To Live Forever: An Afterlife Journey of Meriwether Lewis (5 page)

TEN

Meri
wether Lewis. I
always knew he was here.

A Nowhere Man.

Like me.

Still the self-righteous bastard. Always followed the rules.

The opposite of me.

I’d been in Nowhere for almost two hundred years. Several stints. That whole business about recovering my good name, ensuring my immortal place in history? Bullshit. I skipped out on my last assignment and built the life I always wanted. Right here. In between the margins. Where power could be my heavenly reward.

I constructed my empire and looked for the spirit of my wife. My Ann. I always knew she was here somewhere. That she was housed in the body of a little girl was something I couldn’t help.

‘Find me again.’

She whispered it through bloody teeth, her lungs rotted by tuberculosis. It got worse after we were forced out of St. Louis. She couldn’t last in the Natchez heat.

All because of that damn Lewis.

In a way, I was glad he had her. Obliterating him would give my reunion with Ann another edge. It was like a bonus.

I thought back to the blue tinge on that nun’s face. Her thick tongue and bloodshot eyes. That croaking sound she made when her soul gave up and floated away.

Violence always made sex a shivering rhapsody of desire.

ELEVEN

“Get
them. Don’t shoo
t the girl.” I looked back to see the Judge duck into the street and evaporate into the swirl of humanity, while his sidekick started after us.

Emmaline bolted down a tunnel that led from the back of the courtyard, dragging me behind her. The crash of a wooden door rang through the footfalls of pursuit. She turned left at a T junction that led us into cavelike dark, morbid and damp. I breathed through the sensation of being suffocated by the intense weight of it. My knee grazed a sharp corner. A chain reaction of toppled yard furniture or ironwork.

Blind, I reached through the nothing in front of me and felt Emmaline’s snarled hair.

“Know where we’re going?”

Her voice bounced back to me. “Dead end. Up ahead. Almost there.”

“Dead end? How’s that going to get us out of here?”

“We can climb the wall. I’ve done it before.”

A crash of metal and a cry of pain echoed through the alley. Whatever I knocked over, it was a only temporary roadblock for the Judge’s henchman.

Wilkinson, of all people.

His shadow haunted every hour of my tenure in office. He used his connections in Washington to lobby for shifting trade rules. Less money for the territory. Spread rumors that I was a drunk. He even made mortifying insinuations about my friendship with Clark. He hounded me until the night I died, with one of his men just outside.

Or was he? I couldn’t remember.

Steel scraped on stone, and the beat of footsteps resumed. The weak beam of a flashlight snaked around a corner.

“Hurry, Emmaline. We almost there?”

In answer, she dragged me through a narrow opening, a break between two buildings. Light streamed like whitewater falling through a crack. Emmaline wrapped her hands around the gutter and scaled the brick-and-stucco corner to the top of a wooden fence. She mouthed the words
follow me
before dropping over the side.

I had one shot to get over the fence before they’d be on me. Maybe. Easier said than done, with my sore legs and banged-up knee. I grabbed the drainpipe and hoisted myself along the wet wall. My shoes slipped. No traction. I used all the strength in my arms to pull myself up, but the opening where Emmaline disappeared was a tight squeeze. I leaned forward and put my chest flat, ready to push off the wall with my legs and dive head first into the other side of the unknown.

“Stop right there.”

Eyes squinted up at me through the line of light in his hand. The beam shuddered as he panted. In his other fist, the round silencer at the end of a pistol was trained up at me. I hung there, suspended, a human bulls-eye.

“Reach over that wall. Pull the girl back over.” The man jerked his gun hand through the beam of light to make sure I saw it. Static blared from a box. He pulled it in front of his mouth. “Yeah. I got ‘em. You can go on back to your house and wait. Over.”

I glanced over the wall. Emmaline looked up at me, her dress torn at the hem. Her right knee was slick with blood. Details I wished to remember in case I woke up in the bar, a publican for all time.

I could wish, but I knew I would never remember.

She motioned to me. “Just fall, Merry. It’s not far.”

I closed my eyes and inched my body over the divide. Steel ground on steel. A silenced click tore through me. Sent me over the wall in a free fall. The impact knocked the wind out of me. I realized I was still breathing when I bounced on asphalt.

Emmaline ran over and tugged on my jacket, trying to pull me to my feet. “Get up. Hurry.”

I fought to breathe and ran my fingers over my chest, before shoving them inside my denim shirt. I felt a clear sheen on my skin. Sweat. Nothing more.

Head pounding, I pulled myself to my knees and crawled for cover along the back of one of the buildings, her in tow. The crooked cop was still in the alley, cursing and scratching at the barrier. When he fired a couple of bullets, they broke through and whizzed into empty space. Rounds of light and a rush of breath.

“I’m not hit, Emmaline. Bastard missed.”

“He’s trying to climb the fence.”

“That sack of skin-and-bones can’t climb a fence.”

