Rescued By A Kiss (The New Orleans Go Cup Chronicles Book 1) (10 page)

“I left it downstairs in my locker, after I got dressed in this crazy costume,” I tried and waited to see if that would get me a pass. After a couple of awkward moments neither one spoke so I asked, “Can you give him this message for me?” Not giving either one an opportunity to say no, I continued, “A lady called and said he asked her to check on Isabella. It’s his dog. She said Isabella is all right and will keep the dog for him.”

“And, you are?” asked the one not starting at the wall and writing it all down in his notepad.

“I’m the nurse who worked the emergency room when Mr. Heinkel came in. I took the message from the lady about his dog. She didn’t leave her name. She just said she’s the friend Mr. Heinkel asked to take care of his dog.”

He told me to wait there. He went into the room while the other one stopped looking at the wall and started staring at me. I smiled. I heard him telling Jiff that some guy brought a message for him about Isabella being safe. Great, he thought I was a guy. Stan would be so proud. If this cop knew I was a girl dressed like a guy to look like a duck he might haul me off to the psycho ward.

When he returned, I thanked them and left to go back to the ER. I needed to find Julia and get out of here fast. I rounded a corner out of sight from the two cops and saw a phone at an unattended nurses’ station. The temptation was too great so I dialed Jiff’s room number and he answered. I told him I was the person he asked to help Isabella. I was the one who just sent the message in with the SWAT commando stationed outside his room.

He thanked me. I didn’t want to hang up, and after a long silent moment he asked me, “Are you the girl I kissed?”

Unprepared for the question, I stuttered, “Uh yeah. Yes. Yes, I am.”

“I know your name is Brandy and I know you rescue Schnauzers cuz I’m on a first name basis with Einstein. Look, I’m getting out of here tomorrow around noon. The bullet only grazed my arm. It really hurts but the doctor said I was lucky. They want to keep me tonight for observation.”

“Oh, that’s good. I, I, I,” I couldn’t think of what else to say.

“I know I have asked you a lot already and you don’t even know me, but would you come pick me up tomorrow? I seem to be without transportation other than a wheelchair, and the hospital will only lend me that to the door.”

Silence. More silence. I tried to figure out a way to tell him about the thugs at his apartment, when he said,

“Are you still there?”

“I’m still here. I’d be happy to pick you up. That way I can bring Isabella back to you.” How stupid did that sound. I was not getting into this hospital with his dog.

“Well, good, thanks. I’ll see you tomorrow. My doctor said I could leave anytime after lunch.”

“At one o’clock tomorrow then. I’ll park and come in to get you.”

“You might have to wheel me out. They don’t let anyone walk out. You have to be rolled out in a wheelchair, and then they dump you out of it when you get to the door. Don’t worry, you won’t have to carry me because I can walk.” I pictured him smiling when he said that.

“No problem, I think I can handle a wheelchair. See you tomorrow.” I hung up and boogied off that floor before a real nurse asked for my credentials.

I went back to ER 4 and found Julia alone at the party. She still had on the costume and when I grabbed her arm, she reeled around as if to yell at me but only said, “Oh, it’s you. Every woman in here has asked me to pick her up like King Kong so a friend can take her picture. Not one man has come over to talk to me.”

“I guess the law of the jungle is apes rule.” I said trying to cheer her up.

“I keep pointing to my back like it is the reason I can’t pick them up. Talk about feeling invisible to men! This ape costume neutered me. I feel like one of your rescues. I was afraid to take off the head to get something to eat or drink, because someone might think I’m a pervert. Get me outta here. I’m sweating in this thing like a whore on dollar night,” Julia said.

“That’s such a nice thing to say. I’ll have that visual in my head forever,” and added, “But thank you, I couldn’t have done this alone.”

“I know you couldn’t have and, you are not welcome. You owe me, and I plan to collect, when I’m ready.”

As we exited the ER party, Joe, Dante’s partner walked right past us. He didn’t recognize either of us in the costumes. We walked out with a purpose.

On our way down the ramp at the Emergency Room exit we saw my mother’s station wagon being driven away. We ran to the empty parking space watching the taillights disappear up Napoleon Avenue when Stan jumped out from behind some bushes scaring the hell out of us. Excited and shocked, we all talked at once.

