Chrono Nexus – Rivière du Temps
Copyright © 2024, by Paul Kelemencky
Published by ZenInBlack Publishing, LLC. All rights reserved.
No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except as permitted by U.S. copyright law.
The story, all names, characters, and incidents portrayed in this production are fictitious. No identification with actual persons (living or deceased), places, buildings, and products is intended or should be inferred.
Revision 20241015
Chapter 7: Chicken and Waffles
The Creole House, usually a bustling hub of Mardi Gras revelry, now stood as a testament to the city’s transition from unbridled celebration to somber reflection. Stray beads and confetti still glinted in the morning light on the wrought-iron balconies, like memories refusing to fade. Inside, the atmosphere had shifted to quiet contemplation, mirroring the city’s collective exhale as Carnival season ends.
The ever-present aroma of freshly brewed chicory coffee mingled with the comforting scents of traditional Creole brunch fare, creating an olfactory embrace that welcomed patrons seeking solace and continuity. The clink of dishes and muted conversations formed a gentle backdrop, a marked difference from the raucous laughter and music that had filled the air just the day before.
Zara Bennett leaned against the polished wooden counter, her cornrows catching the soft light filtering through the windows. She chatted animatedly with the hostess, her grey eyes frequently glancing towards the entrance. Her bejeweled fingernails drummed an impatient rhythm on the countertop, betraying her excitement.
“My friends should be here any minute,” Zara said, her voice a mix of anticipation and barely contained energy.
The hostess flashed a bright smile, her glittery purple eyeshadow still totally giving post-party vibes. “Oh my god, Glossy Girl, it’s always such a vibe when you show up! It’s been, like, forever since you blessed us with your energy.” She stopped for a second, noticing Zara fidgeting. “Wait, girl… you’re giving me anxious energy. What’s up? You good?”
Zara’s smile slipped for just a sec before she pulled it back together. “Yeah, I mean… it’s been a lot lately, you know? Still kinda wrapping my head around everything.”
The hostess gave her a knowing look. “Girl, same. This city? It’s a whole rollercoaster. Mardi Gras might be done, but the grind? Oh, it’s just starting.”
Just then, the distinctive sound of a streetcar grinding to a halt echoed outside. Zara’s face lit up as she saw Jack and Belle crossing from the stop. Jack adjusted his fedora, his green-gold eyes scanning the restaurant with a wary expression, while Belle’s eyes sparkled with curiosity and a hint of fatigue.
“There they are!” Zara exclaimed, rushing to greet them. As she approached, she noticed the slight slump in Jack’s shoulders and the dark circles under Belle’s eyes. The weight of recent events hung over them like a heavy cloak.
“Jack! Belle! Glad y’all made it,” she said, her enthusiasm tempered by concern.
“Of course, babygirl,” Jack drawled, a hint of his Cajun roots coloring his speech. He studied Zara’s face, noting the tension around her eyes. “Why so excited? You’re bouncing like a crawfish in a hot pot.”
Zara’s gaze flicked nervously around the restaurant before settling back on Jack. “You’ll see,” she replied, barely containing her excitement. “Just sit tight. Trust me.”
Belle, ever the warm presence, stepped forward and handed Zara one of the small amulets she’d crafted. Her movements were slower than usual, her energy drained from the previous night’s ceremony. “I made this for you last night during the new moon ceremony. For protection,” she explained, her voice carrying the gentle lilt of her mixed Creole heritage. She squeezed Zara’s hand as she passed over the amulet, a gesture of comfort and solidarity.
Zara’s fingers closed around the amulet, her eyes softening. She took a deep breath, some of the tension visibly leaving her body. “Thank you, Belle. I can feel the energy already.” She paused, searching Belle’s face. “How are you holding up after yesterday?”
“I’m alright, cher.” Belle’s tired but genuine smile said, ” I just need some good food and better company to recharge. Plus, I love this place’s simplicity and elegance. The food reminds me of back home in Bayou Dulac.”
