Second Time Through - Book IIChapter 25: Ayida & Atabei free porn video
Roger smiled. "It's been a long time since I traveled by train. In fact, I don't think I've been on one since before Jessica was born," he replied.
"Well, we have twelve staterooms, and a small conference room onboard. Why don't you and Jessica and Steve join us for a couple of days. I'm sure we'd have plenty of time to discuss the details while we're traveling. And when you're ready, I'll fly you back to Knoxville from wherever we are," I offered. "Our next stop is Houston."
"Twelve?" Steve repeated in amazement.
"But Daddy, I didn't bring anything to stay the night!" Jessica said.
"I'm sure there's someplace in a city the size of New Orleans where we can pick up whatever you need," Roger told her, firmly. "Remember, we have a deadline, and our ability to meet that deadline now falls squarely on you and Steve, so you need this time with Michael."
"Cool!" said Steve. "I've never ridden on a train before."
I scanned Roger and saw he was actually excited about traveling by train once again. He was also concerned about his daughter. He had never seen her act like this before, and he was wondering about her resistance to this potentially lucrative client.
"Great! I think you'll enjoy traveling with us," I told them. "The girls and I are going to walk down to the French Market. You're welcome to join us, or we can meet you at the train station in a couple of hours."
Roger and his crew decided to go find what they'd need to extend their stay.
"We'll meet you at the train around five, then," I told them. "Will that give you enough time to round up what you need?"
"I think it should be more than sufficient," Roger replied.
As they headed for the door, I informed them that we planned to have a casual dinner at another of my favorite New Orleans restaurants this evening, before heading out to Texas later tonight.
After they left the dining room, we all gathered around Catherine and Grace to tell them goodbye, since they were headed back to New York. Grace hugged me gently as she whispered, "Thank you for understanding, Michael."
"You're welcome, Sis," I told her as brotherly as I could.
I kissed Catherine passionately, telling her I would miss her, as we headed for the exit.
"I'll miss you too," she said. "Would you do your thing and contact me later? Maybe when you wake up in the morning? I need to discuss some things with you."
"Gladly," I replied. "Are you okay?"
"I'm fine, Michael. I think I am the happiest I've been in many years. I just wanted to go over some company details," Catherine replied happily. "And I think your new home sounds very interesting."
"Thanks, I think," I said as I laughed while holding the door for them. "I just need to figure out where we are all going to live until it's ready."
I immediately wished I had worn shorts. New Orleans is always hot in the summer, but its climate is also one of the most humid in the country. So when I opened the door, it was like stepping into a sauna on this hot and humid June afternoon.
"That reminds me ... that's one of the items I was going to discuss with you. I talked to a man named Jim Clayton last night. He owns a mobile home manufacturing company in Tennessee. He suggested you get three mobile homes set in a 'u' shape around a covered patio. So I ordered you three," Catherine told me. "Is that okay with you?"
"That's great!" I exclaimed. "Thank you for taking care of us."
"We'll see how you feel after you see them," Catherine said. "But we've got to get going, Michael. I'll talk to you tomorrow," she said as she kissed my cheek and slid into the back of the cab with Grace. Beth followed her in and they started for the airport.
"Are you all up for some shopping?" I asked the girls.
"Are you kidding?" Nicky asked, laughing. "I was born to shop!"
They all began to chatter about the shopping, the French Quarter, the weather, and everything else. I walked with them, basking in their happiness, as we made our way the couple of blocks to the French Market.
"Michael?" Adriana thought as we walked through the French Quarter.
"Yes?" I replied.
"I just wanted to tell you how much fun I'm having," she thought. "And to ask you if we can stop by a bank. I'm afraid I didn't bring much cash, so I'd like to cash a check. If it's not too much trouble."
"How much did you plan on cashing a check for?" I asked.
"Oh ... fifty dollars, I guess," she replied.
