Krewe of No-Return

      James Johnson was known for being very laissez-faire in the way he used his credit card. While his friends were mostly settled down married or with kids, he still enjoyed living a carefree lifestyle composed of a lot of short fulfilling "I deserve it" weekend trips. Today marked his first day on a new adventure when he checked in on a late Friday night to his boutique hotel in French Quarters, New Orleans. With heavy eyelids and butterflies in his stomach, he made his way to his hotel room clutching a water bottle and a copy of the Mardi Gras parade schedule.

      "Tomorrow is going to be wild," he said as he excitedly turned on the TV.

      On-screen, there was the elected King of the Carnival caressing his flamboyant purple velvet crown and speaking with the local news reporter.

      "I, your King proclaim all my subjects shall be invited for a chance at catching a very special noble treasure in this bag!" he held out his large embroidered sack.

      "Is that so? And can his royal highness give us a little hint on where he'd be tossing this special throw?" the interviewer said giddied.

      "Not quite a hint, but I'd be out here bright and early for a good spot!" he said.

      "Oh, ladies and gentlemen watching from home... I'd set your alarm clocks if I were you!"

     The Carnival King nodded. He flaunted his multicolored beads, shuffled his embedded coins in his palm, and a foam boob that was censored on broadcast. Finally, he showed the unique one-of-a-kind necklace that he advertised. "And now the final item!" he said building suspense.

      "Wow, is that it?"

      "Indeed!" said the King holding it up to the camera. "Pieces of this special artifact belonged to the late Voodoo Queen's tombstone Marie Laeau who had a special affinity to the magic world.

      "Well!" the interviewer said. "Stones from her original tombstone before it was renovated. I-I find myself admitting, I'm getting a little verklempt just thinking about catching it! Are you sure you can't give us that hint, your highness?"

      "All I can say is, good luck and laissez les bon temps rouler! And to those out-of-towners, you'd best learn that phrase quickly! But for now, Happy Mardi Gras!"

      "Ladies and gentlemen watching, and there you have it!"

      James smiled then shut off the TV.

      *****

      The next morning James had only the luxury of a three-hour sleep when he woke up at 4 a.m.

      There was an obnoxious chattering of a woman outside his door.

      She was shouting on the speaker of her phone. "Like I said, the goddamn door won't open! Why you making me keep repeating this shit?"

      "Ma'am. Ma'am, listen to me."

      "And I'm not going back down there neither. Watch me slip on some stairs and have y'all stupid asses catch a case!"

      "Listen, listen, ma'am, keep it quiet now, you got good time right dere. You got good time."

      "Excuse me?"

      "Hold the keycard right on that dere for least three seconds."

      "I'm already doing that, it won't open!"

      "Well alright then, we'll activate anotha and have security bring it down dere."

      James held the pillow across his ears and cursed into his bed. "Shuttafuckup!"

      His vacation had already begun terribly, so he compromised for more sleep, setting his alarm to miss the Carnival King's Parade float. James was okay with it, as he could still catch a different one during his stay. He had been more eager for Bourbon Street instead, a place where his wildest drunken fantasies could run rampant.

      After his alarm rang again, James dressed up, went outside, and quickly noticed evidence of a party atmosphere. The streets were filthy with trash, broken beads, and plastic cups from the previous night's shenanigans.

      A smile painted his face. "This is my kind of fun!" he said cautiously stepping over a pool of vomit.

      "Happy Mardi Gras!" drunken people would pass in upbeat vacation moods.  

      James continued on Uptown as he marveled at the strangers showing enthusiasm for the culture by wearing elaborate crocodile-head hats, and green, yellow, and purple makeup. The energy of the city was at a high level and James was into it. The sight of people struggling to walk a straight line operating on an early morning diet of spiked coffees and 12-dollar daiquiris had only been encouraging for him.

      James continued looking for a quick stop for alcohol but instead found dozens of art stores and bookstores until the sounds of a live band beckoned him away. There were Jazz musicians all over the city playing well-known cover songs, and street musicians were playing acapella early 2000s R&B classics.

     A friendly promoter distracted him. "Hey brotha, we got fresh Jambalaya over here, fried oyster Po-boys, gumbo too...what chu in the mood for?"

      James smiled from ear to ear as he inspected the menu. "Man, this all looks pretty good too." His stomach seemed to be vibrating in Morse code for him to eat, but he was set out for the Beignets on the Bourbon Streets instead.

      "Don't overthink now." said the promoter.

      "How about a cocktail on a to-go cup instead?"

      "Well, we've got a man of a fine acquired taste. G'on in then. We gottchu."

      James began his fun day drinking not too far after, he continued to a few bars before finally heading to Bourbon Street where he enjoyed the craziness. James met a diverse crowd of strangers from party animals to some Christian missionaries that were occupying the center of the busy street.

      The cavalry of missionaries held out a giant cardboard cut-out of a cross while one guy preached to the public. "Ladies and gentlemen, I am here to offer you salvation. The holy book said, "There will be earthquakes, famines, and pestilences in various forms… " The ungodliness that is going on in city is our pestilence. Every day this city feeds into our vile temptations, repeating over and over and over and over again..."

