The Unforgettable Vacation

All day long, my eyes kept looking at my “Homer Simpson” interactive digital clock. On Fridays, it would yell “woo hoo” when the workday was over. “Ten more minutes,” I said to myself while trying to think of ways to kill time. “I’ll just go to the restroom,” I thought to myself. On my way there, I ran into Lolita. Lolita used to be on our billing team, but transitioned into a higher paying position a couple of months ago. “Are you excited about your weekend getaway B?” she asked as a huge smile wiped across her face. “Very excited,” I replied half lying. This was the first time I would be going to another state alone. It’s true I was thrilled to be traveling to New Orleans, but I usually always traveled with my brother everywhere. Ever since he met his new boyfriend, Nico, he didn’t have time for his little sister anymore.

“Are you leaving right after work?” she asked. “Yep,” I replied. “I’m going to drive there.” “Make sure you be careful,” Lolita said. “I always been sort of afraid to go to New Orleans.” I raised my eyebrow and giggled. “Why? Because of the crime?” Lolita shook her head. “No, because of the voodoo queen.” I winced at Lolita’s comment. I didn’t believe in that at all. Of course, been spiritual and a tarot reader, you would think I would, but no way. “That’s just a myth,” I replied. “That lady died years ago.” “That’s what they want you to think,” Lolita said thumbing through her stack of paper. “Just be careful, I want to see you back here on Monday,” she said before walking away. I shook my head in disbelief, and proceeded to use the restroom. When I got back to my desk, It was 3:05. “Yes!” I thought to myself. “Not only did I kill time, but I got 5 minutes of overtime.” I clocked out, collected my things, and changed into my tshirt and tights before I got on the road.

The drive from Dallas to New Orleans was supposed to take 7 hours, but I made it in 6 and a half. It was almost 10 PM when I made it my hotel. I checked in, and anxiously walked to my room. The “Maison de la luz” was supposed to be one of the best hotels here, and it didn’t disappoint. Even though my room looked as though I was still in the early 1900’s, it also looked very modern. I walked around slowly, touching everything in awe. Having a room this amazing almost made me not care that my brother wasn’t here. Even though the drive here was long and boring, I still had a lot of energy. I wanted to mingle with the locals and have a drink or two. I jumped back in my car, and roamed the streets for bars. Almost every bar looked packed to capacity except for one. It had a few cars there, but nothing like the others. When I walked in, everyone turned around and stared at me. I mean, they stated for a LONG time. I was about to turn around until I heard someone from the bar yell, “Don’t you worry baby, they’re always like that with newcomers.” I approached the bar, and noticed an older woman, maybe in her 40’s pouring me a glass of Merlot.

“How did you know I wasn’t from here?” I asked as I sat down. “You walked in unsure of where you were,” she replied. “Locals know this place like the back of their hands.” I nodded and reached for the glass of Merlot. As the bartender passed it to me, I noticed her hands felt like ice. That was highly unusual for a night in July. As I sipped my drink slowly, I instantly started to feel so calm and relaxed. I began to notice the bartender’s features and the other guests appearances as well. Every one looked like they stepped out of a time machine. I know fashion repeats itself, but when was the last time you saw anyone wear petticoats and top hats? I swirled my chair back around and began to look at the bartender again. I could tell she had jet black hair, but she had it hidden underneath a giant headscarf. I was only 5’3, so she had to have been maybe 4’11. I could tell she was African American, but I knew people probably mistaken her for Caucasian because her skin was fair. “Do you want another one baby?” She said asked. I looked down at my glass realizing it was all gone. When I looked back up at her, her eyes were fixated on me. Her vibe felt friendly, but also a bit sinister. Going against my better judgement, I told her yes. As I began on my second glass, I felt someone sit next to me. I looked over, and my stomach instantly started doing backflips. This man was gorgeous! Unlike everyone else, he had on modern day clothing, and he felt so welcoming.

