We'll Meet Again

Chapter One: A Wonderful Guy

The twenty-hour trip on the Panama Limited from Chicago to New Orleans had been brutal. The humid warmth of the city was a sharp contrast to the encroaching chill that had begun to overtake Chicago, and Vox quickly found himself sweating in his well-tailored wool suit. A short walk took him to the streetcar stop, which whisked him to the hotel he had arranged. His room was nice enough, a far cry from the amenities of his Chicago penthouse but the change in scenery was refreshing. By the time he had settled in and unpacked his suitcases, the sun was setting and his stomach was protesting his disregard for lunch. Wandering down to the lobby and inquiring with the concierge netted him directions to a nice restaurant. The energy of the place was lively; before prohibition, it had been a bar, but the lack of hard drink seemed not to have hindered the popularity of this place. A band on stage played a lively jazz tune, and there was space left in the middle of the room where people were dancing. Vox wasn't sure what about him had told the concierge this place would appeal to him, but he felt a little out of place being nearly the only white person in the bar. He sat at the only available seat at the bar. To his right was a wall, and to his left was a well-dressed young man he guessed was around his age. Vox looked the man over a bit while waiting for someone to take his order. His hair was dark but straight, neatly trimmed, and parted to one side. His smooth, clean-shaven face was a lovely caramel color. His suit fit him well and looked tailored, and he was wearing a pair of small glasses that perched precariously on his nose. Vox didn't realize how lost he had gotten in looking over this handsome stranger until a man behind the bar asked him if he needed anything; it did not sound like the first time he had asked. Vox turned sharply to address the waiter his mismatched eyes quickly scanning the board behind the bar which was boldly titled "Menu". He wasn't quite sure what a PoBoy was but he knew a young man in his office who had visited here last year said they were good so he ordered one and hoped it wasn't a mistake. When he turned back towards the stage the stranger beside him had turned his head to look at Vox his pretty face dominated by a puzzled expression. Vox felt himself blush a little and hated himself for it.

"Hello, name's Vox. Please to meet you."

He extended a hand to shake politely which the stranger took and shook firmly. A wide smile split the man's face.

"Alastor, pleasure to be meeting you, quite a pleasure. I get the feeling you are not from around here."

Alastor's voice was smooth, and untouched by any discernable accent. His firm handshake and charismatic delivery gave Vox the impression that this man might be a salesman of some sort. He returned the man's wide smile with a grin and leaned against the bar.

"Oh, what gave me away?"

Alastor looked him up and down and replied in a matter-of-fact tone.

"Your accent, nice suit, modern haircut, and the fact you happened into this establishment despite the large coloreds only sign out front. That leads me to the idea you are from up north, likely a larger city, that does not have the same ideas about segregation Louisiana does."

Vox shrugged and bobbed his head to one side conceding the point.

"Fair enough, you caught me. I'm from Chicago, came in on the train today for a vacation."

Alastor nodded to the waiter returning with the sandwich Vox had ordered. Vox turns his head in the indicated direction. He thanked the waiter and took the sandwich looking it over with a critical eye before taking a bite. Alastor chuckled as Vox's eyes widened in surprised delight. Vox smiled at him and spoke still chewing.

"That's really good!"

The comment shifted Alastor's polite chuckle to a genuine laugh. It lit up his face and made his wide smile seem more genuine. In his later years, Vox would recount that as the moment he well and truly fell in love with the charming stranger. Whether or not that was hyperbole it most certainly was the moment he put together the courage to make a request. He swallowed and looked Alastor in the eye.

"Hey, so I just got here, and I don't know anyone around. Is there any chance you might be willing to show me around one day? If you have time of course."

Alastor looked up seeming to consider Vox for the first time. His jet-black hair was slicked into a pompadour that was well-maintained. He noted for the first time that Vox not only had a prominent scar on his left eye but that his eyes did not match. The young man gazed hopefully at Alastor with one sky blue and one crimson red eye. He noted with some interest that the sandwich so recently delivered was sat on the bar all but forgotten, Vox was invested in the answer. Alastor took his time chewing over the request somewhat enjoying the sight of Vox squirming with anticipation. He wondered what that said about him as a person. Considered his watch and was somewhat surprised at the time it gave.

"Sure Vox. I am usually available around noon. Where are you staying? I will just pick you up at the hotel and we can have lunch."

Vox worked hard at controlling his face and containing the excitement he was feeling.

"I am staying at The Holly and Ivy Hotel."

Alastor looked him over again, surprised.

"Nice place, and expensive. I am sure you will love it. I will see you tomorrow at noon sharp, just wait for me in the lobby."

With that, Alastor adjusted his coat, straightened his tie, and took his leave. He left a little confused at the young man's request, but curious to see what the day would bring. He left Vox feeling like he was floating a bit, his heart pounding excitedly. He was sure he wouldn't sleep a wink that night. He finished his sandwich and listened to the band on stage a bit before heading out and wandering to his hotel.