      James tuned in for a second before he continued observing the people. He passed by a man dressed as a wizard with a giant picket sign that read "The End is Nigh!" Before heading to the main congested area. A few minutes more of pushing through the crowd and he admired people jumping up in delight as they clammed to get beads and doing everything they could to get their hands on them. James' eyes were erected watching people interacting with the balcony corner drunks.

     It was about 3 a.m. when he waddled back to his hotel room belching the night's mixed beer and rum, cheap greasy pizza, and alligator meat.

      ******

      An hour after at 4 a.m. James's worst nightmare came true.

      He was prematurely awakened again by the obnoxious neighbor.

      She yelled into her phone carelessly. James was so sick of hearing her voice a second day, that he slammed his hand against the door.

      "SHUT. UP. PEOPLE. ARE. FUCKING. SLEEPING!"

      The woman retaliated and hammered her fists back into his door.

    "The fuck you just say, bitch!?" She said.

      James had been filled with adrenaline, but he waited a few seconds hoping she'd go away and contemplating going out.

   Yet, she knocked again. "Open the door and say it again." She waited a bit more. "Well? Why you hiding back there, thought you had suttin' to say."

     She finally walked away. "That's what I thought," she said.

      James slept a lot longer that morning.

      On his second day, he set out on a new bucket list full of bar addresses to check out. He promised himself, that the last two days were for parades and sightseeing.

      The first bar James explored was a vampire-themed one. He had his fill of crawfish there before heading to another speakeasy and returning to Bourbon Street.

      The missionaries had been out again, repeating yesterday's speech.

     James went to a different dance club where he witnessed a twerking dance competition, then an hour later he discovered country-style clubs and line danced like a maniac. After James uncoordinatedly walked back to his hotel with beads around his neck that he won giving in to the crowd's chants, he threw up the last dinner of red beans and rice and Praline sweets from the confection shops.

      *****

      The next day and about two hours later, James was rudely awakened again by the same lady from the last few mornings. There seemed to always be something wrong with her hotel room keycard and always at 4 a.m..

      James took a deep breath and confronted her. He whipped open the door and stared her down with his bloodshot eyes. "Hey! Excuse me."

      "Huh?" the lady was caught off guard.

      She was a heavier-set woman dressed in a very revealing party outfit.

      "Seriously? Do you know what time-"

     "First of all." she pointed her finger at James's face. "I won't have you walk up on me like you know me. Now if you don't get back in your room with your triflin' ass."

      "But I swear lady-"

      "Ha!" she cackled. "I know DAMN well you ain't trying to start some shit with me when you're five foot nothing."

      "No, please. Just-

      "I said what I said, little man."

      James had been livid.

      He returned to his place muttering to himself. 

      He finally decided to call the help desk to complain.

      "This lady is tormenting me," he said before explaining his situation. "Three days with this same shit." he added.

      "Three days?!" asked the receptionist. "Mr. Johnson, first of all, I'd like to apologize for the inconvenience with the new occupant. We sent out a security guard to help her with the situation. If you'd like we can swap your room for your remaining stay."

      James sighed. "No, thank you. I'm leaving tomorrow."

      "Sir, so soon on your first day?"

      "No. This is my third day actually."

     "But, Mr. Johnson, am I mistaken or did I check you a few hours ago?"

      James blurted out a burst of hysterical laughter "Yeah, no." He said. "And I thought I was drinking." James set out for another long day of a fun time exploring NOLO-inspired cuisine.

      He clocked out around 10 p.m. that night.

      *****

      The next morning, James woke up at 4 a.m. to the same voice that resembled nails on a chalkboard or babies crying in an airplane.

      He slept a decent 6 hours this time so he had a little more composure.

      James opened the door slowly and the woman speaking into her phone looked him up and down.

      "Damn, another wrong keycard? That's three days in a row now," James said.

      "Yeah, tell me about it." the lady looked confused raising an eyebrow. "Three days? Yeah right, I just got into this dusty-ass town. My Uber driver couldn't drop me off by the hotel entrance because they shut down the major streets from the parade routes and so I had to walk just a mile and a half with this neon-green thong riding up my ass and since you're so curious my flight was delayed about 6 hours."

      "You serious right now?"

      "Yeah. I'm not in a mood for a wimpy short-ass Kevin Hart lookalike."

      "Damn, that's kind of cold but, I get you're having a shitty morning, I'll let you get back to it." James said as he walked back to his room. Everything inside him that was angry at her almost flipped around. He went back out and offered her a bottle of water then came back and laid silently on his bed to try and process everything.

      He felt a little bad for her, but It was hard because of how vulgar she was.

      James started to realize the strange similar mornings aligned with what the manager said. And the receptionist and the rude lady believed it was three days ago. James scrolled to his phone to find signs.

      The internet had always confirmed the date but he thought it was a malfunction.

