patrice smiled.

  “I thought the buses were taking everyone to Baton Rouge?” Sugar Doll asked surprised.

  “Yeah, some of them are but they fill up quickly and I don’t think that they are coming back for us anytime soon. You can come with my sister Elise and me if you want to, we got room. We’ll ride this storm out and then go party in the French Quarters girl. You sing there I heard?”

  “Yes I do.” Sugar Doll thought of Remy then and shook her head in agreement. She needed to see him, to hold him, to feel safe. Patrice gave her friend a hand to get up.

  “C’mon girl let’s go before the storm gets worse. We don’t want to weather the storm in Belle Chasse.” The girls walked arm in arm over to a very obese young woman who unfortunately was eating a donut. “Elise, where did you get that donut?” You know you ain’t supposed to be eating no high caloric content.” Patrice scolded.

  “A priest gave it to me. I couldn’t say no.” Elise shrugged.

  “Why not? We ain’t Catholic! If your big ass catch a heart attack and die you’ll be right there at a Baptist church.” Patrice picked up her sister’s bags. Let’s go. You so lucky momma not alive to see you like this. Wipe them crumbs from your face and you’d better not cry.” Patrice hugged what she could of her enormous sister.

  Patrice decided to park her car in the French Quarters because of the traffic and the higher level of ground. They walked the several blocks holding onto each other. Sugar Doll looked around several times hoping to see Remy. A heat of regret rose up in her cheeks. She knew that he was at Mona’s club. She almost wished that she weren’t so stubborn. Patrice was dragging her along by the arm. Sugar Doll felt compelled to keep walking at the fast pace. The rain and the rising water created a sense of urgency. Elise was surprisingly quick given her enormous girth. She moved like a cat under the pressure of the heavy rain. The umbrella they shared was blown forward by a strong gust of wind. The spokes stretched outward. Elise looked up at the umbrella as though it had betrayed her. Finally the Superdome was in sight. On many occasions they had made this same trek but it didn’t take half as long and even the rain was softer, quieter back then. This rain pelted the girls on the face, raining down like tiny pins set to kill them slowly. The girls arrived at the Superdome in pouring rain. The streets were beginning to flood. The water sloshed around their ankles.

  An old man stood in front of one of the glass doors. He stopped them, “The Red Cross is giving out blankets and food. Ya’ll go get ya’ll some before they run out.”

  “Thanks baby.” Elise bustled to the door. Such was the kindness of old men in New Orleans they always wanted to help someone. Sugar Doll wondered if he had a blanket and food. She looked at him over her shoulder. He leaned against the door seeming to wait for others to tell them this news. Sugar Doll thought of her grandfather then, long since dead. He was as light as a white man but he preached in the Baptist church with a deep roll of a voice. She’d been frightened of him. He had been kind to her. So kind that she called him daddy along with her aunts and uncles because her daddy had long since died and she didn’t know any better.

  On the streets during their run there seemed only scattered people walking about only a few or so but as soon as they entered the Superdome the mass of humanity was palpable. It was unusually hot in the dome considering the coldness of the rain. There was no heating system either. It was the many people who had come here smelling of mud, of hair grease, of baby powder who made up the crowds. Sugar Doll looked around at the packed Superdome. She knew that none of her relatives were there. These were the locals. She felt out of place. A country girl in the big city.

  People sat amongst their families, waiting expectantly looking at the top of the dome and the trickle of water that was falling through the cracks. The spirit seemed relaxed. No one really thought that the hurricane would actually hit the city. Everyone talked about how they were going home to cook some red beans or fry some catfish. The spirit was “jovial” the word came to Sugar Doll. Like this was an outing they could talk about the next day. Everyone had the New Orleans spirit, laughing and joking with each other.

  As they climbed the steps of the stadium Patrice saw a family “from down home” and ran off toward them. Sugar Doll didn’t look for Reverend Han or Big Ma because she knew that they were headed up north away from the water and trouble in general. She imagined that she was in the van with them smelling that strong coffee B
ig Ma had brewed for the car and the spearmint gum that inevitably followed.

  The heat of the Superdome rose to greet them the higher they climbed up the steep stairs. Elise tugged at her sleeve. “Sugar Doll girl I’ve been calling you for a minute. C’mon Patrice has gotten us a nice spot.” Sugar Doll turned around and slowly followed her friend. She realized that she didn’t want to be there. She thought of Remy. As she followed Elise she realized that she wanted to return to the French Quarter. It seemed safer there, calmer, more familiar. She didn’t want to remain in this stuffy building.

