Danielle's Halloween

Here's a fun treat. This is a prequel of sorts to the yet unpublished third book in The Body Hunters series. Call it a Halloween treat! Enjoy!
 “I promise honey, this is going to be the best Halloween/Slumber/Birthday party ever.” Danny’s mother, Julianna happily announced as she hung the Happy Birthday banner.

The Labouleaux family’s living room had been set up as party central with everything a six year old little girl could want at their party; every six year old girl except Danielle Labouleaux. Danielle or Danny as she preferred did not understand the need for all the hoopla surrounding her birthday. She’d practically begged her mother not to invite any of girls in Danny’s first grade class other than her two best friends.

“Not it’s not!” Danny protested. “The other girls in my class hate me.”

Julianna beamed a smile down on the daughter who was her spitting image, except for her golden eyes and golden complexion which was inherited from her father. “Honey, they don’t hate you. They just haven’t taken the time to get to know you. That’s what this party is about; getting to know your classmates and making friends.”

“Whatever.” Seeing that her mother still wasn’t listening to her, Danny stalked off in search of the candy she’d been forbidden to eat.

Danny was different, she knew that. First and foremost, she was psychic, able to communicate with ‘ghosties’ as her Grandmere called them. That fact was a secret that only she and Grandmere shared. Her grandmother warned that Danny would become a powerful psychic, because she was chosen to be born on November 1^st, or what was called The Day of the Dead. The Day of the Dead was when the veil being the living world and the spirit realm was lifted. On that day, Danny would be a beacon for those ghosts who craved attention and wanted to pester her with their selfish requests. As she got older, the ghosts’ would be more and more demanding for her attention.

Danny also had a stronger connection to the spirit realm than most psychics, even those born on November 1st. Just a few months ago, she underwent emergency surgery to correct a heart defect. While she was on the operating table, the doctors lost Danny for several minutes before they were able to revive her. This phenomenon deepened her connection to the spirit plane.

Unlike the kids at the school whose parents were either both white or both black, Danny’s father was black and her mother was white.  She first noticed that her parents were different during Open House when the school year first started. Though her parents didn’t seem to be aware of it, Danny saw the stares and the whispers from the other parents. She put it in the back of her mind, until the kids in her class started to tease her about her parents, calling her an Oreo.

After punching her classmate Jasmine’s lights out on the playground, Danny went home with the question of why they would call her a cookie. Her father, Marcel Labouleaux lovingly pulled her into his lap as he and her mother told her the fairy tale of how she came into being.

They explained how her mother, the beautiful, violet eyed princess, defied the wishes of her rich family and eloped with the handsome Creole man she’d fallen in love with. Much to the young couple’s delight, Julianna had a bun in the oven. When Danny asked how her mother got the bun in the oven, Marcel quickly changed the subject, recommending that she not get into any more fights.

“It’s getting late, Danny. Go upstairs and put on your costume.” Her mother advised. “Your guests will be arriving soon.”

“But mom!” Danny protested.

“Do what your mom said.” Marcel commanded in his booming voice, just walking in from the market with refreshments for their overnight guests.

Rolling her eyes, Danny made a point of stomping up the stairs as loudly as possible. She’d be glad when this night was over.

The costume she’d picked out was draped across her bed. It’d been a knockdown drag out brawl, but Julianna finally relented and let Danny pick out her own costume.

No frilly pink princess costume for Danielle Labouleaux. She knew that she wanted to be a superhero, but not Wonder Woman or Supergirl like the girls in her class. Danny wanted to be a superhero that looked like her, so she showed her mother of picture of Storm from the X-men cartoon.

Proud of her selection, Danny put the white wig over her dark hair and hopped into the black jumpsuit with the matching cape. Liking what she saw in the mirror, she started hopping on her bed, the black cape billowing around her.

“Danielle! Your guests are starting to arrive!” Julianna called from downstairs.

Exhaling sharply, Danny slowly descended the staircase, meeting the familiar and friendly faces of her friends, Emma and Felicia. Emma was a white girl with dark brown hair pulled into pigtails. Felicia was a black girl with freckles and braids. Emma’s costume was a bloody zombie princess, while Felicia was disguised as a glamour girl, with a tiara and feather boa.

They squealed and giggled like little girls do, frolicking through the house. The three best friends played to their heart’s content, until the five invited girls from their class started to file in with their blankets and sleeping bags. Fresh from an evening of trick or treating, they were still in costume.

Julianna, ever the gracious hostess whether the guest were young or old, had plenty of Halloween treats and activities planned for the girls. The party went well, with Danny’s classmates enthusiastic about the Halloween games. The girls’ nastiness toward Danny was temporarily forgotten as they stuffed their faces, danced to silly songs and competed for Halloween themed prizes.

After the festivities were over, the living room was set up as the girls’ campsite with an assortment of kid friendly Halloween movies playing on the television. The girls changed out of their costumes and into their pajamas.

Tammy, the alpha dog of Danny’s tormentors at school pointed at her as she buttoned the top of her pajamas.

“Look! The Oreo is about to turn into Frankenstein!” Tammy’s horde of flunkies giggled as Danny hastily finished buttoning her top.

The zipper scar that bisected her chest was what remained after Danny’s life saving surgery. Getting teased about it was almost a daily ritual at school. She’d been following her father and Grandmere’s advice about using her words, not her fists, but she was nearing a breaking point.

