The Marigny Keepers

Chapter 5

Andy, as it turned out, was renting an apartment on Dauphine Street in The Quarter with four other classmates of his from the University of New Orleans. He was majoring in construction management, which Alene was ashamed to admit sounded extremely boring to her, until he began talking about his passion for restoring old houses in Louisiana using green technology and sustainable materials. He talked about the future of architecture and urban planning with such zeal that Alene almost found him attractive.

Almost.

He did, at least for an hour, take her mind off of the dark matters of pirates and sunken ships while he insisted that they have breakfast at the Camellia Grill. While Alene was in a hurry to rush down to the Confederate Museum, her stomach was already beginning to growl for more than the banana she had eaten earlier in the day.

“What kind of a history project gets a girl out of bed early on a Friday morning?” he asked after their waiter had taken their order for omelets with chili.  “And on her only day off?”

“One that involves historical artifacts that might put a girl through college,” Alene said, not really wanting to disclose to Andy more about the coins or how she came to own them.

“Now that sounds interesting,” Andy said, genuinely intrigued.

Luckily, Andy didn’t press further.

As it turned out, Andy had grown up in Slidell, just an hour’s drive over the bridge on Lake Pontchartrain. His father worked in construction, hence Andy’s interest in carrying on the family business, and Alene was ashamed of herself when her heart beat a little faster at his mention of owning a pick-up truck.

A pick-up truck would be an easier way to get to the library to research pirates than taking the street trolley, which was not air conditioned in the unbearably hot New Orleans summer heat. It was also Alene’s best shot at ever making it to a bayou without renting a car, and she knew she wasn’t old enough to do that. Even though she had no immediate reason to search the backwaters of New Orleans for more information about Perrin’s background, she had a growing inclination toward believing that finding out more about him was going to require an excursion to the bayou at some point.

“So what do ya’ll have planned for the rest of the day?” Andy drawled.

“I don’t know,” Alene lied casually. “I was thinking about heading over to the public library at Loyola to do more research.”

Andy looked disappointed and insisted on paying the check for breakfast.

“Any chance at all I could tempt you into seeing a movie with me this afternoon?” he asked once they stepped back out into the street.  “It’s going to be a scorcher today. They’re saying one hundred and six degrees.”

Alene waffled. An hour earlier she had been hellbent on getting to that library as fast as possible. It had seemed dire and urgent that she find out about Perrin’s history immediately. But after breakfast with easy-going Andy, a dark sense had started growing in the pit of her stomach about Perrin. Thinking about going to the library made her nervous rather than excited. She was inclined to accept Andy’s invitation and spend the afternoon in the deep chill of the movie theater, eating popcorn and laughing at some dumb romantic comedy.

“Come on,” Andy egged her on, seeing that she was considering his offer. “There’s a new Adam Sandler comedy out. I’ve heard it’s terrible. I can’t wait to see it.”

Alene laughed. He was pretty cute, this Andy from Slidell. Definitely not a guy who could tell a Monet from a Renoir. But cute nonetheless.

“I don’t know,” Alene said.

Just then, in the back of her mind, Perrin’s words returned to her as clear as day, as if he were whispering them in her ear at that very moment.