allowed my eyes to meet hers briefly before they fled
to stare almost blindly at the passing scenery, which
right now was a blur of dark silhouettes and an
occasional lit window of a solitary house.
"Well, honey, New Orleans is a bit bigger than
downtown Houma," she said, laughing. "You got their
phone number at least, don'tcha?"
I turned back and shook my head. Numbness
tingled in my fingertips, perhaps because I had my
fingers locked so tightly together.
Her smile wilted and she narrowed her
turquoise eyes suspiciously as her gaze shifted to my
small bag and then back to me. Then she nodded to
herself and sat forward, convinced she knew it all. "You're runnin' away from home, ain'tcha?" she
asked. I bit down on my lower lip, but I couldn't stop
my eyes from tearing over. I nodded.
"Why?" she asked quickly. "You can tell Annie
Gray, honey. Annie Gray can keep a secret better than
a bank safe."
I swallowed my tears and vanquished my throat
lump so I could tell her about Grandmere Catherine,
her death, Grandpere Jack's moving in and his quickly
arranging for my marriage to Buster. She listened
quietly, her eyes sympathetic until I finished. Then
they blazed furiously.
"That old monster," she said. "He be Papa La
Bas," she muttered.
"Who?"
"The devil himself," she declared. "You got
anything that belongs to him on you?"