“Leave me alone!” Danny shouted back.

“Oh, Frankenstein gonna cry.” Tammy mocked, bringing her balled up fists to her eyes. “Wah, wah, wah. Crybaby! Are the Oreo’s tears made of cream filling?”

The other girls laughed at the amateur comedienne.

“I said knock it off!” The infamous Labouleaux temper was ready to break free.

 “Oreo! Oreo! Oreo!” The girls in Tammy’s clique chanted.

“How about you take your heart out so we can see it, Frankenstein?” Tammy jabbed again with her sharp words and her pointy finger into Danny’s chest.

She pounced on Tammy like a jungle cat. The assault took the bully by surprise as Danny pummeled her from one end of the living room to the other. The pink Barbie play tent Marcel had erected so the girls could pretend they were camping collapsed under the weight of the grappling duo. The other girls screamed trying to get out of the way for fear of being the next victim of Danny’s fury.

Having heard the girls chanting ‘Oreo’, Marcel and Julianna were already on the way to the living room, knowing there was trouble. Expecting to find their daughter outnumbered and in need of a rescue, they were stunned to find her holding her own.

“Take it back.” Danny growled, slapping Tammy’s reddened cheeks.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry I called you an Oreo!” Tammy wailed.

Despite his urging his daughter not to fight, Marcel felt a little fatherly pride that she’d given the bully exactly what she was looking for. He pulled Danny off Tammy and into his arms.

“Enough, Danny, enough.”

“I tried to use my words, but I couldn’t help it.” She sobbed, tears falling on his neck. “They wouldn’t stop calling me names.”

“I know, sweetie, Daddy knows.”

Julianna turned her motherly rage on the five instigators. “Is this how your parents taught you to behave? You come to Danny’s house, eat her food, play her games, and you mistreat her? What kind of spoiled brats are you?”

Danny’s enemies flinched under Julianna’s glare, muttering apologies.

Danny was still clinging to Marcel’s neck. “I’m about to start calling their parents because I’m about one minute from whupping their behinds myself.”

One after another, Marcel called the parents, pulling no punches about their children’s racially charged behavior.  Upon their arrival, some of the parents tried to defend their children’s antics, blaming Danny, but Felicia and Emma were there to provide their eyewitness account of events. The parents then went from defensive to super apologetic.

“You know racism is learned in the home. It’s a shame that kids pick that up from their parents.” Marcel remarked dryly to one mortified mother, who hastily dragged her towheaded daughter out the door.

“So I guess the next thing is to wake up with a cross burning on my lawn.” He matter-of-factly stated to a humiliated couple as they whisked their daughter away.

“Give me that candy!” Marcel snatched a bag of treats from one girl on her way out the door with her shame faced mother.

After the antagonists were gone, Marcel left to take Emma and Felicia home. He’d already called their parents, who expressed concern for Danny. Marcel thanked them for their worries and let them know he’d be dropping the girls off shortly. Before leaving, they gave Danny a supportive hug.

“Are you mad at me, mama?” Danny asked as Julianna tucked her into bed.

“Mad at you? Why would I be mad at you?”

“I ruined the party.”

Julianna sighed, sitting beside her on the bed. “I’m not mad at you. Who I’m mad at are those atrocious little snots and their equally atrocious parents!”

Danny giggled at her mother’s version of harsh language.

“I can never be mad at you, my love. Now go to sleep, sweet dreams.” Julianna kissed her on the forehead.

“That’s horrible.” Cassie cried out as Danny continued her tale.

It was over twenty years after that fateful birthday and the two best friends were sitting across the kitchen table from each other. It felt like a lifetime had passed since then, Danny’s parents and her Grandmere lost to her over the years. The now adult Danny went to the coffeemaker for the carafe and refilled their mugs.

“Dad was pissed. He was so aggravated with the situation that he joined the PTA.”

“Why would he join the PTA? What would that have to do with anything?” Cassie flipped her blond hair over her shoulder.

“He joined the PTA so he could have an excuse to see those girls’ parents every few weeks.” She laughed. “My dad was very ornery and he couldn’t resist an opportunity to make those parents feel even worse.”

Cassie joined in the laughter. “What about Tammy and her goons?”

“I never had problems with bullies after that. They didn’t even cause me any problems in high school, so I guess they learned their lesson.”

“I know I learned mine.” Cassie and Danny weren’t always friends in fact they started off as bitter enemies. Having been the recipient of a Danielle Labouleaux beat down, she didn’t blame the bullies for not bothering her again.

“You know I’m still sorry about that.” Danny said remorsefully.

“I don’t know why. I was acting like a stuck up biotch and I deserved it.” Cassie acknowledged. “I still don’t understand why you don’t want to have a birthday party. So what if you had to beat up Tammy?”

“Like I said my birthday being on The Day of the Dead leaves me vulnerable. After that ruckus during the slumber party, I fell asleep and woke up to dozens of ghosts reaching out to me.”

“Yikes!”

“Exactly. Dealing with my gift is hard sometimes, even as an adult; imagine turning seven years old and having ghosts fighting for your attention. I woke up screaming and luckily Grandmere was there to calm me down. On my birthday, spirits are drawn to my raw emotions, so she taught me a few exercises to keep them at bay.”

