Life in New Orleans Chapter 8

Life in New Orleans

Deacon and Mayson walked out arm and arm she looked like a child next to the tall dark haired man. They were both all smiles, relishing a few hours of distraction.  They were movie buddies; well Deacon was about the only kind of girlfriend Mayson could handle, a man.  Sure she had some girls she considered sisters but those two were her limit. She had felt a kindred spirit in him from the first time they worked a shift at the bar together and the relationship had grown easily from then. Deacon was binded deeper to her than something that happens in a few months it wasn’t normal but it was right. 

The evening had cleared to a cloudless night, but the stars couldn’t shine through the metro light power.  She missed them. The rain storm that had made them rush inside had passed and cooled the evening down to something almost bearable.

 They were both inspecting the sky just putting one foot in front of the other until Deacon tugged her arm and they veered a little more towards the direction of the car.

“I think we might get an opportunity to get those shots I want.  Should we give it a try?”

Mayson let go of Deacon and swung her red leather pack off her shoulder.  She jammed her arm deep inside the cluttered bag shaking it furiously to locate the jangle of car keys.   Finally she jerked them out with a satisfied grin and stuck the key in the door while checking out the sky once more. 

“For sure let me pop the trunk and you can get your camera set up while I get us to the bridge. If I get nailed by some speeding drunk driver I’m going to get pissed, but hey art is all about taking risks, right?”  She winked at Deacon, absently threw her bag in the backseat and popped the trunk. 

They had chosen the Algiers theater for what Mayson argued was an easier drive than Meterie. It also gave Deacon the opportunity to take a few photos for a painting he had in mind.  She had gotten more confident maneuvering in city traffic and with just a brief look at oncoming traffic she punched the gas getting the little car onto the 10 and made her way towards the Crescent City Bridge.

“There she is, our dirty girl.  It’s not a natural beauty like Mt. McKinley but I love her even more.”  Mayson didn’t allow a lot of emotions to rise lately, easier to keep it all down than manage even the good ones, but seeing the dome and city center lit up just across the river gave her a lump of pride, and joy tried to rise out of the pit. A smile stretched across her face as she put the hazards on and pulled as close to the edge of the bridge as she could. 

“Ok let’s do this, you can stay in here if you’re scared you know? Pop the trunk.”  Deacon put his camera strap around his neck pulling his ponytail of brown hair through the strap with a jerk then stepped out of the car.  The wind slammed the door shut as soon as he let go of it.  Mayson looked through her mirrors at the cars rushing by and finally found an opening in the traffic to squeeze out. She dashed to the other side quickly with a little squeal until she was relatively safe.  Deacon had already set up his tripod and was adjusting lenses.

 “This is going to be great reference, thanks for stopping.” Deacon yelled over the traffic and wind as he leaned over his camera and snapped multiple frames.

“Are you kidding this is great to see the city like this. I’m actually, ‘happy’ to be here.”  Deacon stopped taking photos and looked back at her cocking his head at her strange response.  Mayson leaned on the edge of the bridge and captured the moment. Since she had moved into the city everything from the smells, sounds even the architecture had resonated with her telling her she had come home. For better or worse. The city hugged her in strong arms, and she let her tears soak into mommie dearest bosom. The wind made her long hair whip across her face and she absently took a rubber band off her wrist and knotted it up on top of her head while she admired the dark strong presence of the river that ran beneath them.

“I think I have every possible angle, let’s go drink some wine!”  Deacon carefully wrapped his equipment in clean towels and packed it as gently as a new born baby in the trunk of the car and they waved goodbye to the perfect skyline before taking off for Mayson’s loft.

“We will have to go through the alley again.  The landlord still hasn’t fixed the porch lights so I can see to put the keys in the locks.”  Mayson complained as she went through the small metal street gate and walked into the front yard of her apartment building.  Deacon followed with both arms curled around stuffed brown grocery bags.  Light never blessed the small alley that ran along the side of the house and the moment her sandaled feet slid on the moss covered bricks goose bumps pricked on her bare arms. You could just hear small creatures scurrying deeper into the corners.  The heebie jeebies took over and she fast hopped to the end of the short alley slapping into the back gate.  She had to jump and slid her hand along the top of the wooden slates to find the string that released the inside latch. This was her landlord’s southern solution to a security system.  After several panicked leaps she finally jerked the string and the gate popped open into the back garden. She rushed through like a zombie was just ready to grab her ankle.  Deacon took a more leisurely pace behind her his large heavy black boots making a satisfying crack and squish on a creepy critter as he entered the garden. 

“So much for all gods creatures.” 

Deacon gave his rich relaxed laugh, “Do cockroaches have to count M?” 

