Number Nine: Chapter 22

MICE AND MEN


FADE IN:

EXT. – KATRINA IN FLORIDA – DAY

Palms bend, cars float, rooftops and debris fly in a hurricane wind. An anonymous voice sings an adaptation of Randy Newman’s LOUISIANA 1927.

President Bush came down in a big airplane
Met a little white man with a notebook in his hand
President say to the little white man: Ain’t it a shame
What the storm has done to this poor jungle land…

Ruby’s voice takes over, singing.

Louisiana, Louisiana
They’re trying to wash us away
They’re trying to wash us away…

Scenes of destruction continue amidst media updates tracking the storm into the Gulf toward New Orleans. Fade slowly to black. We hear the rain like a jackhammer building to a crescendo.

Number nine, Number nine, Number nine…



It was not in Jake’s nature to abandon anyone in a crisis and even if it were, he would not abandon his companions now. They were Monk’s people and they were at risk.

The last time he trusted the Marquis on the Mississippi Queen, he ended up unconscious in a Memphis hotel. He had little choice back then and he no better options now. This was supposed to be a trial run. His intention was to map the layout, scout security measures and observe their reaction to a staged disruption in the streets. His intention was to use their patterns of behavior and exploit their weaknesses. His intentions died with the realization that Pale Louie had spotted him.

He had no choice but to level with the Marquis and hope for the best. Despite their prior exchange or perhaps because of it, there was something about the Marquis that pulled him into his confidence. Jake did not trust many by raw instinct but he wanted to trust the Marquis. Even though he was drugged and planted in a Memphis hotel, it was not a betrayal of trust; it was business. The Marquis made good on his gambling debt and provided the clues he needed to track Ruby down. He had kept his faith with Pale Louie but he had also assisted Jake when he might have dumped him in a black water grave.

It was more than that. It was how the Marquis regarded Ruby – with as much respect and dignity as circumstances allowed. Like all of New Orleans, like Pale Louie himself, the Marquis was in love. Unlike his master, he did not wish to possess the object of his desire; he wished to win her by his manner and his deeds.

Jake quickly explained the situation and laid out a plan. He would return to the concert and take his seat. It was half past the hour. At precisely 9:45, there would be a series of explosions and a great deal of commotion on Burgandy Street. No one would be hurt but several explosives would be placed in sewer lines so it would register in the concert hall.

They were counting on a rush of security to street level and, in the ensuing commotion and panic, Jake would grab Ruby from the stage while the Marquis escorted his companions to the underground passage. They would count on the Marquis to lead them to the surface.

The Marquis did not like to improvise. He had survived in a chaotic and dangerous world by caution and methodical calculation but there was no time for contingencies. Against his better judgment, he agreed and Jake walked calmly back to his table.

He re-entered the hall, whispered instructions to his companions, who played it cool, as if it was understood, as if nothing could surprise them in the sorry world of chaos and disorder, a world of indifference to suffering, a world that dished out trouble more often than not, and a world that was going to get real hard real fast. Outside the rain was pounding like the drumbeat of destiny.

As the clock inched forward toward the moment of deliverance, Ruby began singing the same song he had heard on the streets in the lower ninth ward. She was in her own universe, sheltered and protected, but she was somehow connected to the outside world as if by a spiritual umbilical cord. Ruby sang and most everyone in the hall joined in. They were all connected. They were all one.

Rain come down like a runaway train
Listen to the pouring rain lord
Listen to the pouring rain…

Ruby saw what they saw, felt what they felt and knew what they knew.

Levees gonna break like a shotgun blast
Listen to the pouring rain lord
Listen to the pouring rain

Get out now and get out fast
Listen to the pouring rain
Listen to the pouring rain…

At that moment, as if on cue, an explosion rang out, sounding like it came from within the hall, shattering all sense of order and safety, leaving them a sliver away from total panic and anarchy.

The band stopped playing and Ruby stopped singing, her expression of wonder as if awakening from one dream and entering another where the pieces did not fit.

A large man with a private security badge took the stage and instructed the crowd to remain seated and calm when a volley of explosions, more muted and distant, rang out from above. The man repeated his orders as security personnel ran to hidden stairwells and a first wave of the crowd rushed toward the elevator. Punches thrown, screams, yelling and Jake saw his chance, breaking for the stage as the security chief joined his guards fighting back the mob.

He felt Pale Louie’s focus as he grabbed Ruby by the shoulders and stared into her eyes. She did not recognize him. She did not know who he was. She knew he was someone familiar and warm but she could not place him and she was unwilling to follow him.

“Number nine,” said Jake. “Number nine.”

Ruby remembered knights on white horses, princes in fairy tales and guardian angels. She remembered Jake and let go.

He carried her from the stage and dashed down the aisle, down the hallway and behind the curtain to the passage where he was pleased to find the Marquis and his companions waiting. He asked Ruby if she could walk, holding her as she stood. The Marquis produced a vial and instructed her to sniff. It steadied her and cleared her mind enough to answer “yes.” She could walk. If need be, she could run.

They began walking as fast as Ruby could manage through a maze of dark tunnels, illuminated by a small flashlight the Marquis garnered from the bar. In the distance behind them, they could hear someone yelling and someone pursuing. They quickened their pace, Ruby and Monk’s ladies hiking their skirts and holding their shoes in their hands.

They took a sudden turn and another until it seemed they were backtracking and Jake became wary. He grabbed the Marquis’ shoulder and pulled him close.

“On your honor,” demanded Jake. “Is this the way out?”

The Marquis nodded and Jake believed him. They were circling to lose the hunters who appeared to be closing the distance between them. On a gamble that Louie was not among them, the Marquis led them to a hiding place, a closed space with a false wall concealing its presence, he whispered for them to be silent and they waited until the sound of their pursuers came and went. They waited until they could be sure they were not returning, and then proceeded in another direction to a stairwell that lifted them from the underground into a back alley in the Quarters.

Monk’s women cursed and railed at the stars, the pounding rain and the howling wind. Ruby folded into Jake’s arms, painting his face with a lover’s kisses. The Marquis politely withdrew, descending once again into the underground where he would attempt to cover his trail.

He would now find out who was a better poker player: himself or Pale Louie.

They called Bones and stayed out of sight until the limousine showed and honked twice. The women took turns telling their stories on the ride back to the safe house on Prieur. Ruby fell asleep on Jake’s shoulder while Jake looked into the future.

He was worried: worried that things had not gone as planned, worried that Louie would track them down, worried that Monk and his people were in trouble because of him, and worried that the storm would destroy them all.

The boys were still singing when they reached Prieur Street and several more had joined them with rubber boots and yellow slickers. Ruby awakened and smiled as she heard them sing.

Floodwater trap like a ball and chain
Listen to the pouring rain lord
Listen to the pouring rain

It was too late to get out. The roads were closed off. The trains were not running. Everyone still in New Orleans was here for the long haul, for better or for worse.

No one here going to be the same
Katrina was her name lord
Katrina was her name…

Ruby was feeling fine. She was safe and secure in the arms of her lover, her hero, her guardian angel. Everything was right with the world and dreams really do come true.