“Danny, I’m so sorry your birthday is so traumatic.”

“It’s no big deal. Now you know why I don’t celebrate my birthday. It’s just too much drama and too much of a hassle. So don’t bother planning a birthday party for me. I’ll be just fine.”

“When was the last time you actually celebrated your birthday?” Cassie asked out of curiosity.

Danny shrugged. “It was the year before Grandmere died.”

Cassie was horrified. Danny’s grandmother had been gone for close to ten years.

She watched as her friend dumped the contents of her mug into the sink and left the kitchen. Visions of streamers, balloons, and birthday wishes took root in Cassie’s mind, despite her friend’s protests. She was going to give Danny a birthday extravaganza whether she liked it or not. She just needed a partner in crime and she knew just the man to help her.

Multiculturalism in dogs

Does my Labrador Retriever know that he is? do my Chihuahua's know that they are just that?  At what point do we go from being proud of our culture and ethnicity to ethnocentrism? That we devalue all others and exclude people and other ways of life.
The line is fine and easily crossed. Those of us who are blessed enough to live in melting pot areas of the country like I am, that can find Arabic bakeries and Asian markets along with Polish and Italian meat markets, Soul food restaurants, Mexican restaurants, Indian food and everything in between (My taste buds should never get bored) have an opportunity to enjoy many cultures without ever having to get on a plane. Now you would think that with all these ethnicities I live in a utopia where everyone gets along. Yeah, no! I have heard phrases like 'marry your own culture' and witnessed people who will not talk to you because even though they are living in the land of a really humongous statue that says 'Bring me your huddled masses', huddle only with their own. Birds of a feather.......
My Labrador is yellow and weighs 80 pounds. He is a retired Guide Dog for the Blind. He is smart, playful and loves to...you guessed it....retrieve. He still tries to Guide on occasion forgetting that he is retired and I am not blind. So I wonder what is his culture? Guiding was taught to him so that is not part of his culture, that was his job. Maybe  retrieving, killing and destroying toys is part of his true culture. (hover your mouse over the pictures)

Brooks the ex-Guide dog toy destroyer

My Chihuahua's were there first and Brooks had to adjust to their way of life, much like the Chi's had to adjust to feline culture when they arrived. The Turkish Angora's (Yes we are a multiracial feline/canine household) showed the then 1lb puppies the ropes and how things were done in their feline Arab American household. They grew up speaking cat and had an overwhelming love of them even though cat was not in their DNA.

Cat culture

Brooks never got a chance to learn the ancient and honorable feline culture from the elder statesmen of the feline tribe since all the cats have passed on, but the Chi's have done their best to educate and depart the time-honored feline knowledge and culture of their feline Arab American brothers and sisters to him. Sleeping anywhere he pleases is one of his favorite adopted cat culture activities he's learned.
Now Chihuahua's it's been rumored are not descendants of wolves but from Fennec foxes from Mexico. An interesting theory because that would mean over the many years Chihuahua's have been human's pocket companions we have been forcing a domestic canine culture and silly clothes on a native desert animal. Sound familiar in human history? Do my Chi's tolerate domesticated wolf culture, sparkly shirts that say grrrl power or tuxedo t-shirts for the boy Chi, or do they pine for the desert life of their ancestral homeland? That would explain the burrowing in blankets and sunning themselves in 90 degree temps while their much larger canine companion enjoys air conditioning. Labs are after all from Newfoundland not as the name might imply Labrador, where colder temps are normal.

Psst! We're actually foxes!

Yo no soy un perro! (I am not a dog!)

My 4 legged household companions can teach us all a lesson in diversity and getting along. Enjoying and learning from each other's differences and recognizing that we all share in one universal culture, human culture. We all want ultimately the same things, family, faith, love, a nice place to live and enough to eat, a bright future for our children and to be able to carry on our legacy through them, plus small dogs to dress up. Be proud of who you are and the heritage you came from, take the positive lessons of your ancestors and the good things of your culture and move them forward, share them with others and enjoy the diversity and history of another. Mix it up a little, I'm a firm believer in once you learn about it, you end up respecting it and your world is a richer place for it.
Then again maybe I'm being Pollyanna. (an excessively or blindly optimistic person.)

Part of Chihuahua culture is staring, giving off subliminal messages till you give up the coveted object. Something they learned from their feline Arab American upbringing.

Aloha Nani

 

Please enjoy another short story on our heroine from The Body Hunters and The Body Hunters: Paradise Denied.

The Body Hunters by Raven Newcastle http://www.amazon.com/dp/B009X971ME/ref=cm_sw_r_tw_dp_N6xQrb13R6TGQ … …

The Body Hunters: Paradise Denied by Raven Newcastle http://www.amazon.com/dp/B00CODG81Q/ref=cm_sw_r_tw_dp_r7xQrb0RWBN1N … … the fun continues in the sequel.

 

 

“Mama, I don’t want to go!” A pouting ten year old Danny informed her mother under no uncertain terms was she going to the sports exhibition expo in New Orleans. She threw herself on her bed tossing a throw pillow across the room.

Julianna Labouleaux rubbed her temples with her delicate fingers. “Danielle, may I remind you that you are the one who wanted to play soccer? “

“To play not be stared at like I’m some freakazoid!”

