Ashe parked near the old train station on Water Street. All the other streets into downtown were closed off to regular traffic. Rivers of people flowed down the sidewalks on both sides of the street. When traffic lights stopped the flow of cars on Water Street, tributaries of revelers crossed toward downtown.
He and Cybil walked across the parking lot. Shards of broken glass glittered in the streetlight. The smell of the shipping canal hung heavy in the air. Ashe didn’t go downtown much and when he did, it was mostly to Dauphin Street where the bars and bohemian shops and cafés were. The stench of fish and diesel fuel didn’t waft that far up. The wind off the water added a bite to the February air. He pulled his trench coat around him and knotted the belt around his waist. Cybil buttoned up a black peacoat and tugged at a fuzzy-looking pink scarf around her neck.
“It’s a little bit colder than I thought it would be tonight,” she said as they stepped onto the sidewalk and headed toward the nearest crosswalk.
“I was thinking that myself.” Ashe shoved his hands into his pockets. “You want to go back to school?”
“No. It’s the first parade of the season, and maybe the weirdest.”
“This is my first Mardi Gras parade, ever,” Ashe said.
As they stopped to wait at the crosswalk, Cybil cut her eyes over at him. “Really? How long have you lived here?”
“This is my second year. Marianne and I talked about coming down last year, but it rained on Mardi Gras day, and we didn’t feel like standing out in that.”
The light changed, and the walk sign flashed white. He and Cybil started across the street with a handful of other people. Kids ran past them as their parents yelled for them to wait. On the other side of Water Street, Cybil took the lead and cut across the parking lot of a bank.
“Parades run every night for two weeks before the actual day,” she said.
Ashe walked faster to catch up with her. They crossed a blocked-off street at an angle. “We didn’t know that then. We had planned on going to a few parades this time, but.”
Cybil stopped at the corner of Royal Street and St. Michael. “I’m sorry I brought it up. I didn’t mean to get you feeling bad. We came down here to have a good time and to get your mind off of things.”
“Everything is going to make me emotional right now,” Ashe said. “My fiancée just died.”
A burst of noise that sounded like an old air raid siren from World War II movies echoed down the street. Cybil grabbed him by the wrist and pulled him across St. Michael. They trotted. Ashe pulled his hand back. He didn’t want to risk a student or worse a colleague seeing him being pulled along by a work-study. He reconsidered coming to the parade with her. If the chair of his department heard, he would be in trouble or least have a hard time explaining things. Ashe slowed down.
“Come on,” Cybil said. “That siren means the parade has started. We’ve got to hurry to get in place. We’re already not going to get on the barrier. We’ll have to fight with all sorts of people for beads.”
“Maybe I should go back to the car and wait. I’m going to be a wet blanket.”
“Don’t worry about it. You already are. Plus, I plan on drinking after this. You’ll be sitting there a long time waiting.” She smiled. “Maybe you can get a couple of drinks in you and help lighten your mood.”
Ashe liked the idea of being able to down a few beers in a loud crowded bar where people might not know him, but certainly wouldn’t sympathize with him. He nodded and started behind her. Cybil turned up the next street and cut through an alley. He followed her, until they came out on a busy street. All sorts of people milled around on the sidewalk. The air felt electric. People screamed and laughed. Cybil grabbed him by the wrist again and pulled him along. Finally they pushed through a group, elbowing them until they stood at a metal barricade.
“What are you doing?” a scruffy-looking man asked when Cybil pushed him to the side to get a place at the edge of the street.
“I’m here for the parade,” she said with no fear in her voice. “You got a problem?”
“You need to get your girlfriend under control,” the man said to Ashe.
“I’m not his girlfriend, you insensitive prick. She died yesterday, so why don’t you step off before I shove my Doc Marten so far into your groin that you’ll think you’re eating oysters.”
Cybil stuck her chest out at him like a rooster prancing before the hens in his barnyard. The scruffy man backed down. He shook his head and slipped into the group of people behind him.
“That was a little bit—”
“Ballsy?”
“Scary. He could’ve broken you in half,” Ashe said.
“And I could have made him taste his own foreskin for a month.” She smiled and clambered onto the metal barrier as two police motorcycles passed.