“What are you doing here?” from both Julia and me in a chorus.

“I saw those guys turn on their headlights when you left my house and pull out after you. I thought you could use some backup.”

“Why didn’t you stop them from stealing the car?” I asked.

“Lotta help you are.” Julia added.

“Did you see how huge those guys were?” he asked in self defense. “They got out of a squad car that stopped right up the street. It looks like the police knows them.”

“Where did the cop who dropped them off go?” I asked Stan as a knot formed in my stomach.

“He parked after they got out and walked in the ER entrance right before you two walked out.”

“Oh, God, that’s Joe, Dante’s partner.” I said as the color felt like it left my face. “He knows who they are. Those are the guys that tried to break into Heinkel’s apartment at the Towers.”

“Well, that’s not good.” Stan said. “Dante’s partner might be involved in getting Heinkel shot.”

Stan grabbed my arms as my knees gave out under me. He sat me down on the curb.

“What will I tell Dante? What’s my reason for seeing Joe drop those guys off at Charity. He’s gonna kill me, or those two guys are gonna kill me, or my mother is gonna kill me for letting her car get stolen.” I said.

Stan added, “The real question is what does Joe have to do with this?”

Julia added, “Look how popular you are now with so many people trying to kill you.” If she was trying to make me feel better it didn’t work. She took a step back after I gave her the look I inherited from my mother when she is displeased. When she felt a comfortable distance to blunder on, she added, “I think the brassiere holding up the bumper was like waving a red flag in front of those two neanderthals. They look cornfed, beefy, and dumb as rocks. I’m surprised they had the combined brain power to find the only avocado green station wagon in the city of New Orleans. Look on the bright side, you might not have to explain to your mother why her bumper is now a D cup.”

“Julia, you’re not helping.” The developing situation and my lack of sleep made me crabby. “Stan, I still have the keys.” I pulled out the car keys from Stan’s jeans I was wearing. “How did they get the car started?”

“Hot wired, I’m sure. Guys like that can get in and start a car in seconds. Oh God! Now they know where you live from the registration in the car. We have to call the police to fill out the stolen car report.” Stan was trying to calm me down and take charge but his voice was shaking worse than my knees.

“The police dropped them off at her mother’s car, remember?” Julia answered Stan. “Maybe, you should try getting it back from those two guys instead of calling the police.” Payback for the gorilla outfit was going to be endless.

At least we had left our purses and Julia’s valuables at Stan’s house. We had our IDs, keys and a few dollars and stuffed them in our bras and pockets in case we needed them. They knew where I lived, but I still had the house keys.

“You two girls take the truck. I’ll take the motorcycle home. Meet me at my house. I’ll work on finding the station wagon and getting a report filed.” said Stan.

It was late and a good thing it was a Friday night so I didn’t have to go to work the next day. Julia didn’t have to go back to work until Saturday night. She jumped behind the wheel of the truck, pushed the seat all the way back as far as it would go and wiggled out of the gorilla suit. “I can’t take another second in this thing. Think a Daiquiri will calm our nerves?” Without waiting for an answer she headed to the 24/7 drive thru Daiquiri Shoppe. She drove while I was lost in thought about the station wagon we had for so many years. I remembered the night that my mother took me to my first boy-girl King Cake party in the green machine. The memory, like the damp night air sent a shiver down my back when I thought about how it all went haywire like tonight.

The King Cake Party is the New Orleans introduction to the social scene for young people coming of dating age. Every adolescent in New Orleans waits for the invitation to a Mardi Gras King Cake party, your first boy-girl party where your parents have to decide whether to let you attend. These parties are the prelude to dating.

The King Cake is a large doughnut-shaped coffee cake, sprinkled with purple, green, and gold sugar with a plastic doll hidden inside. At these parties, the cake is sliced, everyone gets a piece and whoever gets the hidden doll in their piece, must give the next party. Parties are expected to happen weekly for the entire Mardi Gras season. This is only about six weeks. This creates great saga and drama in young lives and decidedly separates the popular from the unpopular.