“Darling, you should be proud, you are the only girl on the team and the best goalie they have. Your coach just wants to show you off a bit. How about you do it for your team honey?”

Danny hated to be the center of attention and hated being told what to do even more.  Rolling her eyes and folding her arms across her chest was her international sign for ‘I don’t care what you think, I’m not doing it.’ 

Julianna sighed in defeat. “Darling it’s up to you, but right now I have to pack.”

“Are you leaving again mama?” Danny looked up at her mother’s violet eyes feeling a bit hurt.

Pain overtook Julianna’s heart, squeezing every last ounce of guilt out of her. “It’s just for a few days.” She looked away from her daughter’s silently pleading eyes.

“Is Daddy going with you?”

Julianna took her child’s face in her hands. “Not this time honey, he’ll be home and your Grandmere says she’s taking you to the zoo. I’ll try my best to be home to see you compete at the exhibition, that is of course if you decide to participate.”

“That’s what you said the last time you signed me up for ballet lessons and then didn’t show up for my recital!” Danny barked pushing her mother’s hands away from her face.

“Danielle!” A loud booming voice reverberated in her room, the imposing figure of her father, Marcel stood in the doorway.

Julianna hurriedly walked over to Marcel placing a soft hand on his chest to calm him.

“Marc it’s alright, she’s just a little upset and you can’t blame her.”  Her light touch always did the trick. “Please talk to her about the exhibition, her coach has already signed her up.” She gave him a quick kiss on his lips as she left Danny’s bedroom.

Marcel plopped himself down next to Danny on her bed. Her golden brown skin and eyes matched his and the emotions she held behind her eyes contained a lot of awe and a smidge of fear of him. He put his strong arm around her. “Danny, please be more respectful of your mother, she doesn’t want to leave you.”

“Then why is she going again?” Danny didn’t know whether to scream or cry.

Marcel hugged her close. “You know sometimes she has to go away and help her family.”

“She says you’re not going this time. Are you really staying home?”

“Yes but I have to work so your Grandmere will watch you and take you to soccer practice.”

“And the zoo?” She asked as she crawled into her dad’s lap.

“Yes baby girl and the zoo. But only if you do the exhibition.”

The only thing Danny loved more than being in Grandmere’s restaurant reveling in the delicious smells and excitement of the busy kitchen was the zoo. Taking pictures of the animals was her favorite hobby since she could look at them over and over without being dragged into the spirit realm dealing with the 'ghosties', as she and Grandmere put it.

She had in fact had several of her animal pictures blown up and plastered all over her walls since, as she discovered, any pictures of humans could transport her at anytime to relive past memories or visit with the deceased. Like her grandmere, Danny was blessed with psychic skills.

“Isn’t that bribing daddy? Didn’t you say to bribe someone was a crime? Like that case you were working on with Uncle Ryan?” Uncle Ryan to Danny was her father’s FBI partner for the last six years.

Marcel nodded his head. “Yes, you’re right baby girl, but I would really like it if you did the exhibition, it’ll be fun and I’ll get to take lots of pictures and brag on you.” He kissed the top of her head.

“Mama says she’ll be there, do you think she will? She tells me that all the time and then never shows up.”

“I’ll tell you what, what do we do when you make us a promise and don’t keep it?”

Danny pondered for a moment resting her head on his chest. “I get grounded and you take my TV away.”

“Ok, so if mama doesn’t show when she promised then you get to ground her and she has to watch cartoons with you all day.”

“And eat any kind of ice cream I want?”  She asked her bright eyes wide with delight.

Marcel laughed. “Yes and any ice cream you’d like.”

 

 “You really shouldn’t promise her things like that Marc.” Julianna advised as she brushed her long raven colored hair at her vanity mirror.

Marcel stared at his wife's reflection in her mirror, His own eyes looking heavy and weary.

“Honey, what am I supposed to say to her? Just promise me you’ll do your best to be home for her competition you know she craves your attention.”

Julianna dropped her brush on the table and lowered her head covering her misty violet eyes with her hair. She knew he hated to see her cry, but she wasn’t fooling him. Lifting her up off her chair he held her close nuzzling her neck.

“I want to be there, you know that but you know that every time there is a chance that something can go wrong.” She cried.

He did his best to console her “Julie, you are the best at what you do so don’t talk like that; someday this will all be over.”

“Someday, someday feels like a long way off. When she’s an adult we will have to tell her the truth, I can’t imagine what that conversation is going to be like.”

Marcel took her head in his hands. “Like you said that’s a long way off; let’s not worry about it tonight.” He kissed her deeply as she melted into his arms.

“Lose these!” She whispered in his ear tugging at his shorts.

Marcel smiled. “Yes ma’am!”

 Danny tiptoed back to her room confident mom and dad hadn't seen her, crawling back into her bed she hugged her big teddy bear that Marcel had won for her at a local summer fair. She fell asleep wondering what her mother meant by ‘possibly go wrong’.

 “Cher? Come now we have to get to the field, you’re up soon.” Grandmere Marie grabbed Danny’s hand leading her to her coach.

“I'm OK grandmere you go sit with daddy. Make sure he takes plenty of pictures for mama.”

“OK, you don’t be nervous. Just do your best sweetheart.” The older woman gave her a kiss and left for the sideline of the soccer field.