Belle looked around the restaurant’s interior. She admired the exquisite moldings and walls adorned with captivating portraits of local jazz legends. The dining area had simple yet charming, well-worn square wooden tables, each with four chairs, reminding Belle of the simple wooden kitchen table from her childhood. Pristine white cloth napkins, neatly wrapped around the utensils, grace each vacant table, creating an inviting setting.
As the hostess led them to a quiet table off to the side, Jack couldn’t help but notice the subtle shift in the restaurant’s atmosphere. At nearby tables, a mix of bleary-eyed locals and tourists nursed their Mardi Gras hangovers. Some still wore smudges of glitter or face paint, clinging to the last vestiges of the celebration. Others, already marked with the ash cross of Lent, sat in contemplative silence over their steaming cups of coffee.
A waitperson approached with menus, but Zara waved them away. “Don’t need those. Chicken and waffles all around,” she announced with the confidence of a local who knew the best comfort food for a post-Mardi Gras morning.
Jack smiled, appreciating Zara’s decisiveness. “Well, I guess that’s settled. And a coffee for me, black as the bayou at midnight.” He sat back in his chair, his eyes never leaving Zara’s face, trying to decipher the mix of emotions playing across her features.
“Me too,” Belle added, her voice soft but clear, as she absentmindedly touched the talisman around her neck. “And a glass of water. Need to cleanse after all that Mardi Gras indulgence.”
As they settled in, Zara kept glancing towards the entrance. Her excitement buzzed like a crowd waiting for the Zulu parade. Her leg bounced under the table, a nervous energy radiating from her. Jack’s observational instincts kicked in, his curiosity piqued by her behavior. He leaned closer, placing a gentle hand on Zara’s arm to still her movements.
“What’s going on, Zara?” he asked, his voice low and concerned. “You’re more jittery than a cat in a room full of rocking chairs. And don’t tell me it’s just a Mardi Gras comedown.”
Zara met his gaze, conflict clear in her grey eyes. She opened her mouth to speak, then closed it again, glancing at Belle for support. The unspoken words hung between them, as tangible as the beads and doubloons that littered the streets outside.
* * *
Before Zara could answer, a collective murmur from the patrons grew to applause and cheers that drowned out their conversation. The sudden commotion sent a jolt through Jack’s system, his senses heightened by the unexpected shift in atmosphere.
Avery Monroe, the famous food critic and social media sensation, walked in, flanked by his entourage. An air of excitement drifted through the room, mingling with the rich aroma of the restaurant’s fare.
Jack’s eyes widened in recognition, his pulse drumming like a second line in full swing.. At 30, Avery cut an impressive figure—lean and athletic, with stylishly cut blond hair and striking blue eyes that seemed to take in every detail of the room. His designer casual wear and charismatic demeanor marked him as every inch the high-profile media personality.
But it wasn’t Avery who caught Jack’s attention. His gaze fixed on the two ominous figures trailing behind—identical twins with sharp eyes and expressionless faces. The same men he’d seen earlier that morning, their presence now feeling less like coincidence and more like fate. Jack’s anxiety rose like the Mississippi before a flood, and he fought the urge to bolt from his seat.
Belle slid closer, her voice a whisper. “Jack, you look like Baron Samedi just walked in. What’s wrong?”
Before Jack could respond, Zara nudged them both, her voice low but urgent. “Pay attention. This is big.” The excitement engulfed her like a viral hashtag taking off while dread built in Jack’s chest.
Jack’s heartbeat was as erratic as the rhythm of a jazz drummer improvising wildly as the hostess pointed toward their table. Avery’s gaze swept the room before landing on Zara. His face broke into a broad smile as he quickly approached, the twins following at a measured pace.
“Glossy Girl!” Avery exclaimed, his voice carrying the polished enthusiasm of a seasoned TV personality. “It’s a pleasure to finally meet you in person. Your posts about New Orleans cuisine are absolutely captivating.”
Zara beamed, her grey eyes sparkling. “Avery, the pleasure is all mine! Your work has been an inspiration. I can’t wait to show you some of the hidden gems of our local food scene.”
