Down at the Twist and Shout Ch. 03

"You morons better back away," he heard her say. "An' you better git yo' casket ready, 'cause when Johnny B hear what you tryna do, he gonna tear off yo' heads an' piss down yo' neck-holes, so you jus' keep yo' damn han's to yo'self an' back away, or you be sorry!" she blustered.

Johnny's teeth clenched in rage at the sound of the raw fear in her voice; no-one was gonna make his baby-girls scared like that; he was supposed to look after them, and keep this kind of stuff from happening. Just then, a male voice, late teens by the sound of it, chimed in.

"Yeah, whatever; I heard 'bout this cousin o' yawn, I hear tell he ain't all that, and what I seen, I know fo' fact he ain't all that neither, he jest a big ole slow-learner, big 'n' stupid. Now, you gonna come quiet like, have some fun, an' be good li'l gals, or do we got to bust you up some first? Don't make no difference to me you 'wake or 'sleep, it still gonna be good fo' us!"

That did it for Johnny; those creeps were planning on taking his baby sisters whether they wanted to or not, and in his book, that meant just one thing: dead; they were gonna be dead, but they were gonna hurt bad first...

Looking through a gap in the cane he saw three strapping youths, dressed like typical farm hands, in plaid shirts with rolled sleeves, dusty jeans, and clumsy work boots standing in a half circle around the girls, cutting them off from any escape. The two girls, one dark and pale-skinned, the other a rich honey-blond, polar opposites, both of them pretty as a summer's morning, were holding each other tightly, a look of fear on their sweet faces he'd never seen before, and he saw red. In two quick strides he was through the cane, and as the largest of the boys, a hulking individual with a mop of greasy hair sensed him and half turned, Johnny punched him on the back of the head, sending him flying.

The other two turned in surprise, just in time for the one nearest him to catch a kick in the crotch that pulped his testicles. He dropped with a whistling scream, vomiting even as he clutched his genitals, but Johnny wasn't watching him, he'd already grabbed the third boy by his bunched shirt-front and flattened his face with a flurry of vicious jabs. The boy's face exploded in a welter of blood, his head snapping back from the force of the punches as Johnny's killing rage vented itself on him.

The feel of Odélie's hands tugging on his arm, and her voice, shouting, pleading with him, brought him back to his senses, his face flushed and his chest heaving as he fought to shove his rage back down inside.

"Johnny, Stop! Fuck, you gon' kill him, boy! Back it off, Johnny, he done. JOHNNY! Stop it, we OK, stop it, don' kill him, he ain't wuth it!"

The look of stunned shock on blonde Mélette's sweet little face as he glanced in her direction finally snapped him out of it, the rage flowing out of him as quickly as it had come, leaving him weak and breathless. He sank to his knees, overcome with shame at what he'd just done, at what he'd just shown his baby girls he was capable of, and both girls flung themselves on him, thinking he was hurt.

"Johnny, are you Ok? What you doin' here, how you get here, where you hurt, whut happen you, tu de'pouille, es-tu blessé? (are you OK, are you hurt?) Look at your han's, they covered in blood!" gabbled Mélette, but Odélie grabbed his face and pulled him around to look in his eyes.

"You OK now, Johnny? Husha, Mel, he OK, 's'not his blood, they ain't never laid a hand on him! Boy, Lil John, I was never so glad to see your sweet face, an' that God's truth; when you come bustin' outta nowhere and beat their punk asses, I near-on did what Maw-maw give me croton-oil for! Now I know what Jean-Noél say 'bout you the gospel's own truth; you a badass, Jean-Bastiènne, I jus' glad you our badass! How'n hell you get here jus' when we need you most?"

Johnny started to tell the girls about how he'd had a six-day leave saved-up so he'd come home to see his maw-maw when a piteous groaning dragged his attention away from his story, to where the boy he'd kicked in the crotch was still curled up in his own world of pain. The largest of the trio was out cold, and the one Johnny had battered was likewise out of action, blood bubbling from his flattened nose and between his split lips as he breathed. Johnny gently untangled the girls' arms from around his neck and leaned down to cuff him ungently, making sure he got his full attention.

"OK, you li'l frog's dick, who-all's idea was all this? You better answer up real quick, or I mo hurt you some more, an' your two li'l boyfrien's fast asleep, so that mean you got my undivided attention, you followin' me, asshole?"

