"Hmmm, po'boys," Xena said for the hundredth time since we'd been in Naw'leens. We were downtown again today, Saturday, again for the hundredth time since Christmas. We just left a gallery about blue dogs and Xena said it was time to eat.
"Po'boys with 'dads and a cola," she said to woman in the corner store. "Put a little of that naw'leens hot sauce, will ya honey?" She directed the lady behind the counter. The lady obliged and looked at me.
"How about you, sugar?"
"Meatball po'boy and a cola," I answered. Xena never seemed to get tired of the sandwiches. I didn't mind. Whatever she wanted was fine with me. The lady gave us the po'boys and drinks.
"Come on surrga," Xena drawled. We went to a table by the window where we could watch the tourists.
We'd been in New Orleans since the end of December. Ever since Xena accidentally saw the Saints on TV and had to come down and watch the footballers in person. We were in the stands for their playoff game. Maybe you noticed Xena, she'd been dressed up like a nun/saint/hooker. The guys in the stands made outrageous suggestions throughout the game towards her. She thoroughly enjoyed giving back as much as she took. She still wore the necklaces everyday.
"I think that I was reincarnated here once," she said and took a bite of her sandwich.
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Reincarnated Sparrows in New Orleans
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"Reborn?" I asked.
"Yep, honey, I was a dancer in early jazz houses."
"A dancer?"
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Reincarnated New Orleans Dancers with Sparrow
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"Yep, of course, I was horribly abused and died tragically young, only.....17."
"Just a little older than we are now."
"Another year and a half," she said through the mouthful of food.
"Will that repeat again?" I asked. I didn't know how these things worked. Xena was the reader of all the different New Orleans authors.
"It could," her eyes got a little bigger. She looked out the window up and down the street. "It could."
She had talked about the new Lama that was found somewhere in the northern states lately. It was in the city paper this morning. About a five year old boy who was reincarnated a lama. Xena was fascinated.
We had come down through Dallas, Houston, and along the coast to New Orleans just after Christmas. It had only taken Xena a couple of hours to connect with the city and find a little apartment downtown where they were many thousand dollars a month. I don't think she paid anything when we moved in. Don't ask, she said, as usual. The owner/manager gave us the key and said we could stay as long as the woman wanted. He wouldn't look Xena straight on and talked mostly to me. Xena does that to some people. A couple of teachers back at the high school wouldn't look at her either, plus a couple of jock type guys.
The first week we played regular tourist and took the trolley car up and down the city. We took tours around the city and up and down the river. She had especially liked the occult tours. We must of hit the graveyards a dozen times. After a month Xena could probably draw a map of the city that would rival anything the chamber of commerce could put out.
"Come on sugar," she said and grabbed my hand and pulled me out to the street. "Time to light a candle." She'd really liked the cathedral at the bottom of the quarter. Although I don't think she was ever a catholic, but she'd taken to the local church customs and went to "mass", as she called it, every day. She got a kick out of going to confession in these little rooms at the back of the different churches. I don't know what she confessed but she came out and kneeled in the pews and crossed herself numerous times as she kneeled and prayed. She also went to "communion" everyday and drug me to the altar with her when she went up to the railing.
I told her she was going to hell for pretending to be a catholic but she smiled and said god, "she" wouldn't let her go to hell, even if it really existed, which she didn't think it did, and anyway "she" loved everyone, even zombies and reincarnated witches.
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New Orleans Girl with Sparrows
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After Christmas she came back from a walk around the neighborhood, back in Kansas, and announced a new plan.
"Now! Now. Let's go. We need to leave. Go. Today. Now. Get up."
"Now?" I was slow.
"Now!" She was pulling bags out of the closet, pulling open drawers and emptying the contents in her bags, my stuff along with hers. "Now," she whispered to herself and got another bag and dumped everything in the bathroom into it. "Now," she opened the frig and took out whatever food she could safely put into a plastic sack.
"Now," she looked at me again. I wasn't moving fast enough for her. I therefore grabbed books and computers and everything electronic from the living area. In ten minutes she took what she had packed out to the van and come back and grabbed more stuff out of my hands.
"Now," she said and rushed out the door to the van. I went to Xena's bed and stripped in and then did the same to mine. In another ten minutes we were backing out of the drive.
"Where?" I asked.
"Voodooland."
"Huh?"
"Let's go and watch Brees play football."
Ah! New Orleans. She'd been fascinated by New Orleans for the past month, even buying a magazine with all the sports events.
Mardi Gras.
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