“You’ll be eating those words when they take over the world someday Deacon.”  Mayson flipped on the lights and ceiling fan in the loft and left the door open so the cooler evening air could filter through the screen door and freshen the apartment.  Deacon put down his large load on the kitchen table and went about grabbing wine glasses, opener and the white wine out of the bag.  He glided around Mayson in the small space with the ease of someone who visited often.  Deacon gently set down a glass of golden wine in front of Mayson’s cutting board,“here you go Darlin” 

Mayson paused from slicing the variety of cheeses they had bought and grabbed the wine by the stem swirling it around to judge its color and density before taking a small sip and letting it linger in her mouth for moment before swallowing.  “Uhm I like its subtle pear and heavy oak it gives it that taste I think they call buttery.” 

She took another sip, “no major citrus, the wine guy was right I think it will go perfectly with these white cheeses we bought.  I give it a three star, you agree?” 

While Deacon swilled the white around in his mouth Mayson grabbed her whino book and label peeler off the shelf where it sat next to her collection of cookbooks.   The peeler had been a splurge for keeping track of what wines she liked. Growing tired of the randomness she had encountered when she first started a wine drinking pursuit.

“I concur, for a cheaper white it has a rich taste and has the potential to go well with many things. Yes three stars.”  Mayson made a few notes next to the label that she had stuck in the book then placed the book back on the shelf.  They had decided that if they critiqued the wine then wine night had more of a purpose than to just drink large quantities.  Deacon turned up the radio on an old AC/DC tune playing and they both belted out the tune badly making them both break into silly giggles.  Being around Deacon always put her in a better frame of mind.  The stress lines and masks of controlled anger that they had on for work slowly sloughed away and shoulders began to relax movements becoming more liquid.  Mayson’s bare foot slapped on the wooden floor to the beat as they both prepped and piled the variety of sliced fruit, nuts, chocolate and large chunks of warmed baguette onto a large platter. 

“Ok I think we are ready, you get the wine I’ll get the platter.”  The little loft had slowly filled with mismatched furniture that Mayson had either been given or found on the sidewalk waiting to be taken home like a lost puppy.  It was always a smart idea to drive around the Tulane Campus neighborhoods when the year ended.  The rich kids had great stuff that they just didn’t care to take back home with them.  She shuffled with arms loaded with the heavy food platter and placed it on a large tan trunk that honeymooned as a coffee table.  Deacon followed with the several bottles of wine and glasses. They both flopped into the threadbare tan and brown loveseat, Mayson curling her feet underneath her and Deacon lifting his heavy boots onto a lumpy green ottoman with a big sigh. 

“So you seemed to be a little more bummed than usual.  What’s going on with you M?”  No beating around the bush Deacon just point blank asked her.  It didn’t surprise her except she wasn’t sure she could articulate an answer.  She gulped the last of the wine in her glass and used the time it took her to pour some more to think of an answer.  “Do you believe in true love Deacon?” 

He smiled and looked at her with squinted questioning eyes really thinking before answering.  “Sometimes, right now no, but I’ve had my moments of hope I guess.  I love you, but I don’t think that is the kind of love you are talking about.” 

Mayson’s eyes glazed with moisture, it meant so much that he loved her too.  “Yes I suppose what we have is true easy love, but yes I am talking about love that spans the ages, passionate love that stories are written about.  I’ve been pretty consumed by the whole idea really.  Think about it soulmates have been part of our history since the beginning, so that has to have some string of it being true, right?”  She drank more of her wine and popped almonds in her mouth one at a time chewing impatiently.  Deacon just waited for her to go on.  He had the patience of a saint and he reminded her constantly by his actions to not rush through life. She struggled with telling him about the gypsy, but decided that story was to cookoo to share even with him. 

“I have found stories about the ancient Gods & Godesses that played with mortals souls in the heavens.  They would separate souls before allowing them to go to earth.  I have been researching and reading folk tales and I think it has compounded just how very lonely I am.” 

“You have me, you have Henry and Alex. When are you ever really alone?  Hey, I get it being single can suck sometimes. Just get a boyfriend.  I know Smith would love the job.” Deacon jabbed Mayson in jest. 

“Smith is great, but I can’t imagine dating just anyone when he is out there for me. It wouldn’t be fair to anyone.”  Tears reluctantly came out of her eyes and she swiped at them roughly. 

“Every morning I wake up and the ache is there like a constant bruise. You are supposed to wish and search for the right type of guy not pine for the guy.  I know this isn’t normal, but what can I do?”  Deacon scooted closer and pulled her into his shoulder letting her cry out the pain.