Any bravado the boy might have felt died away when he saw his buddies lying battered, bleeding, and unconscious a few feet from him. He told Johnny everything, about how they'd seen the girls, two pretty teenage girls on a deserted street, and flagged them down on a pretext, jumped into the cab, and forced them to drive to this isolated part of Force Drive; his defense, that they weren't going to hurt them, just play a little, made Johnny's blood pressure and temperature start to rise, something the girls saw right away, so they pulled him away and made him call the sheriff instead. Johnny gave precise instructions to the dispatcher, and ten minutes later a deputy's cruiser rolled up.

The deputy called in assistance, and the three boys were cuffed and bundled into the backs of the cruisers while a deputy took the girls' and Johnny's statements and contact details. When they left, Johnny walked the girls back to their car, waited for them to turn, and then followed them home.

Mélette was quiet on the ride home; normally she was a chatterbox, but she was quiet all the way home, and took the tongue-lashing from Maw-maw for getting in such a pickle in silence. When their maw-maw had finished with the post-mortem, she hugged them both fiercely and told them they could stay home the next day, they'd had a real fright and needed time to recover. She never said a word of reproach to Johnny, and when he dropped by on his way back from helping his uncle, he found a fresh Bundt cake, his favorite, waiting for him.

*

Lying in their room that night, the two girls discussed the day's events. Odélie in particular couldn't seem to get the picture of Johnny erupting out of nowhere and saving the day out of her mind. Mélette, her twin sister, knew exactly what she was thinking; the same thing had been playing through her mind all evening.

"Mel? You 'sleep?" whispered Odélie.

"Are you kiddin'? I dunno if I can ever sleep again, not after today! Only good thing was li'l Jean-Bastiènne showin' up in the nick o' time an' kickin' those assholes through next week!"

There was a long, pregnant pause, then:

"Mel, you think Johnny got someone special, like? I mean, he always seem like he alone, I don' know anyone he dated, I don' think he ever dated anyone; you think he lonely?"

Mélette looked closely at the pretty brunette, pretty sure she knew what she was really asking her.

"Honey, whether he lonely or not, ain't nothing we can do 'bout it; Johnny a man grown, an' make his own choices; he leave to go make somethin' of himself, an' one day he choose the person he think right for him, mebbe he bring her back here, an' there ain't nothin' we can do 'bout it...no matter what we want for him...or what we want for our own self..."

Odélie's head snapped around to stare at her sister.

"Did you just say...?" and Mélette nodded unhappily.

"I know what you want, baby, I always did; I want it too, it's been all I wanted since I was li'l girl, same as you, but fact is, we too young, an' we ain't never gonna be what he wants, neither one of us; Johnny meet a girl one day, mebbe in the city, he marry her, an' that be that, an' we might as well 'cept it."

Odélie climbed out of her bed, and slid into bed with her sister, snuggling down against her like they had when they were young.

"When I was just six years ole I wanted to marry Johnny," she murmured. "He so big, an' nice to us, he allus look out for us, 'specially after mama an' papi gone; he jes' treat us like we somethin' precious to him, like he knowed we needed big brother to get us through, an' he jes' step-up an' step-in; remember how he allus take us frog-stickin' an' catfishin' when he din't have to, he so much older'n us but he real nice from the get-go, he buy us candy, an' he tell us scary stories; you remember? That one time when we was eight or nine he take us fishin' with him down the bayou an' we stayed in Big Jean-Bastiènne's fishin' shack at Ghost Lake, you remember that? He tell us 'bout parlangua, an' rougarou, an' to look away when we see the fifolet, an' how Marie Laveau come an' use gré-gré on us we don' behave..."

Mélette hugged her twin sister closer, her own memories of how Johnny had always been there for them crowding into her.

"Odie, you 'member how he allus take blame any time we mess-up, and he take a whuppin' from maw-maw for it? He never once let on whut we did, he jus' took it, an' he never take it out on us; maw-maw she beat him somethin' fierce but he take it so we din't have to; I used to think he so brave, doin' that for us, an' he never once held it over us, he never once say 'this what I do for you, now you owe me', he jes' keep on bein' Johnny and watchin' out for us."

She rolled onto her back and stared at the ceiling in silence for a moment, taking Odélie's hand when she stroked her hair.

"I 'member goin' to Ghost Lake, Odie," she murmured, "I 'member real clear, we so scared o' rougarou so he put thirteen beans 'cross the door so rougarou cain't come in, an' he promise on his mama's heart he keep rougarou an' all the other monsters 'way from us no matter what, you 'member that, Odie? An' now today..."

