Body and Soul

**Author's Note: For the full effect, be sure to listen to Billie Holiday's version of Body and Soul before you read**

*****

My days have grown so lonely

For you I cry, for you dear only

Why haven't you seen it?

I'm all for you, body and soul*

Jonathan stepped into the choking cigar smoke of La Petite Evangeline like a man walking to the gallows. Though he had almost no experience of these places, he knew this was a dive, it had a smell you could feel crawling on your skin. The lights were kept dim not for the ambiance but to keep the customers from seeing the filth. Not that anyone present could have seen much thorough their drunkenness This was a speakeasy though from the frequent complaints of the clientele, a raid of the premises might not find any alcohol at all. Jonathan did not drink though he ordered and paid for one anyway. Despite it all, it was the fourth time this week he had come. One thing made up for all these shortcomings: Crystal.

The world dissolved as Crystal glided across the stage with all the grace and beauty of a panther, silencing even the loudest of the drunks. Her skin was as black as her satin dress, her short hair adorned with a single white orchid. She nodded to the the bass player and pianist then looked out over the audience. The instruments set a bouncy rhythm and she smiled. Her voice flowed over Jonathan and he let himself drown. The music spoke of longing, passion, possession. The set ended, the spell broke and for the fourth time in as many days, Jonathan felt the flush of regret and shame wash over him. For the fourth time in as many days he stood up from his table, the drink untouched, and walked back to his room at the boarding house, swearing he would never go back.

I spend my days in longing

I'm wondering why it's me your wronging

I tell you I mean it

I'm all for you, body and soul*

Sleep brought him no peace, tormented by thoughts and dreams of Crystal. How had it come to this? He had come to New Orleans a month ago from a small town in Connecticut. He had certainly not come for the music, he had come to help. The port city of New Orleans was hit hard by the slump in trade that followed the crash. He had come with a church group to help start a soup kitchen in the city, one of many their church had been building across the nation. He had stepped off the steamboat Esmeralda into the largest city he had ever seen. He had come with high hopes of doing God's work, but then he had heard the music.

Music had never figured heavily in his life. The funeral, as it moved languidly down Decatur Street past the newly opened soup kitchen towards Jackson Square, was a revelation. The music spoke to him then, seemed to call him by name. It reached into his body and shook his soul. It was a music of loss, of deep sorrow. The men in the line turned and removed their hats as the procession passed. Jonathan, a tear running down his face, turned to one of the men in line and asked whose funeral this was.

"That all be for Betty Johnson, missah."

The man's voice was filled with deep respect and the echo of a great loss.

"Who was she?"

He had not heard of anyone of import dying recently, though as this was his third day in the city he was not entirely surprised that he had not.

"She was a cook, missah."

Jonathan was gobsmacked and spoke before thinking.

"Just a cook?"

The man turned a reproachful look towards Jonathan.

"She was a damn fine cook, missah, damn fine. She made her a gumbo that made you glad you was born and no doubt."

Once the procession had reached Jackson Square the music changed. The change had come so naturally but still Jonathan could not believe his ears. The man with whom he had been speaking was now smiling and wiping a single tear from the corner of his eye he began to chuckle.

"Why are you laughing?"

"I's had me enough of crying about never havin' Betty's gumbo no more, I's just happy I had it when I did. She always did be sure mine had plenty of shrimp, she know'd how much I loved me some shrimp."

The man looked deeply and thoughtfully into Jonathan's eyes as he continued to chuckle.

"If you likes that music, missah, you get yo'self down to La Petite Evangeline then come and tell me I done steered you wrong."

Jonathan snapped awake to a knock at the door. It was time to get to the soup kitchen. Another day of trying to reinforce his will with the Lord's work. So many idle souls in this city. So much need. So much longing. So much desire.

