[add in the time after being shot/healed, adjust conversation]
Dax sat nursing a luke warm can of Ranier, grimacing after with every sip. Thinking about the sudden swirl of events he seemed to be the epicenter of, he’d become lost in his thoughts and let the cold can warm in his hands.
He’d lost a week of time on his back healing from the wound to his chest. The doctor Delphine had sent him to did a great job, and his own healing did the rest, but something of the bullet had lingered, keeping from healing quite right, just as it had the last time, though this wound was far worse. When he thought about, the girl’s face popped into his head. She’d apologized before shooting him, but the pain had burned hotter than the infernos of several hells.
Looking down at the can, he didn’t know why he kept drinking from it. He knew what it cost him at wholesale. He could afford to dump one partial can and order a fresh one, but he kept at it anyways. It was probably thirty cents worth of cheap beer, but it was his and he’d be damned if he was going to waste it.
“Looks like you’re really enjoying that, boss. Want a new can? Or something to go with it to cover the taste?” Tomi tipped his head toward the whiskey shelves.
“No. I’ll—”
A series a vibrations from his pocket interrupted him. Pulling his phone out, he saw an unknown number calling him. He shrugged and hit the ignore button, setting the phone on the bar top. Instead of leaving a voice mail, whoever it was called again.
Rolling his eyes, he picked it up and pointed the screen toward Tomi. “You recognize that number?”
Tomi leaned forward and squinted at the screen. “Nah. But then again, I’m a millennial. I don’t have a bunch of phone numbers memorized.”
Dax hovered his finger over the screen, the tip moving back and forth between ignore and answer. Sighing, he hit the answer button. If they were this persistent, he’d might as well answer before it become too annoying.
“This is Dax. What do you want?”
A snort and short chuckle greeted him, followed by rolling New Orleans accent of Manman Delphine. “Hello to you, too, Dax. How are you feeling after your little misadventure.”
“Well enough. Still not one hundred percent, but I’m ambulatory,” he replied.
“I’m glad to hear it. Now back to what you so graciously started the conversation with… It’s not so much what I want but what you want.”
Relaxing somewhat, he picked up his can of beer and took another swig, grimacing at the warm flat liquid. “And what do I want, Delphine?”
“You want to repay the favors I’ve done for you with a favor of your own. Then it’ll be off your conscious. And isn’t a clear conscious what we all want at the end of the day?”
Dax couldn’t help smiling at the humorous and sardonic tone Delphine took with him. But then he wondered what kind of favor the manbo was going to want from him and whether it would be mundane or supernatural. He certainly owed her enough after the three favors she’d helped him with, including saving his life. “I can’t disagree with that.” Looking around at the customers nearest him, he stood up and tossed a coaster on top of his can, indicating he’d be back. “How can I achieve that admirable goal?”
He headed toward the back of the bar, unlocking the tearoom and slid in, relocking the door before heading to the back of the room.
“Is there a reason you’re being circumspect with your responses?” Delphine asked.
“Sorry, I was just surrounded by curious customers. It’s safe to talk now,” he replied. “What is the manner in which I can clear my debt to you?”
She chuckled. “I wouldn’t consider it a debt, but a favor…or three among friendly acquaintances.”
He couldn’t decide what might the more potent and potentially dangerous option of the two—debt versus favor—and which would allow him a clean repayment. In human terms, a debt could conversely be paid and the tie between parties ended. Favors, though. They could lead to an endless entanglement of spiraling favors. It would all just depend on who the favors were owed to and what they chose to make of them where the spiral elevated both parties are dragged them down into the depths.
He was glad to know she might consider him a friendly acquaintance, though. Despite her protestations and humble demeanor during their first meeting, he could sense a deep power flowing beneath the surface…for a human. He had few friends in Red City after years of lying low and living an unnoticeable life since being banished to the city. And since then, he’d never tried to flex his proverbial muscles to see what power he’d been left with after being betrayed and exiled. He didn’t want to find out how short the leash he was being kept on was.
“How can I repay the favors, friendly acquaintance?” he asked.
“I appreciate your plainspoken nature, Dax. I’ll accord you the same respect.” She paused, taking a deep breath. “I know what you are… Or rather, what you were, though I don’t know quite where the two intersect.”
He stared at the back wall, his breathing steady but shallow. He’d suspected that might be the case after the meeting. She knew her business and afforded him a respectful curtsy when they’d finished her business. If she had even a portion of the power he thought she might, he’d have been disappointed in her diligence if she’d not tested around the edges of his aura, such as it was these days.
“Fair enough. Assuming you’re correct. How does that play into your favor? My powers are few and weak these days, nor do I care to exercise them in case I draw the wrong kind of attention.”
She sighed. “Though I do appreciate the verbal fencing, this might be better discussed in person. Adela tells me you have a penchant for making and drinking excellent tea. If you’re available tomorrow, I’ll stop by your tearoom and you can make me a cup of tea and we can discuss it in person.”
“Very well. Tomi comes in at noon tomorrow so he can cover the bar while we talk.”
“Adyeu, Dax.”
“Adyeu.”
Delphine sniffed deeply at the hard disc of pu-erh tea. “Dark, earthy, and complex. Like me.” She chuckled. “I’ll take a cup of this, please.”