“Are you sure?”

I nudged her back. “Come on. The Judge might have other people out here looking for you.”

Wide-eyed, Emmaline scanned the parking lot where three cars sat cold under a single floodlight. “Can you get one of those cars started, Merry?”

I eyed the machines. Mystical devices that replaced the grit of human effort. I might’ve learned to drive on a different assignment, but every Nowhere experience was new. I started every job with the tools I had in life.

They didn’t include driving.

“I’m not so great with cars.” I studied the rest of the space. Uneven brick. An iron porch or two. A blank hole, recessed into a wall. “What about that opening there? Other side of the lot. Where does that go?”

Her lips moved along her mental city map. “It comes out at the end. Close to the Cathedral.”

“Can we get to the river from there?”

Scratches drifted over the fence, and a thud rattled the wooden slats. The man shouted orders through the static on the handheld radio. I couldn’t hear who answered.

“We don’t have much time. Can we get to the river? Think, Emmaline.”

She chewed her lip. Nodded. “We can run along the side of the big square. It comes out at Café du Monde. Daddy used to take me there.”

I nudged her in the direction of the arched doorway, dragging myself to a run behind her. “Get us out of here.”

When I made to follow her, I was blinded by brick shrapnel. Tasted blood. Another shot, followed by more staccato footsteps and another voice.

“Quit shooting! The Judge wants the girl alive.”

I ignored the rest and kept moving, forced my body between the possibility of more gunfire and Emmaline’s bouncing curls. Kept my eye on an arch of light at the far end of the alley. Emmaline tugged at an iron gate, and we pushed into a circle of party girls on the sidewalk. Sequins every place. Their sparkle blocked my view of Emmaline. “Watch the dress, jerk!” One of them slurred.

I forged ahead, fighting to keep Emmaline’s head in my sights. She weaved through the people on the sidewalk with the advantage of size and a low center of gravity while I bumped and shoved, clumsy.

“Stop that man!” A gravelly voice shouted. From a side street, another uniform sprang into the sidewalk, eyes locked on me.

I pushed around a teenage boy and sprinted along the iron fence at Jackson Square, lungs burning. The awning at Café du Monde glowed green and white up ahead, people swarming underneath. Vultures, hungry for white powder and fried dough.

Where the iron fence gave out, Emmaline hung a sharp right and disappeared. I closed the few steps and rounded the fence just in time to see Emmaline tear through traffic to a wall on the other side of the street.

The levee. It had to be.

Car horns blared as I plowed through headlights to the other side of the road and crawled up the grade to the top of the levee. Emmaline waited there, bent over with her hands on her knees, panting hard. Across the street, our two pursuers dove into traffic. I nudged her. “Move it. Now.”

I forced my agonized legs into another run, pulling Emmaline with me.

The levee was a series of barriers that held back the river. Dark warehouses. Smokestacks. Railroad tracks. The Mississippi slipped into nothing around a sharp bend. I stopped and scanned the docks, seeking any kind of boat to steal. Empty water lapped against the levee, holding nothing that would float.

“Last call for the Cotton Blossom! See New Orleans at night!” A voice cracked over a loudspeaker. Close. I pushed toward the sound, through industrial canyons and the stink of engine oil, my heartbeat a thud in my ears.

Lights along the levee lit up whirlpools of muddy water. A horn sounded, low and long. In front of us, a steamboat was anchored. Its red wheel turned, ready to depart. I took Emmaline’s hand and ran toward it.

The Cotton Blossom. A ticket taker was closing his window underneath that sign. I stopped in front and knocked on the glass. The man ignored me, intent on shuttering his space.

I looked over my shoulder. The uniformed goons advanced down the embankment. In less than a minute, they’d be upon us. I pushed my desperation aside and mustered a weary smile. Tried to catch the man’s eye. “Bend the rules a little? I promised my daughter we’d have a ride tonight. She’s got her heart set on it, but her fool mother didn’t bring her over to my place on time.”

He looked me over through the glass, hard-like. Emmaline shook her dripping head and flashed a shy smile. He leaned on the counter and sighed. Softened. He pulled out two tickets and pushed them toward us. “Ride’s on me. Hurry. It’s leaving any second now.”

“Thanks, Mister!” Emmaline called. We ran up the metal ramp to the entrance of the boat. Somebody shouted over the jazz band tuning up on deck. A steward moved a bar aside to let us on board.

“Welcome to the Cotton Blossom. May I punch your ticket?”

I handed the man two tickets and scooted us into the jeweled crowd on deck. One last look at land, and I spotted Wilkinson’s men following us up the ramp. They leapt over the gap the boat left when it pulled away.

Emmaline swallowed a scream. I slipped us around to the other side of the boat and draped a protective arm around her shoulder. “Let’s mingle, Miss Emmaline. Stay close to me. You’re in my territory now.”