"Did we ever discuss how much I'm paying you now?" I asked as I reached in my pocket and pulled out my grandfather's money clip.
"Not really. You told Catherine it would be the same as Vickie, but I haven't had the chance to ask her what you're paying us yet," she told me.
"Here. We can settle up later," I told her as I handed her two hundred dollars.
"I can't take this. It's more than I have in my account," she thought to me.
"Vickie, do you remember what we agreed to as far as your pay goes?" I thought my question to her. I kept Adriana connected so she could hear her reply. "I told Adriana I would pay her the same rate, but I don't remember the details."
"Of course I remember," Vickie replied. "Does she get the same fringes too?"
"Stop that!" I thought to her with a laugh. "I don't think she would want THOSE fringes!"
"Too bad for her, then!" Vickie laughed gaily. "In that case, it's just the thirty a year plus expenses and insurance. And by-the-way, am I off the clock tonight?"
"Yep! But Mikeya already has dibs on tonight," I replied.
She stopped in the middle of the sidewalk and turned to look at me. Placing her hands on her hips, and with an exaggerated pout on her face, she cried, "That's not fair!"
"Take it up with Mikeya," I told her. "Besides, you haven't done anything that I need to punish you for lately," I added in a thought to her.
Continuing our stroll in the direction of the French Market, Vickie looked around and spied Nicky as she walked in front of her, between Amy and Penny. With a giggle, she rared back and popped Nicky's ass with her open hand.
Smack!
"Ow-w!" Nicky cried, not expecting the playful slap. She turned to see Vickie looking at her sheepishly.
"I didn't know what else to do. He said I hadn't done anything bad lately, so he had no reason to punish me!" Vickie explained to Nicky dramatically.
"Well, next time, pick on somebody else! I don't like being a part of your sex life. At least not like that!" she said with a giggle.
"What did she mean 'thirty a year'? You can't possibly mean a salary? Of thirty thousand dollars? A year?" Adriana asked in confusion. "That's ... that's ... more than mother makes."
"That's exactly what he means," Vickie thought to her. "Plus insurance and expenses, which includes our room and food while we are traveling with him."
"Besides, your mother is not going to be my assistant," I pointed out.
"But ... but can you afford that? Both of us, I mean?" she asked.
"Considering he made the company three hundred thousand dollars last week, even before he became the president of the company. And considering he's about to set aside a half billion dollars in a trust, to fund a foundation to give it away. And considering that he just committed to a million dollar home for all of us, I say that he can," Vickie told her.
"Oh!" Adriana said. "I hadn't thought of it like that."
"Look, you just joined us two days ago, so you haven't had the time to really think it all through, yet," Vickie pointed out to her. "But you'll figure it out. And it won't take you long!"
I hugged Adriana to my side as we walked. "Vickie's right. You'll get the hang of it soon enough. In the meantime, take the cash and get whatever you want," I told her.
"Okay," she said hesitantly, as she took the folded bills from my hand. Depositing them in her purse she thought, "Did she mean what I think she meant? About the fringe benefits?"
"Why don't you ask her what she meant?" I suggested.
Vickie linked her arm through Adriana's, pulling Adriana to her side as we walked. "Come on partner, you and me need to talk, especially if we're going to be working together," she thought to Adriana.
I didn't realize it at the time, but looking back, I know now that I had just witnessed the start of a life-long friendship.
The French Market is a six block long, open air market that encompasses shops, and stalls and restaurants, along with a flea market and an open farmers market. Established one hundred and eighty years ago, the market was originally an Indian trading post.
The girls were excited and wanted to stop at every stall. One of the first stalls we passed, was selling all sorts of electronics, from transistor radios to cameras. Ileana saw a Polaroid Swinger for the first time as the young vendor hawked his wares. He quickly took our picture and handed it to the girls so they could watch it develop. Ileana became excited and just had to have one.
"Ileana, forgive me, but it never occurred to me to ask before. Do you have any money with you?" I thought to her.
