A Cold Day in Hell (21 page)

T
HE
B
OARDROOM
B
OYS
, playing “Here Comes Santa Claus” with Bugbelly Pitts grinding the words through his callused throat, set a wild tone. Aaron wondered if they played this loud at The Boardroom. Playing in front of the thirty-foot, glittering, flashing Christmas tree Mayor Patrick Damalis had arranged as a personal gift to the town, the Boys had replaced their Stetsons with Santa hats and wore red, green-and-white-striped vests.

“You people have weird ideas about music,” Sonny told Aaron. “My grandpa used to say I couldn’t carry a tune in a bucket, but I reckon I could do as good as that Bugbelly.”

Aaron smirked. “Shows what you know about Cajun music,” he said. “You’ve been here long enough to learn, but maybe it’s your ears that still need workin’ on.” He punched a booted foot into the surface of the street, keeping time.

The shops lining the street were closed but had their interior lights on low. Holiday strands twinkled in most windows. Smells from a giant pot of crab and shrimp boil, sausage on a barbecue, and frying beignets drew crowds to the food stands. Aaron saw Gracie Loder serving up daiquiris in plastic cups for the Boardroom right next to Buzzard’s Beer Garden.

“That’s one great tent,” Sonny said, pointing to what looked like an acre of green-and-white canvas.

Aaron watched children running in and out of an open flap.

“It’s called a marquee. Delia uses it when she has a party out at Place Lafource. I guess the food goes in there. She lent it to the fair in case it rains. They’ve kids’ games in there.”

“How come you know that and I don’t?” Sonny said.

Aaron shugged. “Maybe they don’t have garden parties in Brooklyn?”

“Garden parties?” Sonny laughed. “You’re jerking my chain.”

Two local cops wandered by looking relaxed. Everybody had heard how Lobelia requested searches for possible terrorists. Aaron grinned. Apart from folks who had come in with stalls of stuff to sell, he figured he knew everyone there.

“I didn’t know these people had it in ’em,” Sonny said, rubbernecking in all directions to take in the scene. “Did you see that Wazoo, or whatever she’s called? The woman from Toussaint who reads dogs’ minds?”

“Cats’, too,” Aaron said, laughing. “Reckons she’s an animal psychologist. Maybe we could borrow Locum to get a look inside her tent.”

“You borrow him,” Sonny said. “I like Chuzah a lot, but I’m not going all the way out to his place—not in the dark.”

“We’ve done it before and you liked it once we were there,” Aaron said, looking away and frowning. Chuzah was special and he was the only one Aaron knew who didn’t expect anything from a person. “Just be,” was one of Chuzah’s favorite sayings. He wanted to
just be,
Aaron thought. His mom only wanted things to make his life better, but she still didn’t seem to understand how a guy needed space and quiet and time to think.

“You okay?” Sonny asked, elbowing him.

“Sure.” Aaron flashed him a grin. “I’m great, just taking it all in. Nothing much happens around here so when there is a shindig it takes some getting used to.” He liked having Sonny around.

“It’s cold,” Sonny said. “It’s not supposed to get this cold in Louisiana.”

“Who says? Just be grateful we don’t get snow here—or almost never do. You want to go see the animal woman? There’s got to be someone who’d let us use their pet.” At that moment he saw Hoover, Aurelie Board’s big dog, hanging around Sarah Board. “I bet Hoover’s head would be worth a look inside.”

They sauntered up to Sarah who said, “Hi,” with a big grin.

“Okay,” Aaron said. “I’m just coming right out with it. If we promise to take care of Hoover, can we borrow him to take to the animal lady?”

The music had grown even louder and Sarah took the boys aside. She made them repeat the request then said, “Miz Wazoo is an animal psychologist. It says so on her sign. There’s a long line for her but if that’s what you want to do, be my guest. Hoover could use some analyzing. His leash is draped around my mother’s neck. Tell her I said you could use it.”

Delia Board not only gave Aaron the leash, she also insisted on tucking money for the “consultation” into his hand with a request, “Ask her if she knows why he sucks up and chews everything he sees. Food, plants, pens, socks, everything. If she can cure that, it would be a nice homecoming gift when Aurelie and Nick get back.”