My life's a hell your making

You know I'm yours just for the taking

I'd gladly surrender

Myself to you body and soul*

It had taken him a week to find the place and then two more before he summoned the courage to walk in. Afterwards, it had been a daily cycle of torment, abnegation, capitulation, ecstasy fulfillment, and regret. Walking down Canal Street to catch a street car one afternoon, he ran straight into her. His mind had been focused on her and now there she stood before him, apologizing profusely. He could do nothing but stare. She looked up at him and recognition dawned on her face.

"You've been there every night this week haven't you."

He was speechless, he desperately tried to fight the flush coming over his face to find something to say but all he could do was stare.

"I don't often see no white boys at Evangeline, and least not ones that are as easy on the eyes as you."

He felt dizzy, he felt he would giggle like a child. He stammered out words without thinking, regretting each one more than the last but found he could not stop himself.

"You're so beautiful... your voice... is... so beautiful, not that you aren't beautiful too..."

She smiled as she touched his lips with her finger to stem the flow of words. He had never felt such relief mixed with such longing. 10 minutes later to his immense joy and surprise, Jonathan was sitting across from her in an empty cafe.

"What's a handsome boy like you doing in New Orleans? I know you ain't from 'round here with an accent like that."

And the flood of words began again. He couldn't help himself, her eyes seemed to reach into him and pull out the words. He felt foolish when he finished but her smile soothed him. And so they sat until well after dark, their coffees untouched and cold. Crystal broke the spell when she noticed the clock in the cafe chimed 8 o'clock She had to get back to Evangeline, worried what the owner, Ricky, would do if she was late. And so she left, but not before asking him to wait for her after her set was done. He stammered that he would. And then regret washed over him the moment she was out of sight.

In torment over what he was doing he found himself walking the familiar route. His mind raced at the prospects of spending time with her again, of merely being in her presence again but then deep regret and fear boiled up within him at every thought. He was unsure how he would politely decline Crystal's offer. All thoughts of declining Crystal's invitation were banished as soon as she walked on stage. That night, when she sang, she sang for him alone. Her eyes were riveted to his, every song was languid and she sang them all with a passion as sweet and thick as honey. When she left the stage he nearly tripped over every table between himself and the door.

His heart was pounding as he waited for her outside. She came on the arm of another man. He felt the flush rising over him. The man looked him up and down and shook his head as Crystal introduced him to Ricky, the owner of Le Petite Evangeline. The man did not accept Jonathan's proffered hand, instead he spat some of the tobacco he was chewing onto his shoe and smiled.

"Jesus, Crystal, you always did have such terrible taste in men."

As he got into his car, Ricky turned and opened his jacket to reveal a shoulder holster.

"Remember, Crystal, I own you!"

As the car pulled away, she turned to Jonathan and took his face in her.

"Don't you worry none about Ricky, he's a coward, a little dog with too much bark, he'd never use that gun on no one, he's too scared of it."

He had assumed they would be going to a cafe, he was shocked when she lead him into an apartment building and in utter disbelief she lead him to her third floor apartment, unlocked the door and ushered him inside. The space was small, a bed, a wardrobe and a small table with two chairs. The only thing Jonathan noticed however, was Crystal. She smiled at him and took off his coat. He was too stunned to move as she kissed him fully on the lips. Hers were soft and full and he moaned despite himself. She stepped away from him and slipped out of her dress so that she stood before him in nothing but a white satin slip. His mouth went dry as his heart pounded.

She stepped towards him while letting the slip fall from her shoulders. He flushed and tried to push her away but his hands found themselves slipping around her waist instead. She kissed him again. Deeply, passionately. His resistance fled before the onslaught of his desire and he returned the kiss adding fuel to her mounting fire. she unbuttoned his shirt and slipped it off his shoulders pulled his undershirt over his head. Then knelt down in front of him. She undid his belt. He watched incapable of moving as his pants and boxers hit the floor, his erection standing straight out before him.