“How are you doing this evening?” he asked flashing a million dollar smile. “Better now,” I said taking a gulp of my wine. He looked down shyly, and back into my eyes. I knew then I was drunk. I never kept eye contact with anyone for longer than a second, but his green eyes had me hypnotized. They complimented his mocha colored skin so well. “How long are you here for?” He asked. “That’s funny,” I replied. “I didn’t tell you I was a visitor.” “No, but your accent did,” he said. Everyone always say that is Texans had accents, but I’ve never heard it. I don’t know if it was the Merlot, or maybe because it’s been months since I got laid, but invited this green eyed devil back to my room for a nightcap. When we got back to the hotel, I noticed the doorman greeted me and not my guest. “How rude!” I yelled as I stumbled onto the elevator. “It’s okay,” he said. “It’s not a big deal.” When we reached my floor, my mystery man became real fiesty. We began kissing and touching all over each other as if we have known each other for years. I haven’t had this kind of passion in a while, so I made sure I didn’t take any of it for granted. When we made it in my room, I threw him on the bed and began ripping his clothes off. When his shirt came off, I noticed he had a huge scar across his chest. I slowly reached out my hand to touch it, and he grabbed it instead to guide it to his penis. I nodded my head, and went back to into sex mode. From what I can remember, the night went on for hours.

The next morning, I woke up to breakfast waiting for me on the nearby table. “Good morning,” he said walking towards me smiling. “I hope you didn’t mind me ordering this for you.” “Not at all,” I said running over to the table. I felt so drained, and almost ravenously hungry. I usually don’t eat breakfast, so it was strange that I craved it this much. As I bit into my buttermilk pancakes, my guest sat next to me and stared. I looked up and bashfully looked away. He was even more handsome than I remembered last night. The sun rays that peeked through the blinds made the waves in his hair looked like they were moving like the sea. I can’t believe I had sex with someone so handsome! “Allow me show you my city,” he said. “It would be my honor to show you off.” I smirked at his prehistoric, outdated way of talking, but I obliged. We showered together, got dressed, and headed out the door. Once again, the doorman failed to acknowledge my guest, but this time, I called him out on it. “Do you not notice him as well?” I asked pointing to green eyes. The doorman’s face scrunched up, and he shook his head. “I’m sorry ma’am, but there—...” Green eyes grabbed me by the hand and quickly moved me towards my car. “What was that about?” I asked confused. “Oh, uh, I...” he said stammering over his words, “I just thought...” “They need to get a new doorman,” I said annoyed. “That was the second time he pulled that!” Green eyes looked as if he exhaled as sigh of relief and agreed. “Do you wanna drive?” I said handing him my keys. “Oh no!” He replied. “I wouldn’t feel comfortable driving your car this soon.” I smirked and told him that we were past using timelines with one another, considering last night. “Well, last night was technically our first date, and today will be our second. I trust you to drive my car.” “It’s okay,” he declined. “I never had a woman drive me anywhere, so I would like to experience that.” I raised my eyebrow, did he live under a rock? It seemed like normal experiences were unknown to him. As we traveled down Bourbon street, I asked him what was his name. “Pierre,” he said softly. “I’m Briana,” I replied. “I’m sorry I didn’t ask you that sooner, you must think I’m some kind of whore.” I joked. I felt Pierre’s eyes on me as he said “I’ve been around a few whores in my day, and you are far from one.” His comment left me kind of confused, what did he mean by “in my day?” This IS his day! After hours of walking around, doing some shopping and taking pictures, I was hungry again. I wanted to sit down and try beignets at this local mom and pop restaurant, but Pierre insisted that I should just order and we’ll bring it back to the room. I thought it was strange, but I agreed.

