Mardi Gras 1969

Chapter 1

Mardi Gras February 1969'

Lincoln stared into his glass of bourbon, now only half-full. He could slightly make out his reflection in the murky brown concoction. He drew the glass to his lips to take a sip, but set the glass down in his palms and sighed instead. It was now Mardi Gras, and a year had passed since the robbery at the federal reserve. He chuckled to himself as he remembered what he managed to pull off that night. His smile quickly faded, as he rubbed the scar on the side of his head, a painful reminder of the unexpected aftermath of that night. He hadn't felt it closely in a while, and cautiously traced it with his fingers. He could feel the exposed bone making a straight line from the side of his forehead to the back of his hairline.

The sensation of the scar overwhelmed Lincoln with feelings of guilt. How could I have survived that night and the others didn't? I was shot in the head for Christ's sake... I should've known Sal would betray us, should've seen it coming. Shaking his head he lifted his fork and broke off a piece of the festive King Cake, one of his favorite holiday foods. It would be his first year to enjoy it without the presence of his brother Ellis or the laughter of his adoptive father Sammy. For many years they'd celebrated the night together, and it was the closest thing he ever had to a real family gathering.

In the midst of his emotions, the cake was still good to him, and filled him with the yearning for his past life that he'd been reminiscing over. His relief was disturbed by a strong wind, causing his dog tags brush across his chest. This brought him back to the present moment as he looked at his surroundings. People were laughing and dancing, showered in festive beads. He could make out the content in their masked faces, and felt a sense of envy well up deep within his chest. His grasp on his drink tightened, nearly becoming a fist, when a sunflower dropped gently next to his hand.

It caught him by surprise and he looked up to the sight of a woman smiling down at him. "For me?" he asked her. "Yes, you looked like a flower might brighten your day," she gave him a shy smile. His eyes glanced over her figure, pink flared hippie pants, a small top, and a crown of flowers adorning her curly afro. He looked down to see a crate of candles that she had carried with her. "I should get going mister, have a nice evening" she started to shimmy away when Lincoln held out his arm to stop her. "I didn't get a chance to ask you, what's your name Miss?" She replied, "Ebony." "Well Miss Ebony, do you have a moment, for a drink-or some cake?" Ebony looked at a streetside clock noticing that the sun had faded, leaving the sky an orange-ish hue. She frowned, "I don't think-" she turned to look at Lincoln again and watched him turn away. "Well you know, I'm just delivering some candles, I don't think they'd mind if I was a few minutes late."

Ebony sat down at the table with Lincoln and pulled out a red candle, setting it on the table. She rummaged around her crate for a lighter when she heard the familiar clicking sound, as Lincoln had taken out his own and lit the candle. He gave her a faint smile and put the lighter back in his pocket. She felt her heartbeat quicken in pace, as she began to realize how handsome the man sitting in front of her was. The sweet fragrance from the candle filled the air as she took him in, muscular, medium toned, with deep brown eyes. He was definitely attractive, but there was a hint of danger that she took away from his appearance that left her uneasy, yet wanton. I wonder where he got that scar... "So what brings you here tonight," Lincoln asked as he pushed his plate of cake towards Ebony. She took a bite and smiled. "I'm taking some of my candles to a family friend. They've been bothering me for some for months now and I finally decided to make my way to the Hollow" "But what about Mardi Gras," Lincoln asked. "Well, the night is still young. I was planning on meeting with some friends and seeing where things go." "Sounds fun..." Lincoln finished his bourbon and poured himself some more.

She looked to him, "Now tell me more about yourself...I never caught your name?" "Lincoln, Lincoln Clay." Ebony thought the name sounded familiar, but she couldn't place it. "Hm, Lincoln...if you don't mind me asking, what had you so deep in thought when I was passing by?" She looked down not expecting to get a straightforward response, yet too curious not to ask. Looking up, she felt his direct gaze penetrate her. Her cheeks began to warm and she struggled to keep eye contact. Lincoln relaxed his gaze as his eyes drifted to the candle "I was thinking about how I used to spend the holiday. It was a fun night, always festive...but it wasn't just Mardi Gras that made it special, it was the family that I spent it with." Ebony stared at him intently, then nodded. Lincoln sat back again, looking over her expression. His eyes glanced over her neck and exposed shoulders, settling on the groove in her collarbone. The name Ebony really suited her, he thought to himself, as he admired the warm brassy tone of her skin. "Ebony, if you don't mind me asking..." They both exchanged a quick smile, "how long have you been making candles?"