Ashe looked up as the first float rolled down the street. A banner lit with LCD Christmas lights read The Buttercups: Ode to Joy. The float had a huge bust of Beethoven rotating on a platform. Revelers in powdered wigs and sequined harlequin masks wore candy-colored costumes that looked like tailed tuxedo jackets with matching knee britches and stockings. A shower of green, purple and gold bead necklaces rained down on the crowd. Ashe put his hand up to block the hard plastic beads from hitting him in the face. A few of the necklaces tangled in his fingers.
“Put them on,” Cybil yelled at him while holding her hands out to the float.
She’d stripped off her coat and scarf. Several strings of Mardi Gras beads hung around her neck. He pulled the two necklaces over his head. They hung loose on him. A small brass band walked between the floats. They played some jazz song that didn’t sound like any song in particular.
“How’s this?” he asked.
“You look better, but you’ve got to want those things. The first float will toss out things without any real reason. The later ones are a bit pickier. They usually have better stuff too.” Cybil yelled as a masked man on horseback trotted by. He handed her a string of beads the size of silver dollars. Each looked like a multicolored mirror ball at a prom. “I got a fifth of Jack last year.”
“Really. How did you get that?”
The next float came past. A cheap plastic toy hit Ashe in the head. He turned to the float and held his hands up again to block getting hit more than to catch something. A young-looking man with a bright red Venetian mask with a long beak-like nose taunted the crowd with a plush toy that looked like an alien giving the finger.
“Like this,” Cybil said.
Ashe looked over to see her lifting her top up, revealing her small breasts. The cold air made her pinkish nipples stand erect. He looked away but not before the image of her fist-sized milky breasts was seared into his memory. The big-nosed parade reveler tossed the alien to Cybil while giving her a big thumbs-up and flicking his tongue out.
“You have to be careful doing that though. The cops don’t like it too much here in Mobile. You can usually get away with it at Bienville Square or on this stretch.”
Ashe looked back at her while a high school band played a march as they passed. She shoved the stuffed toy into her pocket and readied herself to catch more beads. He turned back to the parade as well. Ethics training kept rolling over in his head as did the image of Marianne lying naked on the morgue table. The orderly jiggled her breasts in his memory instead of pointing at them like on the video. He saw in his mind’s eye Cybil’s boobs bouncing up and down as she tried to get that alien.
Beads flew at Ashe. He caught some but let others go. As the parade progressed, he caught a few small silver-cellophane wrapped MoonPies that he shoved in his coat pockets. Some playful reveler on a float shaped like a piano with everyone dressed like Elton John on The Muppet Show tossed him a pair of thong panties. He shoved those quickly into his pocket before anyone saw them. Without being aware, he laughed at times. Toward the end he even looked over at Cybil without feeling guilty or embarrassed.
Red and white strobe lights flashed. A siren accompanied the lights. Cybil hopped off the metal barrier. She took him by the hand and pulled him back onto the sidewalk. A fire engine rolled past, and several men in coveralls with City of Mobile printed on the breast pocket came down the line of barriers. They lifted them up and slammed them back to the sidewalk. Ashe barely had his feet out of the gutter before the barrier slammed into the cement.
“You can get a hurt ankle if you’re not fast enough,” Cybil said. “Since you’re a virgin and everything, I figured you wouldn’t know about that.”
Ashe knew she meant he was a virgin to the Mardi Gras experience, but he felt like a gawky awkward teen boy who had just gotten to second base and was hoping to round third. A large wad of shiny metallic colored beads rested on the small bumps of breast that he’d just seen her flash. Although he knew it was wrong and that thinking of stuff like that was not what he should be focused on right now, he wanted to see her breasts again.
“Thanks. The last thing I need is a broken ankle,” he said, making eye contact with her as quickly as he could and hoping that it didn’t seem like he was intentionally doing it. “I guess we head back to campus now?”
“If that’s what you want to do,” Cybil said.
“It’s a school night.” He felt like such a geek saying that. “I’ve skipped too many classes lately. The university isn’t paying me not to teach.”
She looped her arm under his and started walking. He followed her lead. They moved with the current of revelers making their way down Dauphin Street.
“Maybe they should,” she said.
“Should what?”
“Pay you for not teaching. I’ve heard your lectures.”
He looked down at his student worker. She smiled at him. He laughed.