  She had only been to the Superdome once for the Bayou Classic. The crowd was thick as it was on this day but the air conditioners were on full tilt. As they descended the stairs she looked over and saw a few young boys’ playing cards rather excitedly. “Man you cheat!” One argued but his smile betrayed him.

  “Naw man, c’mon now!” the other young boy exclaimed. Elise stopped to look at the game. “Ya’ll both cheat!” She giggled flirting. The boys looked up playfully. One was a deep brown complexion. He smiled beautifully at Elise.

  “You want to play?” He asked.

  “No I don’t play with strangers.” Elise stopped flattered by the offer.

  “My name’s Tommy, what’s yours and your friend’s?” He cast longing eyes up at Sugar Doll. Elise understood the look and her smile immediately faded.

  “I’m Elise, her name is Sugar Doll.” Her giggling gone she stepped to the side almost pushing Sugar Doll in front of her large body as though she wanted to hide.

  “Well hello Sugar Doll!” Tommy exclaimed in a growling voice. His friend stood up by his side.

  “I’m Bobby Joe” the darker skinned boy stammered. They both were about 15 years old more or less. Little boys in her eyes but then she did look young for twenty-one.

  Sugar Doll smiled at them but turned to Elise, “Listen, I’ve got to go, my mother’s place is in the French Quarters. I think I’ll ride the storm out there.”

  Elise immediately brightened. “Okay” she turned toward the boys to continue their conversation but their smiles had turned into concern.

  “C’mon girl” Tommy said exasperated. “It’s dangerous out there, that storm ain’t no joke.” Bobby Joe chimed in also expressing concern. They looked at each other amazed that they’d spoken in unison. They returned their attention to Sugar Doll not giving in to their usual high fives or joking.

  “If she want to go, let her go.” Elise spoke up defensively.

  “Damn girl, I thought she was your friend! A hurricane ain’t nothing to play with!” Tommy exclaimed.

  Elise cringed, “My name is Elise!” She looked as though she were going to cry. Patrice arrived walking up the stairs. “What’s taking ya’ll so damned long? I’m trying to save us a spot.”

  “Sugar Doll wants to go back to the Quarters,” Elise spat out. Sugar Doll began descending the stairs calmly. Patrice grabbed her arm, “Girl you crazy, you saw the weather out there. It’s probably gotten worse.”

  “I’ll be all right.” Sugar Doll said feeling a bit unsure of her resolve but more determined to go than ever. She needed to see Remy, to hold him. She opened her cell phone and rang him.

  “This is Remy, leave a message dahling.” His heavy drawl crawled through the phone and touched her. She could feel his kiss on her lips. “Remy, I’m at the Superdome; I want to come to Mona’s to ride out the hurricane. Call me when you get this message. Oh and break a leg!” Sugar Doll hung up and tried to smile but she looked up at the ceiling and saw rain dripping through the roof.

  As she continued to descend she felt a warm hand grab her shoulder, “Girl don’t go out there. It could be dangerous too. The city is emptying out and all that’s left is the worst sorts of people who are looking to rob and steal and who knows what all else?”

  Tommy pleaded with Sugar Doll. “If you were my sister I wouldn’t let you go.” Tommy’s eyes were kind.

  She turned full around to see a repentant Elise, Patrice, Tommy and Bobby Joe all looking like a makeshift choir. It made her smile.

  “I’ll be all right; my boyfriend is in the Quarter. He is going to meet me.” She waved goodbye and trotted off leaving the choir of friends staring helplessly after her.

  As she waded through the mass of humanity who were all vying to get a place in the stadium she felt that she had made the right decision. Something wasn’t right. People seemed too desperate and too unprepared. As she stepped under the awning of the dome the force of the rain hit her. It was strong but she was determined. She spotted an old tarp that looked like it had been blown against the building. She grabbed it and wrapped it around her entire body. She took off the belt on her jeans and wrapped it around her waist and felt pleased with her ingenuity. “Mother necessity where would we be?” She sang the tune from an old cartoon. “Well here goes,” she thought as she stepped into the strong wind. The water was up to her knee caps now and she felt afraid but certain that the hurricane had not hit ground yet. She had time, time to see Remy.