"My grandmother came here from Haiti. She's a maroon. Making things like incense, candles, oils are some of her specialties. I have always been clumsy with my hands but I was able to learn from her. This is one of my favorite fragrances actually." Lincoln watched smoke rise from the candle. "So you're from the bayou," he asked. "Bayou born and raised. The Hollow is great and all but, I'd be lying if I said it was home." Ebony took another look at the clock, and cringed at the amount of time that had passed. "I'm gonna be late." She wiped the cake crumbs off her pants and stood up. "Which way you headed," Lincoln asked. "Um 26th and Bienville St." she responded. "That's a ways away, you walkin?" "Yes, can't wait 'till I get my own wheels," she sighed. Lincoln rubbed his chin, "I could drive you."

Go with him. Ebony felt a sensation pulse through her but snapped out of it quickly. What was she thinking? She barely knew this man but somehow was eager to be in his presence, especially if it meant being alone. "That's alright I'll just be on my way..." She quickly took a few steps and felt herself losing her balance. She hit the ground hard and Lincoln was fast to react, pulling her to her feet. She felt his large calloused palms on her arms and the pulsing sensation returned to her. "Are you ok?" Lincoln asked. "Yea I just," Ebony felt a sharp pain in her knee. Now I'll really have to go with him.. Ebony rubbed the gravel off her scraped knee, "Where's your car?" "Around the corner," Lincoln picked his camo jacket off the arm of the chair and put it on swiftly. In black letters it read 'CLAY' U.S. ARMY SPECIAL FORCES.

Lincoln waited in his car for Ebony to return from dropping off the candles. After she completed the delivery he offered to drop her off at the Bayou as well. By now about an hour has passed and the two have been getting to know each other better.

The engine to Lincoln's black Samson Drifter revved as he turned the key in the ignition. After placing his sunflower on the dashboard, Lincoln gripped the wheel with one hand and drove into the nighttime traffic. He glanced at Ebony in the passenger seat and caught her rolling down the window. As the light turned green and he accelerated, he watched her laugh while the wind blew against her face. She is really something, definitely knows how to have a good time. He chuckled and turned on the radio. "Oooh I love this song!" Ebony exclaimed and started singing the lyrics to The Supremes Baby Love. Her singing is so off tune...but she's got heart. Lincoln just laughed and shook his head, looking out the window.

His smile faded when he saw the billboard above the traffic light. The light turned red and the car rolled to a stop. He couldn't take his eyes off the billboard as it read in bold red letters REMEMBER with an image of none other than Remy Duvall's face. He gritted his teeth as he remembered his confrontation with Remy months before. The look on Remy's face after he ripped off that ghostly white sheet....and his final words to Lincoln, "What now nigger? Huh? What now!" His blood boiled as he recalled when Remy spat in his face right afterwards. He deserved everything he got... "Lincoln, is everything ok?" Ebony looked towards Lincoln concerned, "What are you looking at?" Lincoln continued to stare out at the billboard. "Oh....Mr. Remy Duvall," Ebony said his name in a southern drawl, "Of course I remember that asshole, and his Southern Union radio station. I had always heard he orchestrated the murders of some civil rights activists back in the day but their bodies were never found..."

The light turned green as Lincoln sighed, "Well, at least we don't have to worry about him anymore." "You're damn right we don't, didn't he get bound to a cross and set on fire a few months back?" Ebony's words made Lincoln shift uncomfortably in his seat, but she didn't notice, "Yea I remember readin about it in the news, something crazy like that... The police chief said it was a black man who did it, but I guess they never found him." She shrugged, "Makes no difference to me...somebody needed to stick it to the man," Ebony leaned down in her seat and pulled something out of her crate, "Smoke? You look like you need one." "Is that a cigarette?" Lincoln asked. "Nah this some weed," Ebony replied. Lincoln took the joint in his fingers and held it to his lips, she lit it with her candle lighter. Lincoln inhaled deeply, "Fuuuuccckkkk." Just what I needed. "Pass me some," Lincoln passed the joint to Ebony and she took a hit. She leaned back in the seat and blew circles as she exhaled. Passing the joint to Lincoln she joked, "my special talent." Lincoln grinned and took another hit. I like her.