      James took another quick nap and felt squeamish by the realization that he may have been stuck in some sort of time limbo.

      When the sun went up, James backtracked the bars from the last three days, and sure enough, the people he met had sworn they had never spoken to him before. The musicians from different bars all played their improvisations the same way.

      James met a lot of strangers for the first time, again.

      After a long night, he paced back to his hotel room walking lazily.

      He stopped drinking.

      The next few days, he woke up the same way at the same time at 4 a.m. again, three days before Fat Tuesday.

      He could hardly sleep anymore.

      James tried several experiments to shake up the repetition. Some days he would purchase hotel rooms in other parts of town, or take flights out of state, yet he would wake up again in the same boutique hotel. On other days, he would desperately try to stay awake, but it always happened right before the clock hit 4 a.m. when he woke up in his bedroom to the voice of a brutish lady. He saw Bourbon Street differently the next few days, it felt too unhinged for him. He knew New Orleans was fun and truly the city of "Laissez les Bon Temps Rouler" and "Letting the good times roll", but they rolled a little too much than what was his point of comfort.

      *****

      After three weeks, James started to appreciate things differently. While he was once a blissfully unaware tourist who had barely opened a travel blog before coming, he was now a connoisseur for the city. It helped that he had enough conversations with bartenders waiters and locals that he gained an appreciation for the city. He could now guide people on where the best local Jazz bands were playing, the kind that frequented Jazz-Fest during the Festivals. He can point to the most unique experiences in the city. James even tried his hands on cooking a few Creole dishes he learned from listening to the city's beloved Grandmas and Grandpas. He also memorized dozens of recipes for cocktails that Bourbon Street had perfected.

      *****

      After four weeks, James dove more into the cities history. He would explore bookstores often and libraries. It was then a conversation between one of the book merchants where he had learned more about Marie Laveau. Then he was reminded of the news story from his actual first day in the city. He remembered the King from TV said he would toss something that was desecrated from the voodoo Queen's tombstone.

      James had finally had his first clue.

     The next day he woke up in time for the parade. He was out in the streets following the beginning and ending route of the parade.

      The first day didn't go too well, James quickly realized he needed help.  

      James woke up the next few mornings well caffeinated with Kings Cake flavored hot coffee, and several fresh hundred dollar bills for people to bribe.

      He learned after one long day of begging which people were the most susceptible for quick cash and were honest enough to help him.

     There was a family from Alabama, a group of LSU college girls, and a couple of enthusiastic and determined homeless people. They would all be vigilant for the chance to win an easy 100 dollars for a cheap plastic souvenir. It was also fun for some of them to compete.

      It took a week later until James heard his name shouted out by one of the girls.

      "Hey, James! We finally caught it! We finna be rich!" said one of the girls. "It's the beads you wanted of the Voodoo Queen, right?!"

      "Thank God. Thank you, guys!" yelled James

      He paid the girls 100 dollars each.

      After grabbing the beads, he saw that they had symbolic trinkets decorated with skulls with top hats and little balls of resin containing the bits of the stones the King described.

      "This has to be it," James said. "It's finally going to happen."

      But, he knew he had to destroy it. He wouldn't risk tossing it in the Mississippi River or feeding it to a croc because, with his luck, he'd spend another week stuck in limbo.

      James instead went to LaFayette's famous Creole restaurant and had the hasty idea to sneak it into the kitchen where the cooks were boiling a hot batch of gumbo in a giant cauldron-sized pot.

He later returned and snatched the pot full of the soup of the day and tossed it all over the street where he joyfully observed the remains of the necklace, mostly left was sand and melted plastics. In hindsight, James should have rented a house and boiled it himself, but it was late at night and desperate times call for desperate measures.

    James couldn't wait to go back to sleep to test it.

      He took some sleeping pills and waited.

      He slept for a few hours until someone pounded into his hotel. He stared at the time and was relieved. After all that time, he was finally going to be able to get home. But, he felt a bittersweetness in him. After all this time wanting to leave, he might actually miss it. He looked through the peephole and wondered why there were two female NOPD officers.

      "Mr. James Johnson, please open the door." They knocked. "This is Officer Mackenzie and my partner Officer Coleman from the NOPD"

      "Yes? May I help you?"

      "Mr. James Johnson. Please open the door."

      "Fine," said James.

      The two officers turned James around and grabbed his wrists. "Hands behind your back. You have the right to remain silent-"

      "What!? This is a misunderstanding?"

      "... Anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law. You have the right to an attorney. If you cannot afford an attorney, one will be appointed for you."  

   "Please!"

      "Ahem. Mr. Johnson. Let me finish. Do you understand your rights?"

      James nodded. "Atleast this nightmare is finally over."

      "Oh, no. Mr. Johnson, it's only just begun." The other Police officers said. "We take burglary and tampering with food with intent to cause bodily injury or death extremely seriously around here. If I were you, I'd call your family and friends back at home and let them know you're gonna be in the Louisiana system for a very very long time."