The person who gets the piece that has the hidden doll is the night’s “king” or “queen.” That person with the doll then selects their reigning opposite. This makes for lifelong grudges if someone names a king that her friend likes. It is the first place you dance with boys and learn what morons they can be. These cakes make their debut every year on Twelfth Night, the official start of Mardi Gras, and are consumed in mass quantities until Lent.

So, with great enthusiasm and apprehension at thirteen, I was going to my first King Cake Party. My mother drove me and three of my friends in the family green station wagon. A girl from my class named Joyce had the first kick-off party at her parents’ home.

Tonight, my big debut at a girl-boy party, and I arrived in the family avocado green station wagon with my mother at the wheel. The boys in the hood all referred to it as the leaping lizard.

We found the house on the third pass when my mother slowed down to 50 mph so someone could catch a house number. She decided from inside the car, sitting behind the wheel the house didn’t look like an opium den or brothel. She made a snap decision, slammed on the brakes, screeched to a stop. My friends and I got out of the station wagon. As we disembarked the green machine she said to me, “I will be back at eleven to pick you up. Oh, and Brandy, if you get the doll, swallow it. I’m not having a party with all these kids at our house.” As I slammed the car door, she hit the gas and took the corner on two wheels heading home.

The party was uneventful, meaning, I did not get the piece of cake with the doll in it. So, I didn’t need to try to swallow it or act like I didn’t get it. I really had no idea how to pull that off and the thought of trying scared me to death.

The lights were very dim for dancing, something new to us, and we could barely see a thing. Two new guys we never saw before, walked in and the cute one walked straight over toward me. I was glad the music was so loud because I am sure I gasped as I grabbed Suzanne’s hand. She followed my gaze, and was squeezing my hand in return. He came up and stood next to me smiling.

He put his hand out to take mine to slow dance. His friend asked Suzanne to dance. He said in my ear his name was Rick and we danced almost every song. He talked to me asking my name, school, where I lived, everything. He said he had his driver’s license. We just kept dancing. Others at the party trickled out on the dance floor. Even when the music changed, we kept dancing slow, and talking. I started to wish this party would never end. Finally, I was having fun. He offered to give me a ride home. I thought, Wow, he must be sixteen years old! Then, BAM, it hit me. At eleven 
P.M.
my mother was coming to pick us up. All of us. My mother would never approve of leaving a party, in a car with someone she didn’t know.

I told him I had a ride with my friends. He offered to take my friends home as well. I did the only thing I could do. I lied.

I said I couldn’t get in touch with my ride, and they were just going to pick us up at a designated time. My dreamboat offered to take me home and let the ride take my friends. What planet did he beam down from? My new suitor asked for my phone number, and I gave it to him. Did I stop thinking altogether?

My mother showed up early, waited at the curb impatiently, honking the horn.

I said I had to go. He said he had a great time with me, and that he liked me. He liked me! For the first time in my life, I was
in like
! I felt like a helium balloon that needed to be tethered. I drifted out to the car. I’m sure we looked like little aliens getting into a big green space ship.

I got in the back seat and moved over, but not fast enough. While distracted by being
in like
my mother took off as Suzanne stepped off the ground and before the car door closed. With my mother behind the wheel everything had to happen fast. She had to make good time. It didn’t matter where we were going or when we had to get there. We had to get to wherever we were going, and we could not waste any time doing it. It didn’t matter that it was eleven 
P.M.
on a Friday night with no school the next day. It didn’t matter that we were thirteen years old, in the car with a parent driving us home for the night.

I didn’t see the next thing coming. The cute guy, Rick, didn’t tell me he was going to follow me home.

My mother left the neighborhood on two wheels, sped onto the highway slamming on the brakes at every stop light. She hit the gas and took off when the light changed to green like she got the flag at the Indy 500. She slammed to a stop at a red light when Rick and Eddie pulled up next to us driving his family wood paneled station wagon. I thought we had something in common and took it as a good sign, until . . .

My mother blurts out, “Everyone lock your doors!”

He waved at us, so I waved back. My mother screamed, “What are you doing with your boy-crazy self?”