"Oh," she said, becoming sad. "Mother gave both of us some money before she left, but I left mine in my room. I'm not used to carrying money."
"Don't worry, I have more than enough for whatever you want," I told her. "Do you mind if I ask how much she gave you?"
"Of course not. You're my husband, so whatever I have is yours," she said happily. "She gave both of us two hundred American dollars. She didn't know if that would be enough, but she said she would bring more when she returns."
"Here," I thought as I slid two folded hundred dollar bills into her hand.
Ileana looked up at me and smiled. I sensed her saying, "Thank you, my husband," as she handed the clerk the money.
"That's too much, Little Lady. They're only thirty," he said.
"Oh. Do I have enough for two?" she asked.
"More than enough. Why don't you get some extra film, too?" the young man suggested.
So she bought one for Mikeya as well. Along with several packs of film. Ileana was walking away, excitedly discussing her magic camera with the other girls, so I held out my hand for her change. I reminded myself to keep a sharp eye on her whenever she had to handle money. I figured it was because she had not handled cash very often on Tapato. However, I also knew it wouldn't take long for her to get the hang of it. Mainly because she was a female, but my sister is a master at shopping, so Ileana would be learning from the best!
"You are so sweet! Yes, big brother, I saw, and I'll coach her a little when it's not so hectic," Nicky thought to me.
I winked at her as I smiled.
" ... you just have to remember to leave them on the train when we get to the ranch," Vickie was telling Ileana as they headed to the next stall.
"Oh yeah. That's right. They wouldn't like us bringing them there!" Ileana responded, laughing.
Of course the warning bells flashed in my mind. I saw Adriana had heard the reference to the ranch, filing a note in her incredible memory to ask Vickie about it later. Amy, I was surprised to discover, already knew about the ranch. It seems my sister had already filled her in. Penny actually shuddered, and I could sense her dread. I also was surprised to see it was not the idea of going without clothes that bothered her, but the thought of going unarmed.
Another stall had nothing but cigars and Zippo lighters. While the lighter's insides were identical, no two exterior cases matched. They were each hand painted with different scenes, sayings, or advertising logos. The attendant even offered to custom paint one for us, but we passed as none of us had a need for a lighter.
We stopped by Momma LaBelle's, but I couldn't get anyone to try the Cajun crawdads. And at Bourques, they had their famous New Orleans boudin (a Cajun sausage). They didn't want to try that either. I did get them to sample the Jalapeno Sausage and Cheese bread, though. It was as good as I remembered.
At the Original Cafe Du Monde Coffee Stand, which was established right here in the market in 1862, we sampled a chicory coffee with a beignet. A sign said the coffee shop was open 24 hours a day, seven days a week, closing only for Christmas Day or if a hurricane should happen to wander too close to New Orleans. I wondered to myself if it had survived Hurricane Katrina, thirty-four years from now. (Author's note: It did!)
The coffee is served black or Au Lait. I bought a cup of the Au Lait, because I thought the black coffee might be a bit too strong for the girls. Au Lait means that it is mixed half and half with hot milk.
"This doesn't taste like the coffee back home," Amy said.
"That's because it's made with chicory," I explained.
"What's chicory?" Ileana asked.
"It's the root of the endive plant. Endive is a type of lettuce," Vickie supplied.
"That's right," I told everyone. I knew that Vickie was brilliant, and glad to see she wasn't trying to hide it anymore.
"The Endive root is roasted and ground, then added to the coffee. It's supposed to soften the bitter edge of the coffee, but I think it adds more of a chocolaty flavor to the Cafe Au Lait," Vickie continued.
The beignet (pronounced 'ben – yea') was a square French-style doughnut, lavishly covered with powdered sugar. It was delicious, but after our huge brunch, the six of us together could barely finish the one I bought.
We made a pit stop at the public restrooms about midway through the market. We had seen most of market, except for the farmers market portion, so I was trying to decide if there was enough time to grab a quick nap, if we headed back now.