The New Orleans Sports Expo was a big event and school teams from all over the U.S were invited to compete for championship titles in various sports in all age groups. Danny was in the ten and under soccer division. She held the awe of her coach Duncan Stewart, a stout Scotsman with a heavy accent. He had tried in vain to tell her it was a brogue not an accent, but as he told her, as long as she could keep goal like that, then she could call it whatever she wanted. 

Danny hated to admit it but the ballet lessons her mother forced her to take actually paid off making her light and fast on her feet. She had even won the respect and admiration of the boys on the team after being placed with them when there were no openings left in the girls division. Marcel had demanded that his little girl be given the right to play. The sports director just figured she’d give up and quit against the boys when it got too rough, but  coach Duncan Stewart found out better the first time she dove for a block.

“Wait here lass.” Duncan ordered as he went to see when her turn was up.

Several young rowdy teenage boys caught Danny’s attention chanting in the corridor saying words that were foreign to her and stomping on the ground beating their chests. Danny walked over to the boys to watch the display closer.

"Aloha!" a few of the boys called out to her.

"What does that mean?" she asked in her shy southern tone.

One of the tall boys answered her. "It means hello."

“What were you doing?" She asked of the group.

One of the teens, a tall muscular young man with a skin tone that almost matched hers came forward. “It’s a war chant, we do it before all our games, Shorty.“

“I’ve never heard anything like it before. Do you play soccer?” She asked mesmerized by his blue eyes that were partially being covered by his long dark hair.

“Shorty we play a real game, rugby.”

Danny was offended. “Soccer’s real!“

The big teenager laughed kneeling down to her. “Do you even know what rugby is shorty?”

“Well, no.”

“It’s like football but much tougher. Grrrrr.” He growled at her as he made a face squinting his eyes and sticking out his tongue, putting his hands up to look like bear claws. She took a cautious step back. A worried look crossed his face. "I'm sorry shorty did I scare you?

“No!” She said in a small voice, but in truth the big teenager did scare her.

“What are you here for Shorty?” he asked.

“My name is Danielle not Shorty and I’m in a goalie competition; it’s between me and another boy to see who can keep the most soccer balls out of the goal and i'm going to win." 

“You against a boy? No offense, but a little Nani like you doesn’t stand a chance. You’re a skinny little string bean. Did you lose your front teeth to a soccer ball?” 

Danny instinctively covered her mouth feeling embarrassed.

“No, they just fell out! And I am just as good as any boy! You don’t have to be such a jerk! At least I don’t have a caterpillar growing on my face!”  She pinched his arm hard.

“Ow, damn Shorty that hurt!” He bellowed.

Uproarious laughter and the sharp sound of thigh slapping from his teammates ensued as he stood up to yell at them. “Shut up okole pukas!”

“Hey I think she likes you! better watch out that Kailani doesn't see you with her, she'll be jealous brah!” His buddy chided.

Another teammate chimed in. “You should dump Kailani for this feisty little one, looks like she can keep you in line Brah!”

The big teenager with the blue eyes saluted his teammates with his middle finger.

“Danielle you’re up lass!” Duncan Stewart motioned for her to come towards the field. Danny started to run to her coach.

“Hey little Nani, hang loose and good luck!” The big teenager with the blue eyes held up his hand like a fist with only his thumb and pinky fingers up.

Danny mimicked the gesture as the big teen smiled back at her.

 

 “It’s a nice trophy Danny.” Julianna said as her daughter slid into bed.

“Were you there for all of it?” Danny asked hugging her teddy bear.

Julianna smiled at her. “Most of it, I’m so proud of you sweetheart!”

“I’m glad you were able to make it mama, I was afraid you wouldn’t show at all. I guess this means you don't have eat ice cream and watch cartoons with me.” Danny sighed disappointedly.

Julianna kissed her forehead. “I don’t know about that, I think that sounds like fun. Maybe we can do each other’s hair and paint our toes too?”

“Ugh!” Was all Danny could muster at the thought of her mother suggesting girly activities. “Mama, what does this mean?” She showed her the gesture the young teenager had made with his hands.

“It’s Hawaiian; it means take it easy I think, where did you learn that?”

“A boy. What does okole puka mean?”

Julianna gave her a disapproving frown. “Did you hear that from that boy too?” Danny nodded. “Never you mind what it means.”

“What about Nani? Is that bad too?”

Julianna brushed Danny’s hair back from her face. “I think it means pretty. Sounds like you got a boyfriend at that competition.” Julianna teased.

“Ugh no mama he’s old!”

Julianna laughed. “Old! How old?”

“Not like you and daddy old, but like one of those teenagers grandmere complains about that work in the restaurant. He called me little Nani.”

“I don't know, sounds you like him! We're not going to have to plan a wedding are we?" She teased.

Danny giggled at mother’s comment. "No mama!"   

"Good because I don't think your daddy is ready for you to get married just yet." Julianna brought her blanket up to her chest and tucked her in. She gave her a kiss and turned out her side table lamp. “Goodnight darling.”  

 

 Danny opened her eyes shaking off the chill in her body and cobweb’s in her brain. It was the same after every visit to the spirit realm. She dropped the high school team photo of a bunch of muscular teenage boys in their team jerseys holding a very large trophy. She had pulled the photo out of a box in the basement mislabeled ‘kitchen stuff’. Photographs were her psychic gateway into the spirit realm.

