Gliding with the wind, Denny felt like one of those mosquito hawks, little flying insects who reproduced rapidly in the Westwego swamps. They were considered nuisances, and pesticide was used frequently to get rid of them on windows, lanterns, along with other household items.
Speaking of the swamps, Denny was close to them as he rode his bike further down River Road. They resided farther out east, buried under thickets and tall moss trees. Many other wild animals crept along the marsh water there, some even nearing close to townships. Gator sightings were common around these parts, but the townsfolk were smart enough to know where they'd be.
Most of them mainly avoided canals and water esplanades, but other pesky insects like mosquito hawks crowded townships in humid temperatures. They dwindled a bit since it was early October now, but by no means were gone yet. It wouldn't be until much later that the weather would drop to drastic amounts.
He didn't pay too much attention to detail, more involved in biking as of now. He was listening to "Fall Out Boy" songs now, recounting the descriptions of hawk mosquitos.
They sure are pests ta society, he thought. Like me, I guess.
Denny was then reminded of another pest, his business partner Freddie David. The guy was constantly contacting Denny anonymously, with multiple questions that he didn't have answers to yet. Still, his information on Tulane fraternities was reliable. All that needed to happen now was the part where Denny picked up the alcohol.
His first idea was to visit a convenience store near Piggly Wiggly, where Denny was supposed to grab groceries for the family. His ma had sent him a text, entailing a list of important items on there. At least they assumed he was keeping busy before he'd start work in Metairie next week.
Again, another text from Freddie.
Denny checked the time, 10:15 AM, fairly early on Saturday. He didn't have much to do during the day but would go to a party on Hooter again after everything was settled. Carter invited him, along with Harper, for one last hurrah before he and the McFarlands officially moved out of their house on Oak.
I'll miss it, he thought solemnly. Made a lot o' good memories there.
Denny opened up his messages again, making sure to keep himself occupied on the road as well. Freddie had texted him urgently, listing some drink specials that were the cravings at Tulane right now. There also was an online deposit Denny received of twenty dollars, to spend on the drinks.
Of course, Freddie was busy for the weekend, probably partying crazy at the college for all he knew. Yet, Denny didn't care about what Freddie did with his time, as he was only a business partner at the end of the day. It did raise questions to Freddie's motivation for the business, and if he really cared about its success. Perhaps this would just be his way of screwing Denny over, payback for what happened to his dad Horace.
He needs to do his job, and I'll do mine, Denny remembered, repeating that sentence over and over. He even blurted it out loud several times.
Nobody listened, as there was little traffic out today. It urged the stillness of the swamp lands, resonating with the bright skies and clouds. Denny then passed by a roundabout intersection, taking a road called Louisiana St further south. More buildings came into view, mostly parking and storage units enclosed in barbed wire fences. People were protective of their things here, especially close to the town center.
Several cars and trucks sped by the next intersection, where Denny noticed the town plaza. He could tell from the white clock tower in the center of the intersection. Denny was always weirded out by the clock tower, as there was no signpost near it, signifying that it had no name. It was one of the only places where he and his miscreant friends didn't break into.
Many more buildings appeared down 4th Street, the next street left of Louisiana. Some were yellow and red; constructed in many colors. Some aged in time, and others were infected with commercialized products for newcomers to Westwego. All in all, the city was timeless in its splendor, a unique part of the township.
Of course, what came from that were hundreds of townspeople, living in small townhomes or ranches crowded between each other. It was even worse if these homes were run-down, taking a greater hit from the hurricane and affecting their neighborhoods.
Denny cruised down the third street, Avenue H, as time moved on. In fact, it had taken him almost half an hour to make it here by bike. As he sped south, the avenue hosted a variety of homes, with all kinds of people out and about. Some were kids playing in the streets, others were adults playing pickup basketball in a parking lot. Denny envied how lively they were.
As he traversed out of the neighborhoods, Denny ended up at the Westbank freeway, where hundreds of traveling vehicles crossed every which way. It was a big change from the local area, with money-making facilities placed altogether. One of these was the town casino, with a gold Saints logo engraved on the side of the wall. This casino hosted bettors and gamblers alike, most of them from Westwego. It was a popular attraction in the town center, a several-story building with a bar, dance floor, and hundreds of slot machines.
Disappointed by it, Denny visited there every so often when he needed time to waste downtown. Sure, he'd be losing money most of the time, but the rush of adrenaline he felt while inside was unlike anything else. Yet, once he walked out the front doors, the storm of reality came crashing down on him.
On the opposite side of the casino, across the freeway was a public park, with a middle school residing on it. More importantly, it was the same middle school Denny remembered attending before L.W. Higgins, as well as Carter. He didn't remember much, only that it was filled with ruffian adolescents and an empty education system.
Why would it be? Denny thought. It's right next to a casino, for Christ's sake. We were corrupted ever since that place came to be.
But the same place he despised, he frequented, Denny realized. Ironically, that was the way he conformed to the adult life.
Denny ignored thinking about the casino any longer, waiting for the crossing signal once traffic cleared on the expressway. He quickly sailed past it, coming into the outskirts of the downtown area. This was where he expected to find a convenient convenience store, making his way to Piggly Wiggly after. Denny checked the time again, as it read close to 11:00 AM now. He was a bit behind the planned schedule, but it didn't matter much.
I don't wanna keep ma waiting too long, Denny reminded himself, looking left and right to the nearest plazas. Wouldn't want her ta wonder why I spent several hours just pickin' up groceries.
To his curiosity, Denny spotted a dull, olive-green-colored building with a spacious, vacant lot around it. A couple of tables were set on the front patio, with a balcony and steps rising to the second floor. Denny observed the larger letters on the top roof, displaying "Mo's Café."
It was strange since he was unfamiliar with the café. Had he ever visited it? Something crossed his mind while envisioning the building, but he couldn't remember why.
Instead, there was a person sitting alone on one of the tables. She was Black, with straightened ivory-colored hair seeping down to her chest. She wore a sunflower-printed shirt and jean shorts, a smoke sossidge sandwich in her hands. Once she noticed Denny staring at her, she waved at him to come and join.
What? He thought to himself. Do I know this girl? Why is she waving at me?
A part of him was begging to keep pedaling, to ignore this mysterious girl's request. It was the logical choice, right?
But the other part, the inner part, persuaded him to sit next to her. It was tempting him to talk to her.
No, you idiot, Denny stated. This is one of those choices where you always tend to fuck up and cause problems for everyone else. Ignoring this girl, here and now, will be the smart choice. It's the right choice.
And so, Denny moved along.
"Wait!" the girl cried out, grabbing his attention once more. "I want in!"
YOU ARE READING
Dionysia
Mistério / SuspenseENTRY FOR OPEN NOVELLA 2023 PROMPT 11: A new business opens in a small town. The townspeople are intrigued by what is being offered by the business owners, and soon the town and its people begin to behave in unusual ways. Ever since the devastation...