Jack’s mind raced through possible scenarios. Were the twins here for him? Did they know about his time-shifting abilities? He glanced at Belle, who was watching him with concern, her brow furrowed.
“Avery, these are my friends, Jack and Belle,” Zara introduced, her voice betraying a hint of nervousness.
Avery extended a hand, his manner warm and genuine. “Nice to meet you both. Any friends of Glossy Girl are friends of mine. I hear you’re quite the expert on New Orleans history, Jack. Perhaps you could share some insights for my upcoming feature?”
Jack forced a smile, shaking Avery’s hand. “I’d be happy to,” he managed, his voice sounding strained even to his own ears.
As they exchanged pleasantries, the twins stood silent, their eyes scanning the room, finally focusing on Jack. Their stares were intense, almost as if they recognized him from somewhere. Jack met their gaze, his unease growing. He could feel a familiar tingling at the base of his skull, a precursor to a time shift. Not now, he thought desperately, gripping the edge of the table to steady himself.
Belle, noticing Jack’s distress, smoothly interjected. “Avery, I’m curious about your take on the fusion of traditional Creole cuisine with modern techniques. It’s a hot topic among the locals.”
Avery’s eyes lit up, and he launched into an enthusiastic response. Jack shot Belle a grateful look, using the moment to regain his composure.
“Mr. Monroe,” one of the twins said, their voice eerily synchronized. “We should discuss the arrangements for your meetings today.”
“Of course,” Avery replied, turning back to Zara. “We’ll catch up later, Glossy Girl. I’ve got some business to attend to, but I’m looking forward to our collaboration. Perhaps we could meet this week to discuss the details?”
Zara smiled, her piercings sparkling as she responded. “Absolutely! I’ll message you later to set it up.”
As Avery and his entourage moved towards the back, the twins glanced back at Jack one last time before disappearing into the crowd. Jack exhaled slowly, the tension in his shoulders easing slightly. The tingling sensation faded, leaving him feeling drained.
Belle placed a comforting hand on his arm. “Jack, what’s going on? You look like you’ve seen those men before.”
Zara leaned in, her excitement barely contained. “Guys, you won’t believe the opportunity Avery’s offering me. But first, Jack, spill. What’s got you so spooked?”
Jack took a deep breath, his secrets pressing down on him. He looked between Belle and Zara, knowing he owed them an explanation but unsure where to begin. “It’s a long story,” he began, his voice low. “And it’s tied to everything that’s been happening. Those twins… I think they’re the two Skull and Bones figures that followed me yesterday.”
Zara’s eyes widened, and Belle’s grip on his arm tightened. As Jack prepared to delve into his explanation, he couldn’t shake the feeling that they were all standing on the precipice of something much bigger than they had imagined.
* * *
Zara turned to Jack and Belle, her eyes sparkling with excitement. She glanced around to make sure no one was listening, her voice barely audible over the clinking of silverware and the jazz rendition of “Do You Know What It Means to Miss New Orleans” playing softly in the background. The aroma of Jack’s coffee mingled with the rich scent of butter and spices from the kitchen.
“Okay, you two,” Zara began, her smile widening. “Here’s the big news. Avery Monroe invited me to be part of a New Orleans-based social media production focused on cooking and local cuisine. We’re talking major exposure, y’all!”
Jack’s eyes widened in surprise, and Belle’s expression mirrored his. “Cher, that’s amazing!” Belle exclaimed, genuinely happy for her friend. “Your talent’s finally getting the recognition it deserves. I can already imagine you sharing your secret remoulade sauce recipe with the world!”
Zara nodded vigorously, her facial piercings glimmering in the light from above. “I know, right? It’s a huge deal. Avery’s been following my posts for a while now, and he loves the way I highlight New Orleans culture and food. He thinks I have the potential to bring something fresh and authentic to his platform. Maybe I’ll even get to showcase Treme’s hidden gem restaurants!”