She had been sorting the final boxes in storage since moving into the Savannah home almost a year ago not realizing the box she opened was not her own. She fingered the photograph a moment longer resting her finger near a familiar face. Putting the picture aside she dug back into the box and pulled out a red jersey that had a silhouetted tropical floral pattern in the background and Polynesian tribal markings that ran down along the left side. On the back of the shirt was the name STONE with the number 25.  

Oh my God! She thought to herself, no freaking way! She held the jersey close to her chest. Searching again inside the box she found his class ring and a picture of him, his father Joseph Stone and his mother Anna Stone smiling as they all three held a large trophy together. Aiden's father was native Hawaiian and it was clear from the photo that he took after his father in his physique and his naturally exotic but rugged good looks. He also shared many of his mother’s African American and Irish features, none more than her ocean blue eyes that glowed almost luminescent from the picture in the filtered basement light. They seemed to be staring into Danny's soul. A soft female voice entered her thoughts. Sometimes we have to look to the past to see our future. She was startled by the voice realizing it wasn’t her own. She looked down at the t-shirt she was wearing, a favorite one she had worn for years that was a gift from her now ex-husband. He had given it to her on their first date. She slipped it off and replaced it with the jersey. As she suspected it was too big for her but in her mind it fit like a glove.

“Nani? Nani?” Aiden bellowed for her from the side kitchen door that led to the outside garden path.

“I don’t think the neighbors heard you, can you yell louder, please?" she mocked. "What do you want?” She barked at him sticking her head out the door.

Aiden stood by the large outdoor garbage can and held up her favorite AC/DC t-shirt. “Why are you throwing this away?”

“I found something new I liked and figured it was about time I let go of the past.”

Confusion crossed his face. “Really? You’re really going to throw your favorite tee away? What could possibly replace this?”

Danny opened the kitchen door wide to fully reveal his old jersey. “It’s okay isn’t it Big Daddy?” She strode up to him wrapping her arms around his waist.

“Oh my God! My rugby jersey from high school! I thought I lost it, where did you find it?” He asked as he embraced her tightly.

“Some idiot put it in a box of old memento’s and labeled it ‘kitchen stuff’”

Aiden laughed. “Yeah I was pretty drunk when I packed up the apartment, but Nani are you sure you want to throw this away?” He held up the t-shirt again. “This shirt holds a lot of memories for you.”

 “I think it’s time for me to make new ones.” She reached her arms up around his neck and pulled herself up to his 6' 4" frame wrapping her legs around his waist. He let the shirt fall back in the trash as he wrapped his strong arms around her. Holding her close to him as they shared a deep kiss.

 

Danielle's Mardi Gras

Here is another short story featuring our herione, Danielle Labouleaux, from The Body Hunters.  In this story she's sixteen again and she gets into a little trouble when she heads down to Mardi Gras.  Enjoy!

The Body Hunters by Raven Newcastle http://www.amazon.com/dp/B009X971ME/ref=cm_sw_r_tw_dp_N6xQrb13R6TGQ … …

The Body Hunters: Paradise Denied by Raven Newcastle http://www.amazon.com/dp/B00CODG81Q/ref=cm_sw_r_tw_dp_r7xQrb0RWBN1N … … the fun continues in the sequel.

As usual the people who call themselves my mother and father are gone leaving me in this big empty house alone.  Of course they're off to save the world yet again, all the while forgetting about their only child.  Dad is an FBI agent and he's heading up a big investigation, so I expect him to be gone; it's just part of his job.  Mommy dearest on the other hand is off trying to impress her blue blood cronies by helping them with some charity dinner nonsense.

Those rich, high society bitches never did forgive my mom for marrying a black man, well Haitian Creole man to be exact.  Mom comes from a long line of New Orleans nobility, going all the way back to caveman times probably.  The snobs aren't exactly the most understanding and accepting group in the world.  Before the ink was dry on their marriage certificate they excommunicated mom from their little clique.  Over the years I've watched mom bust her ass trying to get back in the good graces of those good Christian women, for what I don't know.

She's even tried to use me in her ploy, expecting me to be a little brown copy of herself.  Other than my caramel complexion and my gold-brown eyes I got from Dad, we sorta do look alike.  I've got mom's straight black hair, which half the time I'm tempted to chop off just to piss her off and her facial features.  Except for my boobs and my butt, which I'm assuming I got from Dad's side of the family, me and mom share the same petite and thin body structure, though I do think I've got a couple inches on her.

She's always trying to get me to go to this ball and that extravaganza.  She forces me to wear these gaudy dresses showing me off to her so called friends like her personal life size Barbie.  I drew the line when she tried to force me into befriending their equally bitchy and uptight daughters.  That's definitely not gonna work.  Danielle Labouleaux is not going to be caught dead hanging around those backstabbing, stuck up, highfalutin', snotty heifers.  I've seen them in action and I need friends like that like I need a hole in the middle of my head.

With my issues with my parents, I'm so grateful for my grand mere.  My parents were always too busy for me, wrapped up in their own worlds, so my grandmother has been my one constant.  She lives just across the street which is totally convenient for those times when my 'birth units' piss me off or when I come home from school to an empty house.  No topic is off limits and I can always count on her to be my Yoda with the good advice.

