Last Fair Deal Gone Down (A Nick Travers Short) - Plot & Excerpts
What I learned by watching was that others were doing the same. People mistrust people. Each of us pulses with our own agenda. In New Orleans, and particularly, in the French Quarter, those agendas cross frequently.That night I was in my own house of worship—JoJo’s Blues Bar, with both eyes closed tight as I chased a shot of Jack with a cold Dixie. Fats’ band banged out the last few chords of “Blue Monday,” his lazy sax matching my own black mood. Each drink softened that black mood into brown melancholy.A cold December drizzle rained outside. Cold droplets fell a muted pink along the window lit by JoJo’s neon sign, only a few regulars in the bar with ragged fedoras pulled low. JoJo’s niece Keesha, the only waitress on duty, tapped her foot slowly to Fats’ music. While she smoked, she read the Bible by dim candlelight.“Keesha, how ‘bout another Dixie?”“You know where they’re at.”And I guess I did. JoJo was my best friend and this was my second home. I took off my trench coat and old scarf and walked behind the bar.
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