Nodding, Dax set the kettle to bring it to a boil. He’d already set up most of the tea service, but had to wait for Delphine to choose her tea before selecting the pot. She’d selected one of his most prized teas, though he’d never have offered it to her if he didn’t wish her to have it. He’d hoped she would select it. Few did, and this was a tea he felt needed to be shared—it was an indulgence he rarely chose when he brewed tea for just himself.
Explaining the process and ceremony as he performed it, Delphine relaxed, giving him her attention. Once he poured the tea into their two cups, he sat down. Cupping the small tea bowl in both her hands, she lifted it and nodded toward him before taking a deep sniff, a small smile quirking up the corner of her plump lips. She blew over the steaming cup until she felt it was ready to for a noisy sip.
Sighing contentedly, she looked up from her cup. “Delightful. I hope you know I risked leaving my home without lipstick so it wouldn’t interfere with your tea. I’m glad I did. This cup was worth it.”
He chuckled lightly, nodding to acknowledge the courtesy. “There are plenty more steepings and plenty more character to explore in this tea as it evolves and changes with each cupping.”
Delphine smirked, her eyes twinkling. “Again, much like me.”
Unsure how to respond, he retreated into a sip or two of his own, savoring the deeply complex and rich flavors and aromas of the post-fermented, aged tea.
“Thank you for choosing this one,” he said, finally breaking the silence. “It’s one of my favorites, but I rarely get the opportunity to drink it.”
“Why? It’s your tea. Life is too hard and short, especially in a city like this. Well…for most of us.” She raised an eyebrow and held his gaze for a few moments. “We should enjoy ourselves while we can. Undrunk tea makes no one happy.”
“But some things are better shared—their beauty often serving to remind you of what’s missing.”
“Beauty is still beauty where it’s witnessed with another or by one’s self.” She shrugged. “Life is precious. Something too many take for granted.” She punctuated her statement by downing the last of her tea and exhaling happily as she set the cup back on the tray for the next round.
He obliged her and set the tea to boil. Filling the silence, she chatted about how she’d landed in Redemption City. He’d guessed right that she’d been one of the people who’d had to leave New Orleans because of Hurricane Katrina.
After several more cups, she straightened up and fixed a serious gaze on him. “I understand you’re in the business of transitions for those people who are willing to pay…”
He nodded. “On occasion, I’ve augmented the meager income of this place by using what powers and skills are still left in my repertoire. Though, I don’t do it often so I can continue to avoid notice.”
“I understand. I do much the same, though my meager abilities are rarely worth noticing.”
He snorted. “Since we’re being frank, you’re not required to maintain your facade of meekness in my presence.”
Delphine sat back and gave him a knowing smile, placing her hand over her chest. “Allow a lady her secrets.”
Chuckling, he raised an eyebrow. “As you wish.” He reached over and set the kettle to boil again. “Back to your point—I have been known to help facilitate a paradigm shift in the occasional client’s relationship vis a vis this world and the next.”
“Fah! You sound like some puke in a suit. It’s unbecoming of one of your dignity.”
Shaking his head, he tried to keep the look of annoyance off his face since it wasn’t directed at the manbo. “I have been left with little of that in recent years.”
Pursing her lips, she stared at him for longer than felt comfortable. “That is not something that can be taken away from you…unless you allow it to be so.”
Delphine held his gaze until the intensity of it and her words became too much for him, and he looked away. She’d called him out on his self-pity, something no one else had, though none but Tomi and his family knew who he was, and even they only knew a fraction of the truth. Well, them and whoever was trying to kill him. But right now, he couldn’t afford to dedicate too much time delving into his own feelings, not with Delphine staring at him waiting for him to do something.
Sighing, he raised his eyes until they met hers. “Who am I helping and why?”
Delphine relaxed, setting her elbows on the table and allowing them to take her weight. “A friend because there is no one else who can, nor can they afford other alternatives.”
“Can you acquire something of theirs? Something that has significant meaning to them, preferably something that’s had extended physical contact.”
Instead of answering, she reached into her purse and pulled out a bracelet made from shaped and polished stones that varied in tones from beiges to deeper browns. He couldn’t tell what kind of stones they were, geology was not his area of knowledge or interest. Cupping both his hands together, he extended them so Delphine could drop the bracelet into them. Even before she handed over the bangle, he could feel the sense of its owner seeping into the air around it.
The stones felt smooth and cool to the touch with a nice weight that spoke of solidity. Folding one hand over so the bracelet was clasped between his palms, he closed his hands over it and extended his thoughts. The owner and the bracelet had been together for a long time. He could follow their life together back to a small hillside village in Haiti through New Orleans where they ultimately ended up in Redemption City. The stones had soaked up decades of struggle, hope, and love so strongly he felt he could follow the threads from beginning to end.
“Will that do?” Delphine asked.
He nodded then stood up, opening his eyes before heading toward his wall of tea and teapots. Winding the bracelet between the fingers of his left hand, he reached out and grabbed a tin of tea, opening it. Chinese green tea—after a quick sniff, he closed the tin and put it back in its spot. Next, an Indian Assam black tea. It too was rejected briefly. After he pulled down a Bai hao Zin Zhen, he paused and took another sniff. Then to confirm, he held the tin in his left hand with the bracelet so the sense of both could mingle.
Nodding to himself, he set the the silver needle white tea down and turned to the manbo. “When and where?”
Raising an eyebrow, she stared back at him for a moment, the corner of one side of her mouth quirking up. “Tomorrow evening. I’ll text you the address.”