Kiss of Noir Read Free

first! And someone would have beat her ass eventually, you were just at the front of the line. I say you did your people good .”
    I lay back and smiled. “Oh, Hambone, you always know how to talk to your wicked cousin.”
    “So what’s up now, you through?”
    “You know it.”
    “You drunk?”
    “You know it.”
    “That’s my T-Bone. Girl, get your ass down here. Let my wife fatten you up and let me whup your ass in some street ball.”
    “You talk crazy, Ham.”
    “Why? What you got keeping you there?”
    I sludgily processed this. “Uh-huh.”
    “So? Come down to the Crescent City and sponge off me for a while. You know I owe you.”
    “Ellis, I told you then to forget about it and I meant it. You owe me nothing.”
    “C’mon, I could use the company. You could be here eating pea and bone by tomorrow night.”
    “Aw, Ham…”
    Ellis’s voice was clear and firm. “I want you to come.”
    I nodded in the darkness. “Thanks, Hambone, I’ll call from the road.”
    “Great.”
    I hung up and redialed Sloane. “Going to New Orleans to stay with my cousin.” My voice was sloppy.
    Sloane laughed. “Who is this?”
    “Aw, Sloane, I feel so bad. Tell Max—”
    “No, man,” Sloane said roughly. “Tell her yourself.”
    I closed my eyes, my stomach churning. “Right.”
    “So who is this cousin?”
    “Ellis Delaney. Mom’s sister’s son. Runs a pawn shop not far from New Orleans. Gonna take me in.” My voice cracked.
    “Good. You take care, N. Don’t drink it all.”
    “You got it.”
    After I put down the phone, I ran to the bathroom and vomited until my belly was sore. When the heaves subsided at last, I scooted back and leaned against the wall and felt worse. My head was a little clearer but that only let me see that I was a butch who couldn’t hold a job, a woman, or my own liquor. I was nothing. I began coughing. I fumbled for a cigarette and lit it with my thumbnail against a match, taking small comfort in the warm friendliness of fire. My mouth tasted nasty and the smoke helped. I began shaking and leaned over the toilet to vomit and spit again. All the while, between my first two right fingers, the cigarette smoldered steadily. I started sweating and sat back again. Only religious when convenient, I muttered prayers and rested. I drew a cup of water and rinsed my mouth. I took a tentative swallow. I curled my body back into the tiled corner, huddling on the small cushion of rug, and spent the rest of the night dozing, waiting for sobriety to return.
    At dawn, I stretched, still dizzy with poison. I brushed my teeth, squirted drops in my red eyes, showered, and ate my last six eggs. I packed, not really caring what I kept. My future beckoned; I could buy new things. I made the calls that ended my life in Los Angeles. And then I started to drive.

Chapter Five
     
    When I reached New Orleans, I didn’t know whether I was anxious or excited but I knew another taste would help. Following the directions Ellis had given me, I grew more and more antsy and therefore sipped more and more frequently until I didn’t even bother to put the cap back on my bottle of gin. And instead of returning it to my backpack, which rested on the passenger seat, I just let the gin ride, open-mouthed, nestled in my crotch.
    I drank a large swallow as I passed through New Orleans and continued south.
    “A toast to the Big Easy.” I held up the jewel-green bottle to the rearview.
    Suburbs thinned and gave way to wet wilderness. My skin prickled as I spied turtles and large birds sunning themselves on fallen trees half submerged in murky swamps. Trees pressed in on me from both sides and Spanish moss dripped from their branches and swayed in the breeze as if confirming that this place was haunted. The wilderness was alien and spooky. It was as if I were seven years old and passing through a monster’s territory and that monster was holding its breath, about to attack.
    My windshield was already filthy, dotted