James Burke - Half of Paradise

“How is he?” she said.

“Still plastered.”

“Get a plate. You haven’t eaten anything.”

“Can we be together later?” Avery said.

“We’ll have to go somewhere else. Denise is going to be home.”

“Let’s go to the beach.”

“All right. Maybe everyone will leave early.”

“We can rent the beach cabin,” he said.

“Ssssh.” She smiled.

“They can’t hear us. Wally is talking too loud.”

“We’ll have to get him to leave early, too. He’s always the last one to go. He spent the night on our sofa one time.”

“Maybe we can send him home with the painter. They seem to get along well.”

“Excuse me a minute, darling. I have to go upstairs and get some more chickens.”

“I’ll help you.”

“I can do it by myself.”

“I’ll help you, anyway,” he said. She smiled back at him.

They went up the stone steps to the apartment. When they were inside he closed the door behind them. He kissed her on the cheek and mouth in the darkened living room.

“Ummmmm,” she said. “You’re nice.”

She put her arms around his neck and held him close.

“Do you think they would miss us for a few minutes?” he said.

“Oh, darling, wait until tonight.”

“It would only take a few minutes.”

“We can’t. Someone might come in.”

“Let’s stay at the beach house all night, then.”

“Won’t you be too tired to work tomorrow?”

“We probably won’t get to work a full day. It’s supposed to rain.”

“We haven’t gotten a whole night together in a long time. Won’t it be lovely?” she said.

“Do you think the others will go home early?”

“I’ll ask Denise to suggest that everyone go to that cellar place on Burgundy.”

“Will they do it?”

“I think so. It’s one of those sandal and beard places. It’s artistic to be seen there.”

He kissed her on the neck and held her and put his face in her hair. He felt the smoothness of her body against him.

“I want you so much,” she said.

“You’re a precious lady.”

“I love you terribly.”

“Can’t we go in the other room?”

“It will only be a couple of more hours.”

“We haven’t had each other in four days.”

“I know, darling. But it will be so good tonight. Let’s wait.”

He kissed her cheek again and bit the lobe of her ear.

“We have to go back,” she said. “Stay a little longer.”

“I have to cook.”

“Let’s don’t go to any more parties for a while.”

“All right, darling.”

“We’re around other people too much.”

“We won’t go to any more parties unless you want to, and we’ll only see each other.”

“Do you mind not seeing anyone but me?” he said. “Of course I don’t. We have good times together.”

“Don’t go back yet.”

“We have to. Be good and help me carry the food down.”

They went down the stone steps to the courtyard. The light from the Japanese lanterns fell on the oleander and jasmine and Spanish daggers in the flower beds. There was the whisper of silk and petticoats, and the quiet talk of couples in the shadows, and the clink of ice in cool glasses of gin and quinine water. Avery reached his hand down into the tin tub and took out one of the last bottles of beer and opened it. The cap clicked on the flagging of the court. Suzanne stood under the willow by the iron gate to greet some people who had just come in. She came over to Avery.

“We’ll have to get more beer,” she said. “Can you go down to the grocery store?”

“It’s closed now.”

“That place on Esplanade is still open. Go in the car.”

“Where are the keys?”

“Upstairs, I suppose. You don’t mind going, do you? I’d ask Wally, but he’d never come back.”

“When are they going to leave?”

“It won’t be long. I’ll talk with Denise. Be a good darling.”

Avery went upstairs and got the keys and came back down and started out the courtyard.

“Where are you going, old pal?” Wally said.

“To get beer.”

“Is it all right if I go along? That painter has started talking again. I swear to Jesus I can’t tolerate listening to that fellow.”

“I’m only going to be gone a few minutes.”

“Maybe he will have left when we get back. If he’s still here I think I’m going to hit him.”

“You’d better come with me.”

“Rather. I’m not keen on getting into a bash with such a disgusting fellow.”

They went around the side of the building to the cobbled alley where the car was parked. Avery started the engine and drove out onto the street with the convertible top down and pressed on the accelerator. The exhaust roared against the pavement and echoed off the quiet buildings. The car, low-slung and flat with a wide wheelbase, could turn a corner with a slight twist of the steering wheel.

You couldn’t use all the gears except on the highway; and when he pushed down on the gas he felt the power pull him back in the leather seat. They went to the grocery store on Esplanade and bought a half case of beer. They put it on the front seat between them. Wally opened one of the warm beers on the bumper of the car by putting the cap against the metal edge and knocking it down with the palm of his hand until it popped loose. The beer foamed up over the front of his coat. He upended the bottle and drank fast, his throat working, to avoid spilling any more. Avery put the car into gear and pulled away from the curb and made a right turn into the Quarter.

“One-way street,” Wally said.

Avery stepped on the brake and put the car in reverse. He backed into a driveway to turn around. The exhaust throbbed against the stucco wall of the building. An automobile was coming down the street towards them. Avery waited for it to pass before he pulled out. It stopped in front of them and blocked the driveway. The headlights went out, and Avery saw the city police emblem on the door. He could hear the police calls coming over the mobile radio inside. The officer got out and walked towards them. He had a flashlight in his hand.

“Put the beer under the seat,” Avery said.

“There’s no room.”

“Cover it with your coat.”

Too late, old pal.”

The officer shone the large three-battery flashlight at them and into the car. The bottles were amber in the light. The officer was young and looked as though he hadn’t been on the police force long. He wore a tight, well-fitting light blue shirt and dark blue trousers with a black stripe down the side. He had a pistol and holster on his hip and a thick leather belt with the.45 cartridges protruding through the loops and handcuffs in a black leather case and a short billy with a spring and a lead weight in it. He was tall with dark hair and athletic features. There was a pair of sunglasses in his shirt pocket.

“Do you know this is a one-way street?” he said.

“I didn’t see the sign,” Avery said.

The officer shined the light on the bottles.

“Have you been drinking?”

“Not in the car.”

“Let me see your driver’s license, please.”

Avery took out his billfold and opened the celluloid viewers.

“Take it out of the wallet, please.”

Avery gave it to him. The officer looked at it under the flashlight.

“This expired last year, Broussard.”

“I didn’t look at the date on it.”

“I say, I’m the only one drinking, officer. This fellow is quite all right,” Wally said.

“You’ll have to come down to the station with me.”

“I’m not drunk,” Avery said.

“You have liquor in your possession and you’ve been drinking.”