Odélie wrapped her arm around Mélette's waist and huddled against her sister, burying her face in Mélette's shoulder before speaking, her voice soft but still clear in the silence.

"Remember he tellin' us 'bout Père Malfait just a bidin' out in the swamp, waitin' fo' li'l gals who get lost in the swamps, so we got to stay close by him, how scared we was 'case Père Malfait come an' get us anyway? He say sorry for scarin' us so nice I wanted him to scare me some more, jus' so he can say sorry so nice all over again. Ever' time we need him, he there, he always there, ever' single time; why it so wrong to want someone that good for you? Tell me baby, 'cause it really hurtin' me inside..."

Mélette held her sister closer, tears brimming in her eyes as Odélie cried into her shoulder; for the first time the girls finally shared what they'd done privately so many times in the past, crying themselves to sleep over the one man in the world they were not allowed to want, who would never want them, and for what could never be.

*

Jean-Bastiènne Doucette stirred, momentarily disoriented before memory clicked back into place; he was back home, in Louisiana, in a motel room, he was Johnny B now, and his beautiful, hot little sister Justine was fast asleep next to him, warm and sweet and naked, her arm wrapped possessively around him and his arm asleep where her head rested on it. Even as he looked down at her, as if it was some kind of signal, her eyes fluttered open and she smiled sleepily up at him.

"Hello, Johneee Bear!" she murmured, "What you did to me, you bad, dirty bear! Now you've just gotta marry me, Mister Doucette, or I'll tell my big brother what you did to me, and you don't want him coming after you, he's real ugly and scary, and did I say ugly?"

Johnny grinned back at her.

"Ugly? Really? Guess I gotta punish you some for that, baby-girl...!" he smiled.

With that, his fingers poked into her sides, catching her unawares as he tickled her. Justine shrieked with laughter, writhing against him as she tried to get away.

"Stop it Johnny, no fair, you jumped me...!" she gurgled, trying to catch her breath amid all the torture and laughing.

"Take it back, Minou, or it's gonna get a whole heap worse!" he threatened, keeping tight hold of the giggling, squirming girl as he poked and prodded all her most ticklish places.

"Okay, okay, okay, I take it back, you're not scary...!" she laughed.

"An' ugly?" he prompted, grinning as she dimpled at him.

"Oh yeah, you're still ugly," she grinned, then kissed his chest, "but you're my special kind of ugly, 's why I'm keeping you, Big Bear!"

Johnny kissed the tip of her nose and rolled onto his back, taking her with him so she was lying on his chest, with his hands cupping her tight little butt-cheeks.

"I dunno 'bout you, Minou, but I need a shower, food, an' then we gotta hit the road; we already been here longer than we should, an' we runnin' out o' time if'n we wanna get to Houma ahead o' them New York dirtbags..."

Justine laid her head flat on his chest, listening to his heartbeat. She was silent so long Johnny thought she'd dropped off to sleep again, but when he patted her bottom she nodded.

"I know, Johnny-Bear, we've got to go; I was just enjoying the first real peaceful, quiet moment I've had in days. Let's go, shower's big enough for two, just keep your sneaky, wandering hands to yourself, I've got a boyfriend, and he's the jealous type..."

*

Johnny cracked the door open and slipped out of the room to have a quick look around while Justine dried her hair, a real task with the mop of long hair she had. Natural caution kept him in the shadows, with their room in clear sight, while he scoped-out the parking lot, looking for he didn't really know what, just anything that shouldn't be there.

As he slipped along to the end of the shady veranda shared by the four rooms making up the block, a black, late-model Dodge Nitro in the parking lot caught his eye; it wasn't the over-dark privacy glass that made his senses quiver, rather it was the rental tags and New York number-plate. Alarm bells began jangling, and he stepped back even further into the shadow cast by a large Honeysuckle growing against the side of the block of rooms, while keeping their room and the Nitro, the office, and the parking lot in full and unobstructed view.

Sure enough, after just a few minutes, three men in brand new fishing vests and Boonie-hats, obvious city boys, walked out of the office; they didn't look the type to go sport-fishing down this way, and the glittering watches and rings, expensive Ray-Ban Aviator mirror shades, designer loafers, and ostentatious gold bracelet chains they wore were completely out of keeping with the 'just good ole boys on a fishing trip' image they were obviously hoping to project.

