queen beds and a balcony view for half the price of your other reservations.” Allen handed the piece of paper to Jackson.
“And what about Goose?”
Allen leaned over and patted the dog on the head. “You can stay too, Goose.” Goose shook upon hearing his name. Since he didn’t have a tail, he very nearly wagged his entire body when he felt excited. He and Jackson started walking for the door, because Jackson wanted to check on Billy.
“If you don’t mind, let me upload these pictures before you go,” Allen said, holding his beard with one hand and the camera with the other. His face had turned pale after looking at the camera. Jackson couldn’t tell if he was upset about the pictures or scared of something he wasn’t mentioning. Allen looked past him distantly before he turned around and rushed back to Neil’s office.
* * * * *
“Boys, that Lena Ward is a mess, I tell ya. I laughed till my sides was sore. Don’t get her going on the constables ’round this city. She and her son had some run-ins the likes of which y’all won’t believe.” Imogene glanced out the window as Jackson turned onto St. Charles Avenue again. She took a picture of the streetcar. “Now, I hope y’all didn’t bring me down here from Alabama expectin’ I wouldn’t want a trolley ride. ’Cause y’all know I’ll go by my lonesome if it comes to it.”
The bell rang on the streetcar as it passed. “Imogene, we’ll ride it as soon as we get a chance. Maybe tomorrow.” Jackson glanced at her in the rearview mirror. Billy looked out the window, but he wasn’t looking at the streetcar. He turned to Jackson and said, “Did you know Glenway’s paying off Neil and Allen’s house too? It’s in his will.”
Jackson slammed on the brakes. “What? How do you know this?” He slid his sunglasses to the end of his nose and glared at Billy. The slight brown circles under Billy’s eyes had gotten darker throughout the day. His eyes drooped, as if they were exhausted from what they’d seen. “Jackson, at least turn off this street first. You’ll get us run over, stopping in the middle of the Garden District.” A car behind them honked its horn. “I told you.”
Jackson hit the accelerator and cut in front of a car in order to take the next street. The driver he slighted gave him a few honks and shouted out the window. Jackson parked beside one of the bright mansions lining St. Charles Avenue in the Garden District. The blue, three-storied house with carved trim and old windows had a tall iron fence surrounding its perfect yard. Imogene took a picture of it before she asked why they’d stopped. “We goin’ inside, boys?”
Billy said, “I overheard Lena telling Mama just a minute ago…when they were in the kitchen.”
Jackson rubbed his face and then slapped the steering wheel. “And how did that point come up, the paying off of Neil and Allen’s house in Glenway’s will?”
“Lena was defending herself from Neil’s accusations in front of Mama, from what I could tell. I listened at the window Lena keeps open for customers, until they caught me and made me come inside.”
“What are y’all saying up there, boys?” Imogene took another picture. “My ears got water in ’em. Y’all speak loud and plain so Maw-Maw can hear.”
“We’re talking about Glenway paying for Neil and Allen’s house in his will,” Jackson said for the third time, as if by repetition he could comprehend it. Imogene took her white-rimmed sunglasses off and stared at Jackson. “How’d you learn that, Jackson Miller?”
“Billy told me.” He looked at Imogene, whose cheeks were red from the heat. She looked worse than Goose, who was more accustomed to sleeping eighteen hours a day than roaming all over a subtropical, exotic city. He lay outstretched on the backseat and stared at Imogene’s hands as she nibbled on a praline.
“You was spyin’ on me, wadn’t you? Speak it true, Billy McGregor. God’s listenin’ atchya.”
“And what about Goose?”
Allen leaned over and patted the dog on the head. “You can stay too, Goose.” Goose shook upon hearing his name. Since he didn’t have a tail, he very nearly wagged his entire body when he felt excited. He and Jackson started walking for the door, because Jackson wanted to check on Billy.
“If you don’t mind, let me upload these pictures before you go,” Allen said, holding his beard with one hand and the camera with the other. His face had turned pale after looking at the camera. Jackson couldn’t tell if he was upset about the pictures or scared of something he wasn’t mentioning. Allen looked past him distantly before he turned around and rushed back to Neil’s office.
* * * * *
“Boys, that Lena Ward is a mess, I tell ya. I laughed till my sides was sore. Don’t get her going on the constables ’round this city. She and her son had some run-ins the likes of which y’all won’t believe.” Imogene glanced out the window as Jackson turned onto St. Charles Avenue again. She took a picture of the streetcar. “Now, I hope y’all didn’t bring me down here from Alabama expectin’ I wouldn’t want a trolley ride. ’Cause y’all know I’ll go by my lonesome if it comes to it.”
The bell rang on the streetcar as it passed. “Imogene, we’ll ride it as soon as we get a chance. Maybe tomorrow.” Jackson glanced at her in the rearview mirror. Billy looked out the window, but he wasn’t looking at the streetcar. He turned to Jackson and said, “Did you know Glenway’s paying off Neil and Allen’s house too? It’s in his will.”
Jackson slammed on the brakes. “What? How do you know this?” He slid his sunglasses to the end of his nose and glared at Billy. The slight brown circles under Billy’s eyes had gotten darker throughout the day. His eyes drooped, as if they were exhausted from what they’d seen. “Jackson, at least turn off this street first. You’ll get us run over, stopping in the middle of the Garden District.” A car behind them honked its horn. “I told you.”
Jackson hit the accelerator and cut in front of a car in order to take the next street. The driver he slighted gave him a few honks and shouted out the window. Jackson parked beside one of the bright mansions lining St. Charles Avenue in the Garden District. The blue, three-storied house with carved trim and old windows had a tall iron fence surrounding its perfect yard. Imogene took a picture of it before she asked why they’d stopped. “We goin’ inside, boys?”
Billy said, “I overheard Lena telling Mama just a minute ago…when they were in the kitchen.”
Jackson rubbed his face and then slapped the steering wheel. “And how did that point come up, the paying off of Neil and Allen’s house in Glenway’s will?”
“Lena was defending herself from Neil’s accusations in front of Mama, from what I could tell. I listened at the window Lena keeps open for customers, until they caught me and made me come inside.”
“What are y’all saying up there, boys?” Imogene took another picture. “My ears got water in ’em. Y’all speak loud and plain so Maw-Maw can hear.”
“We’re talking about Glenway paying for Neil and Allen’s house in his will,” Jackson said for the third time, as if by repetition he could comprehend it. Imogene took her white-rimmed sunglasses off and stared at Jackson. “How’d you learn that, Jackson Miller?”
“Billy told me.” He looked at Imogene, whose cheeks were red from the heat. She looked worse than Goose, who was more accustomed to sleeping eighteen hours a day than roaming all over a subtropical, exotic city. He lay outstretched on the backseat and stared at Imogene’s hands as she nibbled on a praline.
“You was spyin’ on me, wadn’t you? Speak it true, Billy McGregor. God’s listenin’ atchya.”
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