Suddenly, I felt Vickie, and she was upset.
"Michael, we have a problem in here," she thought.
"I'm not sure I'm the one you need to help you," I told her, "considering where you are. Can't you just get one of the other girls to..."
"This is serious, Michael!" she snapped.
I immediately stopped kidding around and scanned all of them. It didn't take me long to see what their problem was.
In one of the stalls, sat a young girl. When Vickie had first scanned her, she found the girl was asleep, and saw that her sister had left her there while she went to work at one of the nearby stalls. That was all she got before the girl awoke, and suddenly, Vickie couldn't read her anymore. Outside of myself, Vickie had never run into someone she could not read. The idea disturbed her. But the plight of the young girl bothered her more.
"Can you bring her out?" I asked Vickie.
"She says she can't. She says her sister will be really mad if she leaves," Nicky said.
"You mean she stays in that stall all day?" Penny asked alarmed.
"Should we call the police?" Adriana thought to us.
"No! Please don't call the police!" she suddenly cried. "Please don't call the police! They'll take me away and do bad things to my sister!"
Her pleas became washed out as she cried, until her sobs were wracking her small frame.
"Please ... don't..." became her sobbing mantra, as she repeated it over and over.
"This is terrible, Michael. Do something!" Ileana thought to me.
I looked around me. The French Market was not very crowded. I guessed that would probably be fairly common for a mid-week afternoon, in the hottest part of the day. So I quickly ducked through the Ladies room doorway.
The first thought that crossed my mind was that the Ladies room sure was cleaner than the Men's. I know, weird, huh? But it was true. I mean it wasn't great, but it was definitely cleaner than the Men's room.
My attention was quickly drawn to the knot of girls standing around the open door to one of the four stalls.
Nicky and Amy were trying to reassure its occupant that we were not going to call the police. But she continued to cry, as she sat on the floor of the stall, rocking her body back and forth.
They parted and I came to stand in front of the open stall, as I got my first look at the young girl.
She appeared to be about thirteen or fourteen years old. The first thing that struck me was how thin she was. I didn't know if it was typical of her age, or if she was suffering from malnourishment. I suspected it was a little of both. The second thing I noticed was that despite her thin stature, she was absolutely beautiful! Her skin was the color of the Au Lait coffee we had just shared. Her hair was dark brown, and curled just below her chin, framing a face that I'm sure would be a photographer's dream.
I stood there looking at her, waiting. Finally, her cries subsided to sniffles. Vickie reached into an adjacent stall, ripping off some toilet paper, then kneeling in front of her, she offered it to the young girl with a kind smile.
I began to scan her, and found my efforts blocked. Redoubling my efforts and silently asking the girls to support me with their love, I tried again as I felt my powers grow.
Her name was Atabei, but everyone called her 'Abby'. As I continued to probe, I found the effort draining, but I was able to discover that her sister's name was Ayida, and they were recent orphans. I also discovered that Ayida worked at one of the many stalls in the French Market, braiding tourist's hair for a few dollars, before I finally had to give up. I think my efforts of yesterday, and the small amount of sleep I had gotten, had combined to make me tired.
I opened my eyes as I sagged against the frame of the stall door.
Abby looked at me in wonder. Somehow, I knew that she knew what I had done.
"Don't worry, Abby," I told her. "Vickie and Ileana and Amy and Nicky are going to stay with you while Penny, Adriana, and I go find Ayida. Then we'll figure out how we can help you both. Okay?"
She continued to stare at me, before finally nodding her head.
"Who ... who are you, mister?" she asked very hesitantly.
"A friend, Abby. A friend," I told her softly before turning to leave.
She just continued to stare, but I could sense relief in her, not clearly but it was there.
"We'll be back as soon as we find her," I told them as Adriana, Penny, and I left.
We headed back through the market, searching for Ayida. We hadn't walked very far, when we came to a stall where four or five women of various ages were waiting for customers to braid their hair.