Jack forced a smile, his eyes darting nervously to the twins at Avery’s table. They seemed engrossed in conversation, but he couldn’t shake the feeling they were watching him. He shifted in his seat, the old wooden chair creaking beneath him. “That’s fantastic, Zara,” he said, his voice low and thoughtful. “But it sounds like a big step. Are you ready for something like this? The spotlight can be harsh, especially in this city. Remember what happened to that chef who claimed he invented the muffuletta?”
“I’ve never felt more prepared,” Zara declared with enthusiasm. “This is such a great way to level up my online presence. Avery’s crew is the best, and their following is insane. It’s my moment to shine with my cooking and show off the vibrant culture of New Orleans, like Cajun, Creole, gumbo, and étouffée!”
Belle squeezed Zara’s hand, her eyes warm with support. “We believe in you, Zara. You’ve got the passion and the talent. This is your chance to shine even brighter, to be a voice for our community.”
Jack agreed, trying to focus on Zara’s excitement despite his growing unease. He glanced again at the twins, catching one of them staring directly at him. His palms grew sweaty, and he instinctively touched the protective amulet Belle had given him earlier. “We’ve got your back, Zara,” he said. “Just remember to stay true to yourself and your roots. That’s what makes you special.”
As Zara continued to share her plans, Jack found his attention divided. He was genuinely happy for his friend, but he couldn’t shake the feeling that this new opportunity might somehow be connected to the larger mystery. The twins’ presence, Avery’s sudden interest in Zara, the timing of it all – it felt too perfect. As the savory aroma of Creole cooking filled the air, Jack resolved to keep a watchful eye on the unfolding situation, determined to protect his friends while unraveling the enigma that seemed to be tightening around them all.
* * *
As they continued their conversation, their chicken and waffles arrived, bringing a waft of sweet maple syrup mingled with the savory aroma of crispy fried chicken. The clatter of plates and silverware blended with the low hum of conversation, creating a comforting backdrop of restaurant ambiance. Jack’s eyes scanned the bustling dining area, the tension heightened by the lingering presence of Avery Monroe and the twins.
Suddenly, Jack’s attention was drawn to the entrance. His heart skipped a beat as he recognized two familiar faces. “Jeff? Lynda?” he muttered under his breath, squinting to get a clearer view. His mind raced, trying to make sense of this new timeline variation. Was this a glimpse into a world where neither had died? Or something else entirely?
“What’s wrong?” Zara asked, picking up on Jack’s sudden change in demeanor.
Jack shook his head slightly, still processing what he was seeing. “Jeff and Lynda. They’re here.”
Belle turned her attention to Jack, concern etching her features. “Is everything alright, cher?”
Before Jack could respond, Zara’s phone buzzed. She glanced at it, and her expression shifted. “Jack, check your phone,” she said, her voice low and urgent.
Jack reached into his pocket, pulling out his phone to see a text from Reggie. ‘Got Jeff out. Everything’s under control. Stay safe.’
“Reggie got Jeff from police custody,” Jack leaned into Zara, his voice barely above a whisper. “But he’s right here.”
Zara’s eyes widened, a mix of confusion and excitement dancing in their grey depths. “OMG, Amaze balls! Never a dull moment with you, Jack. This is giving me major multiverse vibes! Spill the tea, Jack. What’s the sitch?”
Jack frowned, his mind racing to make sense of the conflicting realities. He thought to himself, ‘Time isn’t just a straight line. It’s more like a web of possibilities, each decision creating a new branch. Somehow, I’m seeing two branches at once – one where Jeff’s in custody, and one where he’s here with Lynda. But why? And how?’
Belle, noticing their hushed conversation, asked, “What are you two whispering about?” Her eyes focused, a mix of concern and frustration crossing her face. She sensed she was missing something important, something beyond her understanding of Voodoo and the spiritual world.
Zara broke the silence, her tone surprisingly light. “Just serving up some hot goss about these waffles. They’re totally slaying, right Jack?”