When one of them turned slightly, Johnny's trained eye caught the bulge under his left armpit. As far as he was concerned, no-one on a legit sporting holiday should be toting around a concealed weapon in a shoulder-holster. The inference was clear; the Ribeiro gang had caught-up with them, and were a lot closer than he felt comfortable with; if he'd been alone, about now those three killers would be floating face down in Bayou Teche, a bonanza for any passing 'gator, but that would have to wait; he had to keep Justine safe, that was his first and only priority, so now was the time do a fast fade; taking care of business would have to wait...

Johnny ghosted along the veranda, keeping his eye on the three men as he did so, ready to duck down behind the railing if any one of them looked his way. Justine was just finishing packing her bag when Johnny slipped in and eased the door almost closed, leaving a narrow gap so he could watch the parking lot. His exaggerated caution screamed out to her that trouble was close, but she didn't panic; instead she swept the rest of their possession willy-nilly into the remaining travel bag and raised an enquiring eyebrow.

"They here baby-girl, three of 'em, standin' out like a whore in church; looks like they gettin' ready to move out; the truck's out back, so be ready; I give the word, we head around the back an' take to the back-country roads; looks like getting' to Houma might be a touch difficult, so instead we headin' over to noncle Lubin down along Bayou Petit Gaillou; they try comin' down there they find out real quick why ever'one down that way give Lubin a wide berth! You'll like him, he raise me, mostly, him an' Tante Maigrette, an' Tante Amice, an' maw-maw too, o' course; I'm named for his eldest son."

He peered through the gap while Justine hurriedly picked up the room, watching while one of the men pulled a radio handset from the Nitro and spoke briefly into it, before tossing it back through the open window.

Johnny chewed his lip thoughtfully; that was not good, not good at all; the handset was a short-range unit, so there was at least one other team in the vicinity looking for them. Johnny briefly thanked whatever it was that had prompted him to stash the Blazer out of sight; at least they wouldn't have to walk across that open, exposed parking lot; if they did it right, they could probably sneak away with no-one being any the wiser.

The room was paid for one night only. Caution again had prompted Johnny to pay cash, and Justine had scrunched down inside the Blazer so the clerk had probably never even seen her; for all he knew, Johnny was a lone businessman breaking a long trip with an overnight stay, so with any luck he'd have been completely unaware that the people those three had asked about were in his motel.

As he watched, the three men climbed into the Nitro and wheeled out of the parking lot, heading, as far as he could tell, in the direction of Highway 90; there was a Motel 6 and a Ramada Hotel out that way; maybe they were going to check them out. Wherever they were going, they were gone, and it was time he and Justy were out of there as well.

"You done, Minou?" He asked, and glanced back to see her patting and tugging her red wig in place.

Justine winked, grinned, and slid on a large, insectile pair of sunglasses, the wrap-around lenses effectively hiding most of her face.

"Ready when you are, Johnny-Bear; let's go!"

Johnny cautiously cracked the door open a little further, saw no sign of anyone taking any interest in their chalet-block, and, with his body shielding Justine from any casual observers in the diner, they quickly edged along the veranda, hopped over the low rail, and scooted to the Blazer. Johnny waited for Justine to climb in, urged her to huddle as low in her seat as she could while he slung their bags in the back, then slipped the car into 'Drive' and slowly pulled away in among the trees and shrubbery, heading South-East to pick up US 90 East before anyone realized where they were going.

Johnny was banking on their tail doubling back and staking-out Houma, not realizing their quarry was already heading almost due east on 90, away from Houma entirely. His intention was to leave US 90 on the Bayou Blue South turnoff and take the back- country roads through to Bourg and Bayou Petite Gaillou. It was a confusing enough route for folks who knew where they were going and knew the lay of the land; if all went well, any tail they picked up would almost certainly lose themselves hopelessly, hopefully permanently, in the maze of swamps, bogs, and bayous criss-crossing his intended route; if they didn't, well, there was still the family waiting for them...

As he drove, he dialled his grandmother's number from memory, and when she answered, he launched into a stream of Creole French too fast for Justine to follow, grinned at her, and snapped the phone closed.

"OK, Justy, maw-maw know we detourin' over by Bourg, an' why; hopefully we meet up with Lubin or one o' the boys afore long, meantime you-all rest, it's gon' be while yet."

Justine sat curled in her seat, the muted growl of the engine lulling her as she tried to organize and rationalize her feelings; apprehension about how Johnny's family were going to deal with who she was and what she and Johnny were doing warred with a generalized background fear of the people who were after them, along with a very specific fear for Johnny's safety now they were mixed up in some twisted blood-feud.