The connection between me and grand mere also runs a bit deeper than most.  Unbeknownst to my parents and like my grand mere, I'm psychic.  I can communicate with the dead.  Yep, I see dead people! Grand mere says that it runs in the family through the female members of the Labouleaux family.  Due to a childhood illness that nearly killed me, Grand mere says I have a stronger connection to what she calls 'the spirit realm' and that one day my abilities will surpass even her own.

Even though I've had this ability since childhood, I've put off telling my parents.  I've seen the way they look at grand mere when she starts talking about spirits and the dead.  They treat her like a senile old lady with one foot in the nursing home, which I know is far from the truth.  Not wanting them to fit me for my own personal straight jacket, I decided long ago to keep my supernatural skills to myself.

Tonight is the Mardi Gras parade, and like my alien pods called parents, Grand mere is away, spending the evening at a church function. Without her to talk me out of any mischief, I'm left to my own devices.  Oh well, it serves Marcel and Juliana right for leaving me alone.  I surmise any trouble I get into is their fault.

Right now I'm in the garage, paying dear Lucille a visit.  Lucille is my dad's classic '70 Z28 Camaro.  He bought her before I was born from some old dude and he spent a nice chunk of change getting her in tip top shape over the years.  Last year he had a new engine and transmission put in and the year before that he went for the candy apple or as I like to say 'hooker red' paint job.  He refuses to let me drive her, but what dear old Dad doesn’t know won't hurt him.

Lucille and I have an understanding.  I take her out every now and then and she doesn’t tell Dad.  Seriously, it should be a sin to keep this car locked up the way he does like a giant paperweight.  It's like locking a lioness up in a cage without letting her go out and hunt.  Lucille is a bad ass ride and doesn’t deserve to be treated that way.  I smile to myself as I run a finger along the smooth lines of the hood.  Yeah, me and Lucille are gonna have a girl's night out.

With a plan in my head, I go up to my room and get dressed.  I pull on a black knit tunic that ends right above my knees, with a pair of skin tight denim leggings.  A black leather belt goes around my waist and I slip my feet into a pair of black biker boots that mom finds absolutely atrocious.  Just in case it’s a little chilly out, I grab a beat up leather jacket that I stole from Mom's closet a few months back.  I don't know what the hell she was doing with a leather jacket in the first place.  I check myself out at the mirror and like always my eyes gravitate toward the faint scar that runs between my breasts, a souvenir of my childhood illness.  Satisfied with my perfectly punk look, I go downstairs.  I reach into the cookie jar where dad thinks he keeps the keys hidden and head to the garage where Lucille is patiently waiting.

I'm sixteen years old and I can now drive without an adult being present.  When I'm allowed to drive, it's always the grandpa mobile my parents have designated as my car, you know the kind of car you don't back out of the drive way, you launch it, so driving Lucille is a treat.  I start her up and Lucille roars at me.  But any drive wouldn't be complete without driving music.  One of the upgrades dad made to the Camaro is a CD player, so I check the visor where he keeps his CD's stashed.  Sade, James Brown, Aretha Franklin, and Led Zeppelin are all waiting to be played like albums lined up in a juke box, but I grab Dad's AC/DC CD that mom refuses to let him play in the house.

With the bass cranked up way too loud, I head to my friend Amy's house, letting Lucille stretch her legs and pick up some speed.  I called Amy before leaving and she was up for hanging out tonight.  Maybe we could check out the Mardi Gras parade after all.

One of my pet peeves is people who like to mess over other people.  When I was in sixth grade, I came to Amy's defense when Tammy and her blue blood crew started picking on her at school.  I'd been watching from the sidelines as Amy, who joined the school in the middle of the year, was singled out by Tammy and her flunkies.  They'd call her names, talk about her mom, that sorta thing, and me rooting for the underdog, was waiting for Amy to tell them to take the express elevator straight to hell.  She never did and the bullying got worse and worse as Amy walked with her head down and never said a word in her own defense. 

The terrorizing escalated one day in the girl's locker room when one of the gang tripped Amy and Tammy shoved her to the ground.  Not able to mind my own business anymore, I intervened.  I helped Amy off the tile floor and told Tammy if I caught her or any of her friends messing with Amy again, I'd put my boot to her ass like she owed me money.  I could see the fear in Tammy's eyes.  You see me and that bitch went way back. 

When I came back to school after my heart surgery when I was six, Tammy was the ringleader of my torment, calling me Frankenstein because of my scar.  After not being able to take the teasing anymore, I beat the dog shit out of her.  She cried running home to mama and I was put on punishment.  She never so much as farted around me even after all those years.  She knew I wasn’t bluffing.

Since the moment I came to her rescue, Amy and I have been best friends.  She skips to the car as I pull up to her house, in her jeans, black tank top and sneakers, her blonde curls bouncing along the way.

"Sweet ride, Danny."  She said as she hops into the car.

I turn around the corner a little too fast probably, because I immediately see the blue and red lights flashing in my rear view mirror.

Oh shit.  I mutter as the cop slow walks to my door, my hands shaking like a leaf.  Dad is gonna skin me alive if he finds out!  I hand him my license and registration and he gives me that fatherly look.  As easily as he wields that look, I can tell that he has kids at home.  He lets me off with a ticket and a stern warning not to get into trouble.