Belle’s eyes narrowed slightly, clearly not buying the deflection. Jack managed a sarcastic, “Tru dat,” his Cajun drawl more pronounced in his distraction.
Jack looking over at Zara, shifted uncomfortably in his seat. Damn, he thought. Zara winked at Jack.
Zara understood the awkwardness Jack faced. She experienced Jack’s time shifts with him. Belle, did not. Jack had devoted countless nights attempting to elucidate his experiences to Belle. Despite her empathy and efforts to comprehend the notion of divergent timelines, Belle’s medical background struggled to reconcile this reality with Jack’s situation. She simply couldn’t fathom the nature of his ordeals.
Meanwhile, Jeff and Lynda sat down a few tables away. Their faces were tense, clearly in the midst of an argument. Lynda gestured sharply while a frustrated Jeff sat quietly, his shoulders hunched.
Belle’s gaze lingered on them, her empathic nature picking up on the tension. “I’ve never seen them like that. Something’s not right.”
As Jeff and Lynda’s argument escalated, one of the twins approached their table and whispered in Jeff’s ear. Jack tensed, his hand instinctively moving towards the amulet Belle had given him earlier.
“Yikes on bikes,” Zara murmured, her eyes darting between Jack and the unfolding drama. “This is giving me major secondhand anxiety.”
Lynda abruptly stood up, her chair scraping loudly against the floor. A glass of water crashed to the ground as she rose and stomped out of the restaurant, her face a mask of fury.
“Oh, shit!” The exclamation echoed through the restaurant as Jeff stood, pushing the twin out of his way and chasing after Lynda.
“Well, that’s one way to exit stage left,” Zara quipped, trying to lighten the mood. “Talk about a plot twist!”
“Just the new moon,” Belle interjected, her voice carrying a hint of mystical knowledge. “It tends to bring out intense emotions.” She paused, fixing Jack with a penetrating stare. “But I reckon there’s more to this story than you’re letting on, cher.”
Jack, now at a complete loss, sat silently, his mind whirling with the implications of multiple timelines and the mysterious presence of the twins. As he watched Jeff disappear through the door after Lynda, a chill ran down his spine. He couldn’t shake the feeling that this moment, this convergence of timelines, was a crucial piece of the puzzle. It was a warning – or perhaps an opportunity.
Just then, his phone buzzed again. Another message from Reggie: ‘Jeff’s gone. Ditched me. No trace.’
Jack’s blood ran cold. He looked up at Belle and Zara, his face pale. “We’ve got a problem,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper. “A big one.”
* * *
As the twin walked away from Jeff’s abandoned table, Jack noticed a small black book left behind. Without thinking, he stood up, his pulse quickening.
“Everything okay, cher?” Belle looked concerned, her intuition sensing Jack’s unease.
“Yeah, just need the facilities,” Jack lied smoothly, years of gig work making the deception effortless. The din of clinking cutlery and animated conversations provided a perfect cover for his true intentions.
He casually walked through the busy dining room towards Jeff and Lynda’s table, the hectic pace of the dining room waitstaff covering his movements. As he passed by, he reached down to grab the book. Just as his fingers brushed the worn leather cover, a large hand landed on top of his.
Slowly, Jack followed the muscular arm upward to see one of the twins staring intently at him. The man’s eyes were cold, devoid of emotion, like chips of ice in a frozen wasteland.
“What do you think you’re doing?” the twin asked, his voice low and menacing, a growl barely audible over the restaurant’s ambient noise.
Before Jack could respond, the other twin appeared in front of him, looking at his partner and shaking his head almost imperceptibly. The twin holding Jack’s hand looked disgusted but let go and walked away, leaving behind the faint scent of expensive cologne.
Jack’s heart pounded as he quickly scooped up the book and headed back to his table. The weight of the small volume felt far heavier than it should, as if it carried the secrets of the universe within its pages. His mind raced, trying to process what had just happened. Why were the twins so interested in this book? And why did they let him take it?