When they got close to a black tent outlined with blue fairy lights Sonny said, “Look at the line.” The sound of barking didn’t quit and some owners wrestled to control their animals. “You sure we want to do this?”

Aaron held Hoover’s leash. The dog’s huge tongue lolled out of his mouth and what could be seen of his eyes through shaggy black bangs looked adoringly at each of them. “I think he likes being with us,” Aaron said. “Look at him sitting right there. He likes the leash.”

“Why don’t we take it in turns to stand in line, then?” Sonny suggested. “You go first and I’ll stay. You’re supposed to check in with Eileen.”

Reluctantly, Aaron agreed and took off to find the Poke Around stall. He saw his mother before she saw him. She was laughing with Frances Broussard who owned the salon next to Poke Around at the Oakdale Mansion Center. Angel stood with his arms crossed and the closest thing Aaron had ever seen to discomfort on the man’s face. Rusty Barnes from the newspaper was taking a picture of them. He finished and hung with Angel, gesturing and talking.

“Hey,” Aaron said, planting himself front and center. “I need Christmas presents, lots of ’em. I’ve got all these people to give totally unique stuff to.”

Angel chewed the inside of a cheek and rocked onto his toes and back.

“Unique is unique,” Aaron’s mom said.

“That’s what I said. Totally unique stuff.”

“It’s already totally. Unique means the only one of its kind—”

“Give him a break,” Angel said and grinned. “Will you look at this?” he said to Rusty. “She’s got me playing shop boy. I have to check the price on anything I sell and if the customer doesn’t pick it up and give it to me—if they just ask for something—I don’t know what they want.”

“How much are those?” Rusty said. He pointed at the laden stall. Angel followed the direction of the finger for an instant before landing a backhand on Rusty’s chest. Rusty winced and pretended to stagger. “Almost had you there,” he said.

Eileen finished wrapping a bunch of crystal icicles in tissue paper and took money from Frances. “You know what Angel’s anglin’ for, don’t you?” Frances said, lifting her mouth to Aaron’s ear. She had about a million long but tiny twists in her black hair. The twists left the ends loose and they were bleached light gold and curled up. He thought it all looked cute.

“You know, don’t you?” Frances said.

He started. “I like your hair. What are those called?”

Frances patted her head as if she couldn’t remember what her hair looked like. “These are Michael twists. Any time you feel like makin’a statement, you come right on in and I’ll give you a whole new look. Now, you gonna answer my question?”

Fortunately, he remembered it. He grinned at Frances and turned to Angel. “I wish I could take over for you, man, but Sonny’s waiting for me. We’re in line with Hoover to see the animal woman—I mean psychologist. Miz Delia Board wants us to ask some questions for her.” That wasn’t a lie.

Frances laughed, a rich sound that got everyone around them chuckling, too.

She moved off with her icicles and Eileen said to Angel, “Suky-Jo sold out those sachets she makes so she’s gone home for more. She’ll be back to spring you soon—after I get some fresh stock from the van.”

Angel turned to her and said, “You will not be going to the van on your own.”

Aaron’s mom started to say something, but he saw her change her mind about what that was going to be. “I’m sorry you hate doing this,” she said. “You did volunteer, Christian.”

Angel scrunched up his face. “She calls me Christian when I’m in trouble. Right now she’s pissed off—”

“Christian!”

“Yeah, well.” Angel crossed his arms again, but his instant smile slowly left his face and he turned toward the next booth. He held very still.

Aaron almost asked what was up but thought better of it.

“It’s about time Santa showed up,” Rusty said. “I hear we’re all in for a surprise.”

“Who’s being Santa?” Aaron asked.

Rusty said, “Now, how would I know? It’s a well-kept secret. Smell that barbecue. I’m going to get something for dinner.”

“I’ll go for you,” Angel said, reaching for his wallet. “Just tell me what you want. All you have to do is watch the booth.”

Rusty laughed. “I won’t know what I want till I see it. I’ll scout around first.” He wandered off.

“I should get back to Sonny so he can look at stuff. He wanted to eat, too.”

A hand landed on his shoulder. “Hey, Aaron. How’s it going?”