“Maybe we could stop in for a drink.” He paused in front of a bar called Grand Central.
“That’s fine, but not here,” she said. “There’s a better place about a block away. It’s less crowded and well, less that.” She pointed to a few people going in who looked like stereotypical college students.
“Sounds good; lead the way.”
Cybil pulled him down the street. All different sorts of people passed them as they moved slowly down the sidewalk. A few people dressed in evening wear with feather masks on laughed as they shoved past. Parents with small children weighed down in bead necklaces did the same. Ashe looked down at his feet as they walked. He didn’t feel like making eye contact with anyone. Embarrassment burned at the edges of his psyche. If they ran into a colleague, he would be caught for sure, even though he hadn’t done a single thing wrong.
His shoulder knocked hard into someone walking the opposite way. He looked up to apologize. A tall, slender black woman stood staring at him. Her eyes were amber and seemed distant but intent. They pierced into his. A feeling of déjà vu hit him as if he knew the woman from somewhere. He tried to think if she was on the faculty at Alabama Tech.
“I’m sorry,” he said, letting Cybil’s arm slip from his.
“No worries, friend,” she said back with a flat tone. “I should have been watching where I was going.”
“I didn’t hurt you did I?” he asked.
“No, friend.”
He felt Cybil’s lips close to his ear. She whispered, “I think she must be some kind of religious nut.”
“Have you been enjoying the parade and festivities?” the woman asked.
“Yes,” Ashe said. “It was my first parade ever.”
“Here comes the sermon,” Cybil whispered again.
“I am the president of a new parading society, the Mystics of Mayhem. We will be parading on Mardi Gras night starting at 11:15 p.m., promptly. It would be appreciated if you came out to support us on our first year of revelry.”
“Sounds fun,” Cybil said. “How did a new society get that time so close to the end of the festival?”
“It is amazing what money will do.” The woman laughed, but it sounded very artificial and forced to Ashe.
The president of the Mystics of Mayhem began to give him the creeps. Her stare never changed, and he hadn’t noticed her blinking.
“We’ll try to come, but I can’t promise anything. It’s still a while off,” he said.
“I understand, but remember Mystics of Mayhem on Mardi Gras night promptly at 11:15 p.m. We have to be finished by 11:59.”
“Why is that?” he asked.
“Because Lent starts at midnight,” she said as if everyone should know that.
“Thank you,” Cybil said and pulled Ashe down the street.
He looked back at the woman, who walked toward the bar Grand Central. Her steps looked stiff, but nothing else struck him as out of the ordinary.
“That was a strange lady,” he said.
“Most of them are,” Cybil said.
“Most of whom? Ladies?”
“No, presidents of parading societies. I’ve met a few while trying to get tickets to a ball. You’d be surprised what they expect people to do for those things.”
“Like flash.” Ashe didn’t mean to say it, but the words just slipped out.
“I guess I should be embarrassed that my boss has seen my boobs, but I had to have that alien. They’re my thing.”
Cybil paused in the street and let her coat slip from her shoulder. She reached and pulled down the neck of her shirt to show the part of her back at her shoulders. A green alien head with big eyes stared up at Ashe. Its eyes seemed livelier than those of the woman they had just spoken with.
“That’s…”
“Cool.” She pulled her coat back up.
“Weird.”
She slipped her arm back through his and pointed down the street. “The bar is just around the corner.”
Traffic Camera: Corner of Dauphin and Conti Streets, Mobile, AL, 9:19 p.m. CST
Marianne walks across the middle of the intersection ignoring any traffic that is on the street. An SUV brakes violently before hitting her. The driver, a bulky man wearing a trucker hat, jumps out of his car. He walks up to Marianne and jabs his hands in the air at her, but she keeps walking slowly toward the other side of the road.
The driver reaches out and grabs her by the shoulder. She turns on him, grabbing his arm. He falls to his knees as she turns his forearm over. After letting him go, Marianne continues across the street. The driver kneels in the middle of the intersection. He screams at the sky and holds his arm, which dangles at his side. A woman climbs from the passenger side of the SUV. She helps the man up and back to the SUV. Then she looks down the street at Marianne. She takes a step in that direction, but then hurries to her SUV. The vehicle speeds through the intersection.