In the Electric Mist With Confederate Dead (Dave Robicheaux 6)

"You're a powerful and wealthy man. Why don't you give it up?"

"Give what up? What the fuck are you talking about?"

"Carrying around all that anger, trying to prove you're big shit, fighting with your old man, whatever it is that drives you."

"Where do you think you get off talking to me like this?"

"Come on, Julie. We grew up together. Save the hand job for somebody else."

"That's right. That's why maybe I overlook things from you that I don't take from nobody else."

"What's to take? Your father used to beat you with a garden hose. I didn't make that up. You burned down his nightclub."

"It's starting to rain. I think it's time for you to go." He picked up another ball and bounced it in his palm.

"I tried, partner."

"Oh, yeah? What's that mean?"

"Nothing."

"No, you mean you came out here and gave me a warning."

"Why do you think every pitch is a slider, Julie?"

He looked away at the outfield, then back at me.

"You've made remarks about my family. I don't like that," he said. "I'm proud to be Italian. I was even proud of my old man. The people who ran this town back then weren't worth the sweat off his balls. In New Iberia we were always 'wops,' 'dagos,' and 'guineas' because you coonasses were too fucking stupid to know what the Roman Empire was. So you get your nose out of the air when you talk about my family, or about my problems, or anything about my life, you understand what I'm saying, Dave?"

"Somebody made you become a dope dealer? That's what you're telling me?"

"I'm telling you to stay the fuck away from me."

"You don't make a convincing victim, Julie. I'll see you around. Tell your man out there not to spit on the ball."

"What?"

"Isn't that your porno star? I'd be careful. I think AIDS is a lot more easily transmitted than people think."

I saw the rain pattering in the dust as I walked away from him toward the bleachers behind first base. Then I heard a ball ring off the aluminum bat and crash through the tree limbs overhead. I turned around in time to see Julie toss another ball into the air and swing again, his legs wide spread, his torso twisting, his wrists snapping as the bat bit into the ball and laced it in a straight white line toward my face.

When I opened my eyes I could see a thick layer of black clouds stretched across the sky from the southern horizon to a silken stretch of blue in the north. The rain had the warm amber color of whiskey, but it made no sound and it struck against my skin as dryly as flower petals in a windstorm.

The general sat on the bottom bench in the bleachers, coatless, the wind flowing through his shirt, a holstered cap-and-ball revolver hanging loosely from his right shoulder. The polished brass letters CSA gleamed softly on the crown of his gray hat. I could smell horses and hear teamsters shouting and wagons creaking in the street. Two enlisted men separated themselves from a group in the oak trees, lifted me to my feet, and sat me down on the wood plank next to the general.

He pointed toward first base with his crutch. My body lay on its side in the dirt, my eyes partially rolled. Cholo and the pornographic actor were running toward home plate from the outfield while Julie was fitting the aluminum bat back in the canvas ball bag. But they were all moving in slow motion, like creatures that were trying to burst free from an invisible gelatinous presence that encased their bodies.

The general took a gold watch as thick as a buttermilk biscuit from his pants pocket, snapped open the cover, glanced at the time, then twisted around in his seat and looked at the soldiers forming into ranks in the street. They were screwing their bayonets on the ends of their rifles, sliding their pouches of paper cartridges and minié" balls to the centers of their belts, tying their haversacks and rolled blankets across their backs so their arms would be unencumbered. I saw a man put rolls of socks inside his coat and over his heart. I saw another man put a Bible in the same place. A boy not over sixteen, his cap crimped tightly on his small head, unfurled the Stars and Bars from its wooden staff and lifted it popping into the wind.

Then in the north, where the sky was still blue and not sealed by storm clouds, I saw bursts of black smoke, like birds with ragged wings, and I heard thunder echoing in the trees and between the wooden buildings across the street.

"What's that?" I asked him.

"You've never heard that sound, the electric snap, before ? "

"They're air bursts, aren't they?"

"It's General Banks's artillery firing from down the Teche. He's targeted the wrong area, though. There's a community of darkies under those shells. Did you see things like that in your war?"