  Chapter Eleven

  Bertrand loaded his gun. It felt unusual in his hands. He had only purchased it for protection against robbers. “Now here I am the robber,” he thought to himself. He looked down at the ski mask and thought how stupid it was to go shopping for an item like this in the hottest city on the planet. He had suggested simple pantyhose but Kevin had reasoned with him that these were easy to see through. What would his father the deacon think? “Son, thieving and robbing and lying and cheating all in the same category with God. Don’t even think about killing. Never point a gun at a man if you don’t intend to use it because if you miss or threaten he’s coming for you.” That’s all his father had told him about a life of crime. Up till now he’d avoided it. Gambling wasn’t crime as far as he was concerned but then the debt kept growing. He was a big man and hiding out wasn’t an option. “I just don’t want to lose my bar. I’m sorry daddy.” Bertrand whispered to himself like a prayer. He loaded the gun and walked to the garage. He rationalized that his father didn’t agree with his lifestyle anyway. He wanted him to work in a church. “A fool’s game,” Bertrand sighed aloud. A cold trickle of sweat rolled down his back. A scripture came to him, “The fool says in his mind there is no God.” He would have considered it an omen but decided that it was just his Baptist mind going wild with thoughts of sin.

  Kevin waited in the car. The fresh smell of French fries wafted up from the window. Kevin sat there munching. He handed up a bag of Burger King to Bertrand. “Eat like a king brother because tonight we are going to be rich.” Bertrand grabbed the bag and then opened the door. He slid in easily onto the soft leather interior of his Lincoln Continental.

  “Hey man, you ready for tonight?” Kevin asked between bites. Bertrand looked down at the bag. He didn’t feel like a King. “Come on man, eat. We need to go over the plan again. I know your big ass is hungry.” Bertrand agreed and opened the bag and looked disappointedly at Kevin.

  “What’s wrong? A Whopper, right, extra cheese?” Kevin asked.

  “I’m a big man, I meant two of those.” Bertrand said.

  “When you mean two, then you say two.” Kevin opened his whooper and began casually eating it.

  “All right man, so what’s the plan?” Bertrand asked munching his fries.

  “The plan is still the same. You go into that back hallway. I’ll follow you then we walk in and bust up the game. We hold Marsalas hostage so to speak and his boys. Then we get the money.” Kevin and Bertrand clinked fists like a toast.

  “It’s so simple man. No one would ever think to rob the robber.” Bertrand chuckled.

  “Yeah like Robin Hood, ‘cept we is keeping the money.” Kevin laughed.

  Bertrand thought about tonight and he felt a moment of dread. He began to sweat again. “Kevin, what if we get caught?” he asked.

  “We ain’t gonna get caught. We are going to catch them off guard. As far as they know with this hurricane nobody is even thinking about them.”


  Bertrand smiled slightly reassured as he heard the pounding rain outside. He felt scared but all of his thoughts of God and goodness disappeared like the wind.

  Sugar Doll began to see the wisdom of her friend’s words. As she struggled against the wind it was a constant battle to make it across the street. She saw people running haphazardly to and fro. She alone looked like she had a direction, a focus. She thought of a song Remy sang to her one night. She imagined his face and was even more determined to press onward. The pelts of the rain fell steadily like bullets. They showered down on her. As she passed the Riverwalk she looked between the buildings and saw the waves crashing up against the banks. It was scary to see it. The rain felt cold and she shivered and began to run in earnest. There were smatterings of people headed in the opposite direction but no signs telling her that she was going the wrong way. She approached St. Peter’s street. As she looked down the long Tchopotulis Avenue she saw hundreds of cars bumper to bumper, headed for the Mississippi River Bridge which was right up over her head. She looked up into the big droplets of rain and saw the cars cramming so close to each other that they looked like one giant organism.

  This rush to leave was commonplace in lower Plaquemines Parish where just the slightest tropical storm could send hordes of trailer park dwellers packing due to intense flooding. This, however, never occurred in New Orleans Proper which was so famous that even God had stopped his mighty winds and flooding for 40 years. The city was where people usually ran to have hurricane parties and such.

  A sign flew past Sugar Doll. Its metal yellow corners hit the side of a brick building and took a chunk off with it. “That could have been my face.” Sugar Doll thought absently touching her face to make sure that it was still there. For the first time Sugar Doll felt real fear. She ran faster, picking up the pace. She heated up under the makeshift tarp she had wrapped around her waist. The French Quarters lay ahead as she turned past St. Louis cathedral and shot down Royal. She saw two news trucks. The reporters were there in front of their cameras. They stood almost side by side even though the trucks identified two separate news agencies.