"Do you have someone named Ayida who works here?" I politely asked the old woman I figured to be in charge.
"Why you wanna know, white boy?" she said harshly. "Just you run along now and leaves decent folk to theys own, you hear?"
I scanned her and realized that she was just trying to protect her people from the unknown threat I posed. I also learned that Ayida was at another hair braiding stall that was owned by the same man who owned this one. The old woman, Miz Washington by name, planned to send her young son to warn them as soon as I turned my back.
"Miz Washington," I said, "I can only give you my word that I mean her no harm. So instead of sending him to warn her, why don't you let your son lead me to her. That way, if he thinks I am doing something bad, he can give the alarm. My friend, Adriana, will be glad to stay here with you until I return."
Adriana just looked at me, and then back to Miz Washington, before nodding.
Miz Washington looked at me for a moment, considering how I knew what she intended to do. Finally she said, "Jedidiah, take this here man to Miss Elsie's. And you stay with him. If he causes her any trouble, you come right back here and tell me, you understand?"
"Thank you, sweetheart," I thought to Adriana.
"Just hurry," she replied.
"I sure hope you know what you're doing," Penny told me as we followed the boy the two blocks to another stall that was remarkably similar to the first, only here, they actually had customers. A mother and daughter from Ohio were having braids put in their hair at the same time, by two older women. Jedidiah spoke to a woman I assumed was Miss Elsie in the strange mixture of French and English that made up the native creole language.
"What you be wantin' with a nigger girl?" Miss Elsie asked me after hearing what Jedidah had to say.
"I only want to speak with her for a moment, and I'll be glad to pay for her time," I replied, flashing a ten dollar bill in my hand.
Miss Elsie grabbed the bill and I watched as it disappeared into the recesses of a dingy bra encasing her voluminous brown breasts.
"She's back there," she said, indicating a direction with the tilt of her head.
I walked to the back of the shop, with Jedidiah trailing behind me. Penny stayed at the entrance to the stall, watching. Behind the stall I found a young girl bent over a bucket, washing the various combs and other tools of their trade. Her back was to me and I paused to study her for a moment. She had the same thin build, and the same light chocolate skin as her sister. She was also blocking my scan, even more effectively than her sister.
She rose, turning around to dry the items she had been washing, when she spied me.
"You ain't supposed to be back here," she said with an apathetic air about her.
"I came because of Abby," I told her.
Her attitude changed immediately, as a worried look flashed in her eyes. Outside, nothing showed. She was still just as cool as a cucumber.
"Did you find her, Michael?" Vickie thought to me.
"I think so. Hang on..." I replied.
"Well, hurry!" Vickie thought. "People are beginning to look at us weird."
"How did you..." she started, followed by a startled, " ... so it's you. You're the one!"
"I found her," I thought to Vickie.
"I could feel you. I could feel your inner eyes on me. And you have others with you. I heard them. What have you done to Abby?" Ayida said.
"If you're Ayida, I came to find you because Abby won't let me help her without you," I told her.
"Help her?" she asked.
Playing on what I sensed but didn't understand, I thought to her, "Yes, I am The One. I was sent to find you both. I think that you have been chosen, but I'm not sure yet. So I need to find out. It won't take long, and I can pay you for your time," I said, pulling a couple of twenties part of the way out of my pocket.
She studied me for a moment, and I sensed her trying to read me. Not like Vickie or I did, but still it was something. I was immediately intrigued, but first I needed to get her away from here. Too many ears.
"You're correct. This is not the place to discuss this," she said, ignoring the cash in my hand and looking at Jedidiah. Jedidiah, sensing her impending wrath, disappeared back into the stall.
"Where is Abby, and where are you taking us?" she asked in almost a whisper.
"My friends are with Abby, exactly where you left her. They're waiting on you," I explained softly. "If you'll come with me, we'll get your sister and my friends. Then we'll find some place safe and I'll be glad to discuss the whole thing with both of you."