“Jack, what in the world are you doing?” Belle’s voice was laced with concern. She had seen everything, her keen eyes missing nothing.
“I was hoping to find a clue,” Jack admitted, his voice low. “Something about those twins… they’re connected to all of this somehow. I can feel it in my bones.”
“Okay, then, what ya got?” Zara leaned in, her curiosity piqued, her eyes wide with excitement.
Jack opened the book, his fingers trembling slightly. “Some sort of diary,” he muttered, thumbing through the pages. The musty scent of old paper, tickling his nose. “Looks like a travel log.”
“Anything interesting?” Zara squinted, trying to read upside down, her perfectly manicured nails tapping impatiently on the table.
“Amazingly, nothing,” Jack sighed, about to close the diary. His disappointment was palpable, settling heavily in his stomach.
But Zara, her instincts honed by years of social media sleuthing, grabbed it. “Let me see, boo.” She scanned the pages quickly, her eyes lighting up as she discovered a folded-over page near the end. “Belle, what do you think of this?”
Belle took the diary, studying the folded page for a few moments. Her brow furrowed in concentration, her fingers tracing the symbols with a familiarity that surprised Jack. “I don’t know what these symbols are,” she said slowly, her Creole accent becoming more pronounced as she focused, “but this last picture… it’s a map.”
“Really?” Jack leaned in, his interest rekindled, the scent of Belle’s perfume momentarily distracting him.
“Yes, and it looks like there are pages missing—torn out,” Belle added, her fingers tracing the ragged edges where pages had been removed.
Jack took the diary back, his investigative instincts firing on all cylinders. “Damn…”
“And, Jack,” Belle continued, her voice low and intense, her eyes meeting his with a mixture of excitement and trepidation, “I know where this place is.”
Jack stared at Belle. “Where?”
“It’s near where we grew up,” Belle replied, her eyes clouding with memories. “In the bayou, not far from Mama’s old place. I remember exploring those parts as a child, always feeling like there was something… hidden there. Mama used to warn me about venturing too deep into that area. Said there were old spirits there, ones that didn’t take kindly to intruders.”
Jack was about to speak but noticed Jeff talking with the hostess near the entrance. Acting quickly, he pulled out his cell phone and snapped pictures of the mysterious pages, the camera’s soft click barely audible over the restaurant’s buzz.
“I need to return this before Jeff notices it’s gone,” Jack said, standing up, his mind already racing with possibilities.
He rushed over to Jeff, forcing a casual smile onto his face. “Here you go, Jeff,” he said, holding out the diary.
Jeff looked at him suspiciously. “Do I know you?”
Jack’s stomach dropped, a cold realization washing over him. Jeff didn’t know him in this timeline. The implications of this sent a chill down his spine, his mind reeling with questions. How much had changed? What else was different in this version of events?
Forcing himself to stay calm, Jack covered smoothly, “Oh, no. I just heard your name mentioned earlier. I noticed this on the floor on my way to the restroom and was just bringing it over to the hostess.”
Jeff took the diary, his eyes narrowing. “Okay, thanks,” he said curtly before leaving quickly.
Jack returned to the table, his mind buzzing with this new development. Belle and Zara looked at him expectantly, their faces a mixture of concern and curiosity.
“Everything okay, cher?” Belle asked.
“Yeah,” Jack replied, trying to sound more confident than he felt. “Just another piece of the puzzle. But we’ve got a bigger problem. Jeff… he didn’t recognize me.”
Belle’s eyes widened trying to grasp what that meant, while Zara pull jack close, her voice barely above a whisper. “Another timeline shift, right?”
Jack nodded.. “Looks like it. We’re in deeper than we thought, and I have a feeling that map is going to lead us right into the heart of it all.”
* * *
Unexpectedly, a youthful female approached their table, her crisp outfit and businesslike manner identifying her as a member of Avery’s team.
“Ms. Bennett,” she addressed Zara, “Avery would like you to join us to discuss the project. Can you spare a moment?”