She looked up into his eyes and slowly, deliberately licked the length of his shaft. He whimpered as his stomach quivered. She took him in her warm wet mouth and as she began to stroke him he felt a sudden rush. He exploded in her mouth and she eagerly swallowed sucking and stroking his shaft to get every last bit. The shame and embarrassment he felt immediately after was overwhelming. She shushed him and kissed him, and lead him to her small bed. She had to force him to meet her eyes.

"It's okay, we just gots to wait a bit for your strength to come back is all, you'll see. But while we's waitin' on that, there ain't no reason to stop."

She took his shaking hand and placed it between her legs. Her eyes rolled back in her head as he touched her. With a great patience and a soft guiding hand she was rewarded. Jonathan watched as she writhed against his touch. She kissed him broke the kiss to gasp for air as her whole body shook. Within minutes and to his surprise his erection had returned.

"That a boy"

She gripped him in her hand and began to stroke him again. He was flushed, gasping, moaning. He put his hand to head and caught the scent of her on his fingers. He sucked at them. Then, sliding his fingers back between her legs he slid them where he remembered her telling her was so good. Her writhing body pressed against him they kissed, their tongues sliding between their open mouths. She caught hi lower lip between her teeth and bit as she moaned deeply. He had hit just the right spot and she ground herself against his fingers. When the climax had eased he brought his fingers back to his mouth. Her taste was intoxicating, maddening. He wanted more. She took his head between her hands and kissed him deeply, then she pushed hi head down to her breast. He sucked and licked, it was awkward but his enthusiasm made up for experience and his tongue felt so wonderful on her body. He was so willing to pleasure her, so quick to take instruction. He was soon between her legs her feet resting on his back as he licked and sucked until she needed to feel him deep inside her.

She pulled him up for a kiss as she wrapped her long legs around his hips and pulled him into her. He gasped. Nothing existed to him but her. It was like the music. It drove itself into him, filled him, shook him to the core. Some primal instinct drove him to thrust against her as his conscious mind faded. Enthusiasm got the best of him and soon he was convulsing on top of her. She drank in his pleasure, patient, she knew they had all night and he seemed more than ready to keep trying.

She was nestled in the crook of his arm despite the oppressive heat. She could not quite remember how many times they had made love that night, between bouts of fitful, restless sleep.

"Let me take you away from all of this!"

She looked up at him.

"Take me away from what?"

He was incredulous.

"From this horrible city, from this dingy apartment, from that horrible club, from Ricky..."

She smiled.

"Ricky can say he owns me all he wants, the music always sets me free, and as long as I can sing, I will always be free. Where would you take me where I can be as free as when I'm on that stage singin'?"

He left in the morning after sharing their love once more. As he walked down the street, back to the boarding house where he would certainly face many a curious stare from fellow guests and the land lady. Ricky's car pulled out in front of Crystal's apartment building. He looked from Jonathan's departing form back up to the third floor, with a deep frown he spat his tobacco on the sidewalk, straightened his jacket, and walked to the door.

She wasn't there for her usual set. Jonathan was frantic. He asked the bar tender where she was. He hadn't seen her or Ricky all day. He burst out into the night and ran. Thoughts and fears scrambling for primacy in his mind, each one more horrifying than the last. His lungs burned as he reached her apartment and was about to knock when he heard her voice, pleading. The door was ajar and he burst in. Ricky stood over a prone and bleeding Crystal as he pistol whipped her once more. The wet thud made something inside Jonathan snap. He rushed at the man screaming fists raised. Ricky turned and fired the pistol. Jonathan staggered and fell, Crystal screamed. Ricky dropped the pistol as if it had bit him and ran out the door, a look of horror on his face. Crystal crawled over and cradled Jonathan's head in her lap and wept.

He died in her arms with a smile on his lips.

My life revolves about you

What earthly good am I without you

Oh I tell you I mean it

I'm all for you, body and soul*

*-Body and Soul lyrics by Edward Heyman, Robert Sour and Frank Eyton