Studying my face for a moment, she finally made her decision. I didn't try to read her. I have this prejudice about women and decision making.
Without a word, Ayida sat the things she had been working with on an old upturned fifty-five gallon drum to finish drying. Then removing her apron, she folded it neatly and placed it on the drum as well, before turning expectantly.
Penny was waiting for us as we walked past Miss Elsie and Jedidiah.
"Ayida, this is FBI Agent Lane. She is soon to become the head of my security, but for now, she is assigned to protect me. Do you need her to show your boss her badge or something?" I thought to both of them.
"That won't be necessary," she thought back. I could tell she had used this form of communication before.
"I'm going now," she told the woman, who just watched her leave without a word.
Together we headed back to the other stall to get Adriana, on our way to the public restrooms. I noticed Ayida was careful to stay a few steps behind Penny and me. I figured it was so she could make a break for it if she saw danger.
"It is frowned upon for me to be seen walking beside you," she thought to me.
I stopped suddenly, turning to look at her. I had forgotten that so much racial tension still existed in the south in 1971.
"What?" she asked out loud.
I laughed. I decided to let the girls explain about overhearing my thoughts to her later.
Ayida relaxed some and actually closed ranks with us a little more. But as we neared the stall where Adriana was still waiting, I could sense Ayida becoming tense.
"So a black MAN weren't good enough for ya, huh? You done gone to whorin' little white boys," Miz Washington spewed at Ayida venomously as we approached.
Ayida didn't respond. Instead, she moved slightly, positioning me between her and the big black woman, sitting on a dilapidated old lawn chair as we drew near.
I stopped suddenly. My eyes narrowed and my nostrils flared. Taking a deep breath, I exhaled slowly. Penny, recognizing the signs, placed her hand inside her bag as she quickly looked around.
"Miz Washington, I'd be careful if I were you. You never know, the next time you cross the spirits, might be your last," I thought to her as menacingly as I could.
"You don't scare me boy!" she exclaimed. But her eyes, wide with fright, gave away her false bravado.
I tweaked her a little, and she slumped back in the tattered old lawn chair. The paper fan she had been using to combat the afternoon's heat, fell from her hand.
Unable to speak or move her hands, Mabelle Washington stared at me in alarm. Penny's hand was still inside her bag, as she scanned all around for any other signs of danger. Ayida covered her mouth with her hand. Not in horror, but to hide a smile.
"Please sir," Ayida said humbly, "I'll do as you ask, only don't kill Miz Mabelle. She's really a kind person at heart."
I released Miz Mabelle and stood there looking into her eyes. Mabelle, remained silent, even though I knew she could speak. I also sensed her pain. The muscles in the back of her hands were knotted with arthritis.
"Is it your desire that I help this woman who attacked you?" I asked Ayida out loud.
"Please, sir," she replied.
"As you wish," I said.
Then taking the big black woman's hands in mine, I thought to her, "Do your hands hurt, Miz Washington?"
She craned her neck to look up at me, too scared to speak. I focused on her hands, using what I was beginning to learn about healing. Finally I told her, "Flex them for me."
"Lands sake!" she cried as I dropped her hands and stepped back a step. "Theys not hurtin'. Not at all."
"What'd he do to you?" one of the women asked.
"I don't know. I didn't feel nuthin'. Then he says to move 'em and theys don't hurt no more!" she explained.
There was an awkward silence, as everyone stared from me to Mabelle and back, waiting to see what would happen. Finally Mabelle started to thank me, but I cut her off. "Don't thank me, thank the girl. She's the one who asked me to pardon you!" I told her.
Mabelle turned to Ayida, as big tears came to her eyes, and guilt flooded her soul.
"Child, I always knew you was special. Just like yore momma," Mabelle told Ayida before pulling her into a big hug.
Blaze
- 04.04.2020
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