Crisis averted, I head to the Mardi Gras parade and because of the crowd gathered on Bourbon Street, I am forced to park the car over a few blocks.

Amy and I are engrossed in the sights and sounds of Mardi Gras.  Even though I grew up in New Orleans, I was never allowed to visit the festivities because as my parents said 'Mardi Gras is not for kids'.  I immediately know exactly what they meant and as I'm quickly learning,  It's like a place for adults to behave badly, nothing and I mean nothing is too taboo.

As the parade floats pass, young women lift up their tops and show off their boobs for a handful of cheap plastic beads.  The smell of liquor and puke hangs in the air and I roughly grab Amy's arm as she's about to step into a suspicious puddle on the sidewalk.  Drunks stagger up and down the block while couples engage in PDA not caring who's watching.  Drag queens make their way through the street, flirting with the men in the crowd.  With all the adult activity going on around me, I start to feel a little uncomfortable and know exactly why I was forbidden from attending Mardi Gras in the first place.  Gee go figure the dynamic duo of Marcel and Juliana got it right for once!

After getting more than an eyeful of the festivities, I tell Amy that I'm ready to go.  We take our time as we head down Bourbon Street, window shopping the various store fronts.  Amy Oohs and Aahs over the display of a voodoo shop and I am reluctantly pulled inside. 

"Oh, this is so cool!"  Amy says as inside my head all my supernatural warning bells are going off like a car alarm.

This shop is obviously a tourist trap, filled with all the stereotypical things you'd expect in a voodoo shop, from voodoo dolls, incantation books, and a smoking cauldron.  It's to sucker the visitors in so they can buy 'authentic' voodoo paraphernalia.

"What you doin' here children?"  An old woman startles us as she emerges from the beaded doorway at the back of the shop.  Her voice heavily accented like someone from the Islands.

She's wearing a floor length caftan, small clouds of curly white hair peeking from under her turban, crowning her dark face.  Her eyes are locked on me and I can see that one of her eyes is grey and the other hazel.

"Ah, you have the sight child?"  She says to me and I know exactly what she's talking about.  She knows about my abilities.

She turns to Amy and dismisses her with a wave of her hand.  "You wait outside."

Like she's watching a tennis match, Amy looks between me and the woman for a few seconds before finally obeying.

Now alone the woman reaches for me.  The first thing I think of when I see her hand is the gnarled roots of a tree.  Her skin is baby smooth though, her hands warm as she takes mine.

"You are strong, child."  She says to me.  "Your grand mere teach you?  Yes?"

With my grand mere's training, I'm not at all skeptical about this woman knowing about me.  It just goes with the territory.  I feebly shake my head yes.

"You will suffer a great loss of something you never knew you had."  She predicts, her voice is raspy like she needs to clear her throat.  "Three loves you will have."

Okay, she is really freaking me out with these predictions!  She must have read my mind because she releases my hand, but not before pointing her knobby finger into my chest.

"Beware of a wolf in sheep's clothing."  She says as I just nod my head like an idiot.  She smiles and waves her hand at me to leave.

I'm practically running back out to Bourbon Street where Amy is waiting wide eyed.  "What happened?"

"Um..She just wanted to tell my fortune."  I say.  Amy doesn't know I'm psychic and I have no plans to share it with her either.

I am totally rattled by the old woman's predictions, so I'm not in a talkative mood as I drop Amy back at home.  I know it's harsh since she's my best friend, but I need some time to think to myself.  I pull Lucille back into the garage without incident, remembering to leave things as I found them.  I'm pacing in front of our big picture window, until I see grand mere pull up into her driveway.

Before she's out of the car, I'm across the street rambling on about what happened at Mardi Gras.  Calm as ever she wraps her arm around me and sits me at her kitchen table, asking me to go over what I said slowly.  With a freshly brewed cup of her special tea in front of me, I tell her the whole story between sips. 

Grand mere doesn't seem the least bit troubled.  She takes my hands and tells me that my future is what I make it.  No one can know my future except for me.  Feeling a little better, I nod and she wraps me in a hug and kisses my cheek.  She points her finger at me and lightly scolds me about taking Lucille out without permission.  It's funny how just a little chastising from her feels worse than any hollering my parents do when they're mad at me.  I tell her I'll try and do better, but I'm careful not to make any promises.

Two weeks later the old woman's premonitions are just a faded memory.  I walk into our house, slinging my backpack onto the loveseat.  For some strange reason Dad is home, sitting in his favorite living room chair.  There's a small stack of mail on the wooden coffee table. 

I look at him and he looks at me.  I know something is wrong but I don't know what.

"Hey."  I said, putting my toe in to test the waters.

"Hey."  He answers back.

"What's going on?"  I ask.

"Oh, nothing."  He says, flipping through the envelopes.  "Just sorting through mail, you know: catalogues, bills, traffic tickets."

I am so busted.  I'd planned on paying that ticket, but I'd forgotten all about it.  My mouth opens to speak, but I can't make anything come out.

"You mind telling me what you were doing out in Lucille?"  He growls, holding up the ticket reminder postcard.

"Uh, yeah, uh.  See what had happened was….."