When we got back to the hotel, I told Pierre that I wanted us to take a selfie in front of this huge painting of what seem to be of successful African Americans from history. “I don’t look great in photos, but I’ll take it for you,” Pierre said. “Aww, c’mon I said! I want to have kind of reminder of you!” Pierre reluctantly walked over and posed with me. As soon as I snapped the photo, my phone went dead. “Damn it,” I said. “I knew I should’ve had this on the car charger.” On the way back to my room, the hallway seem darker, colder. I told Pierre that I had a bad feeling. He rest assured me that everything was okay, and held my hand. I slid my keycard through the door, and walked in feeling safe again. “See?” Pierre told me. “Nothing to worry about.” I made my way to bathroom to shower, and noticed that the light was on. I remember turning all the lights off when I left, so that was weird. Even if housekeeping came by, they would have enough sense to turn it off. I approached the door slowly as my heart began to beat uncontrollably. I turned the doorknob as quietly as I could in case someone really was on the other side. When I opened it, no one was there. “Whew!” I said to myself. I walked over the pull the shower curtain back, and the bartender was there! I screamed for Pierre, but he never came. “What’s wrong baby? I thought you were used to letting strangers come home with you.” I slowly began to head for the door, but she somehow locked it with just a blink of her eye. “Who are you?!” I asked. “What do you want with me?!” “You know who I am,” she said creeping closer to me. “Your coworker warned you about me before you left.” My mind instantly began to flash back to what Lolita said. “The voodoo queen,” I whispered. “I knew all it would take was a handsome stranger to lure you in,” she said. “Now that I got you, I no longer will have to stay in this body for another 100 years!” I couldn’t believe what I was hearing, tears began to fall down my face. I knew I should’ve stayed home! How foolish was I to ignore the signs?! There she was now, inches from my face, her skin now wrinkled and her eyes were nothing but black, hollow holes. I closed my eyes to brace for impact, but the door flew open. It was the hotel concierge. “Ms. Turner, are you okay? Other guests heard you screaming.” I looked around the room, she wasn’t there. I looked back up at him frantically. “She was here!” I repeatedly said. “Who was here?” He asked concerned. “The voodoo queen! I saw her! She wanted to take my body!” The concierge pulled me off the ground and took me to the security office on the first floor. I knew he thought I was off my rocker. For the next hour, I explained everything. The bar, the bartender, and Pierre. Everyone kept telling me that they either didn’t see Pierre leaving or the voodoo queen in the bathroom on the security cameras. I know I didn’t imagine this did I? The security officers told me that maybe I should go back to the room to rest since I have had a long day. All of them but one. When they left, he stayed behind. “Don’t you think I’m crazy too?” I asked. “No,” he said. “I believe you.” Surprised, I asked him why. “Follow me,” he said. We went back outside to the huge painting that I took a selfie of. “Look at those two,” he said pointing to what looked like to be Pierre and the voodoo queen. “Back in the 1880’s, these two were said to be into voodoo. They were married for a while, but once she started to go down the road of black magic, he left her.” “You have got to be kidding me!” I said. “You mean to tell me, I’ve been on a date with a ghost?!” The security guard stared at me for a while. “Maybe, but that ghost saved you too.” My mind flashed back to Pierre’s outdated lingo and the fact that the doorman never saw him. “Oh my God,” I said. “I think you’re right.” I didn’t sleep much that night, and I couldn’t wait to leave the next morning. On the drive home, I turned my phone on and looked through all the pictures I have taken while I was in New Orleans. When I got to the picture Pierre and I took, my heart stopped. There I was in my 2021 clothes, and there Pierre was in his 1880s suit and hat. This couldn’t be real! I tried sending the picture to my brother and friends, but it kept failing to send. I pulled over and sat there for a while. All of this because of a glass of Merlot. Why me? Why did he choose to save me? I guess I would never know. As soon as I began to drive off again, I received a text from an unknown number. “My apologies for betraying you, but I couldn’t let you know the truth about me. You are a pure soul, and the world deserves to keep enjoying you as much as I have. I hope to see you again in the afterlife. -Pierre”