TWELVE

I glued
my hand to Merry’
s and followed him into the crowd of dancers on deck. A jazz band played “Am I Blue” with a not-fast beat, and I thought of Daddy. I imagined him among those white suits, strumming his upright bass and singing. The song was one of Daddy’s favorites. A jam, he called it, even though it was about sad things.

Merry lifted me into his arms and twirled us around the dance floor. My feet spun above the ground, my own merry-go-round. The Judge’s men were out there, watching us. I threw my head back. Powdery clouds spun with stars as Merry twirled me.

All the time I’d been longing for Daddy. I couldn’t believe I was on my way, if the Judge’s men didn’t stop us. I peeked around Merry’s head, but I only saw ladies in fancy dresses dancing with men in suits.

At the far end of the deck, Merry pulled my head close to him and whispered in my ear.

“Those two are along the railing on the right-hand side. They can’t do anything to us right now.”

He dipped me close to the floor, and the wind whipped my hair. A dance with Merry was the best playground ever, but his eyes were serious when I popped up.

“Don’t look, but there’s a life boat hanging along the railing, about half-way down the upper deck. Head that way.”

“But what if I can’t follow you?”

“I won’t let go of your hand, Emmaline. I promise.” He dipped me again, and I almost smiled. When I came close to his face, he kept talking. “Those cretins haven’t figured out where the boat is yet, but they will. I’m sure they’ll block our approach.”

“How will we trick them?”

“We’ve got to make a run for it now, Emmaline. Climb in, crouch low and hang on. It’ll take a few seconds for the boat to fall into the river. Brace for it.”

I wanted to turn my head to see where the boat was. Merry was being so good to me. I needed to get my part right. But all I could think of was Daddy.

I closed my eyes and nodded along with the beat of “Blue.” It made him closer to me.

“I’m coming to you, Daddy.”

My mumbled words were lost as the red wheel of the boat turned faster. The steamboat drifted into the night. I held on to Merry as he worked us to the edge of the dancers and sang with the last chorus of “Am I Blue.” Merry dipped me again. Once and up. Twice and up.

The third time, he put my head close to the deck and gripped me in the basket of his arms. With the dancers as a shield, he kept our bodies hidden and moved toward the escape boat. In three steps, he had us in the side walkway and set me on my feet.

A white boat hung from a bar close to the ceiling. Merry climbed the railing and rustled the cover. Without explaining, he picked me up and pushed me over the wooden side. I flew over the Mississippi, before the world went dark, and my knees hit the bottom of the boat. When I peeked over the edge, Merry stood on top of the railing, ready to throw one leg up and climb in with me.

“Stop!” A deep voice called from the front of the steamboat. “A thief on the lifeboat! Stop the music! He’s stealing the lifeboat!”

“Em, hang on tight.” Merry had one leg over the side, the boat tilting like a scary carnival ride as he slid his other foot off the railing. I kept my head down while the boat swung back and forth. The cover lifted away and Merry pulled himself into the boat with me. People raced along the deck while we tick-tocked over the dark river. I held onto the side as hard as I could.

“Stay down!” Merry shouted. He worked a lever with one hand, but one of the men jumped up and grabbed the side of the boat. The motion caused Merry to stumble, and his hand slipped off the lever as he fell. When he came up, Merry balled up his fist and popped the man in the face. His nose crunched and started to bleed, but he threw one arm over the side of the boat and tried to pull his legs inside. With his other arm, he reached for me, but I slid along the bottom of the boat to get behind Merry. I felt the man’s fingers brush against my leg as he swiped at me again, and I kicked at his hands.

He yelped and shouted, but his hands kept grabbing for me.

I crawled into the back corner, but the man spat mean words as he gripped the side of our boat. With the toe of his boot, Merry kicked the man’s hands until they were sticky with blood, over and over. I ducked my head between my legs to hide my eyes and ears. Finally, the man cursed and let go, and the boat lurched again. I sat up and looked over the side, my fingers running along the bloody bits he left. His body fell away, knocking over some of the people who were watching from the deck.

“And stay out!” I shouted. We rocked harder as Merry lowered our boat to the water, ping-ping-pinging against the side of the steamboat.

A man in a different uniform shouted through the microphone from the front of the dancers and the quiet band. “I am the captain of this vessel, and I command you to stop!”

Another hand sailed over the railing and grabbed my shoulder. Angry brown eyes locked onto mine a split second before my whole world fell. Sound roared in my ears. I screamed as the boat twisted into the black night and braced myself for whatever came next.

I was scared, but being with Merry was more fun than I could ever remember. At least, since Daddy. It was like I was alive again. Life was an adventure. As the wind beat against me, I squeezed Merry’s leg to keep from falling out of the boat.

“Hang on, Emmaline! Hang on!” Merry shouted. As we spun into space, my arms hurt, but I didn’t break my grip. I was too young to die, and I couldn’t die until I saw Daddy again.

It wouldn’t be right.