He turned toward his dad’s voice and got pulled into a bear hug. Hugging back came naturally, and it felt good. “I’m great, Dad,” he said when they stood back. “You enjoying the fair?”

“Better now I see you. Bought anything?”

“Not yet.” He dropped his voice. “I’ve seen a necklace I’m gonna get Mom as soon as I’m sure she won’t see me.”

“Sounds good. Expensive?”

“It’s worth it. I don’t spend on anything much.”

“Here.” Chuck pulled out his wallet. “This’ll help.”

“No,” Aaron said. “Honest, I’ve got enough.”

His father stuffed some bills into Aaron’s pocket. “Maybe there’s earrings or a bracelet, too,” he said and hugged Aaron again. “I miss you, son,” he said quietly.

Aaron’s throat got tight and he nodded.

“Evening, Chuck,” Angel said. He sounded too calm for Aaron’s comfort.

Chuck turned to the stall and said, “Good evenin’ to both of you. How’s business?”

Aaron’s mom hadn’t left yet. She was putting a painted metal penguin with legs made of springs into a tissue-lined box. She kept her attention on her customer, and smiled too brightly, laughed too loud. Once the transaction was completed, she moved immediately to help the next in line and Angel actually said, “Anything I can sell you, Chuck?”

Aaron grew hot. He felt a little sick.

“Sure,” Chuck said. “I’ll take one of those penguins like Eileen just sold. Make it two. I’ve got to get my shopping done.”

“Bye Mom and Dad,” Aaron said and added, “Bye Angel.” But he knew what he’d said and how it sounded and his stomach turned over again.

He fled back toward the animal woman’s tent but did stop at Lori’s Gems, an out-of-town seller, to buy the jade necklace he’d seen earlier. He added both a matching pair of earrings and a bracelet and discovered the money his father had given him covered everything.

“Sonny,” he shouted when he got close to Wazoo’s tent. “Your turn.”

“Woohoo,” Sonny said, handing over control of Hoover’s leash. “I just about passed out from hunger.”

“Are we next?” Aaron asked. Sonny and Hoover were at the front of the line. “We
are
next. You can’t go for food now.”

“You’ll do fine,” Sonny said. “I’ve had enough of dogs and cats for one night. When you’re through, come to the food tent. I’ll still be there.” He took off, then ran back. “Chuzah’s in there with her. I saw him take Locum in while I was way back in line and he’s stayed there for everyone who went in since.”

“Yeah?” Aaron grinned. “Maybe he reads animal brains, too.”

This time Sonny did meld in with the crowd, going in the direction of the food vendors.

“You sick of waiting, boy?” Aaron said, rubbing the area between Hoover’s ears. The dog got closer to make it easier for Aaron to scratch him.

The tent flap opened and Cyril from the hardware store walked out with a black lab. “She’s great,” Cyril said to Aaron in passing.

A bell rang and the woman behind Aaron said, “That means you’re to go in.”

He realized his hand had turned sweaty on the leash but in he went, pulling aside the flap and letting it drop behind him. Getting used to the gloom took a moment.

“Come to Wazoo,” a dark-haired woman said, looking directly at Hoover. “A Bouvier de Flandres and a very handsome fellow. Sit by me.”

Aaron let go of the leash and Hoover went at once to sit beside Wazoo. He looked up into her face.

Slightly behind Wazoo sat Chuzah with Locum who cocked his head and stared at Aaron. “This is a friend of mine,” Chuzah said. “Aaron Moggeridge.”

Aaron met Chuzah’s eyes. The man’s stare held first question, then, after a few seconds, emptiness. Tonight he wore an orange Hawaiian shirt and loose, white cotton pants. The clothes shouldn’t be warm enough but he looked comfortable—all the way to his long, silver-tipped nails.

“You should tell Wazoo how Hoover shows his troubles,” Chuzah said.

“He, er, isn’t mine,” Aaron said. “He belongs to some people who are out of town and I’m bringing him for their family. I was asked to tell you he, er, sucks up everything. Anything he can get to. He chews it and gets into trouble. His grandma wants—I mean a member of the family that owns him wants to know why he does it and what to do about it.”