Zara smiled. Her eyes sparkled with excitement. She glanced at Belle, an idea forming. “Of course. Can my assistant, Ms. St. Pierre, join us?”
The assistant hesitated, her eyes flicking between Zara and Belle. “If she must,” she conceded reluctantly.
Zara and Belle exchanged a quick, triumphant smile. As they stood to follow the assistant, Zara leaned in close to Jack.
“I know, Jack,” she whispered, opening her hand to reveal Belle’s amulet. “Watch the twins; I notice everything.”
She kissed Jack on the cheek, a gesture of reassurance and affection. “Okay, babygirl,” Jack said, as Zara and Belle followed the assistant to Avery’s table.
Left alone, Jack’s mind raced with the implications of everything that had transpired. The multiple timelines, the mysterious twins, Jeff’s diary – it all swirled in his head like a complex gumbo of intrigue and danger. He sipped his coffee, the rich flavor steadying him in the present moment.
Suddenly, a familiar presence slid into the seat across from him. Jack looked up, his surprise melting into a mixture of relief and wariness as he saw Jasmine, resplendent in a shimmering gown that seemed out of place in the subdued atmosphere. Her outfit sparkled like the scales of a swamp mermaid, drawing curious glances from nearby diners.
“Jack, honey,” Jasmine said softly, her voice as seductive as a moon lit night on the bayou. “You’re getting lost in the sauce when you should be focusing on the roux.”
Jack frowned. “What do you mean? There’s so much happening, Jasmine. How am I supposed to know what’s relevant?”
Jasmine drew close, her perfume mingling with the aroma of simmering gumbo and blackened catfish. “Listen close, sugar. You’re struggling with these random time shifts, aren’t you? But have you noticed how Zara navigates them like a fish in water?”
Jack’s eyes widened with realization. His mind raced, trying to connect the dots between Zara’s unique perception of time and the mysteries surrounding Jeff and Lynda. The pieces were there, but the picture remained frustratingly unclear. “Now that you mention it, yeah. She always seems to know exactly where – and when – she is.”
“That’s because, for Zara, time has always been disjointed,” Jasmine explained, her long, bejeweled nails stroking Jack’s forearm. “She can’t comprehend linear time the way you do. And that, my dear, is why you two are perfect for each other.”
Jack was intrigued, the clink of silver cutlery and the low murmur of diners fading into the background. “How so?”
Jasmine paused, her gaze drifting to the bustling kitchen visible through an arched doorway. The rhythmic chopping of vegetables and sizzle of pans provided a momentary respite from the intensity of their conversation. When she turned back to Jack, her eyes held a new intensity.
“You and Zara complement each other like red beans and rice,” Jasmine continued, her eyes twinkling like fairy lights. “Your linear perspective and her fluid one – together, you can navigate the complexities of time in ways neither of you could alone. You need to help each other reconcile your individual relationships with time.”
Jack sat quietly, processing this information as he absently traced the rim of his coffee cup. “But how does this connect to Jeff’s disappearance? To Lynda’s death?”
Jasmine squeezed his hand reassuringly, her touch warm like the New Orleans night air. “Ever heard of the Rougarou, cher? That old Cajun legend might not be just a story. The twins are guardians of something old, something powerful. And it’s hidden right under everyone’s noses.”
“What do you mean?”
“Pay attention to what Zara discovers about Avery’s place,” Jasmine advised, her voice barely audible above the buzz of dining room conversations. “The answers you seek are simmering in that pot. But remember, in New Orleans, the most important things often hide behind the glitter and shine.”
As Jasmine stood to leave, her gaze drifted to where Belle and Zara were deep in conversation with Avery. A mischievous glint appeared in her eyes. “Well, sugar, looks like it’s time for me to make a grand exit.”
Jack watched, bemused, as Jasmine sashayed over to the group, her sequined gown sparkling in the dining room lights.
“Belle, darling!” Jasmine exclaimed, air-kissing Belle’s cheeks. “Aren’t you going to introduce me to your fabulous friends?”
Belle, momentarily flustered, gestured to the others. “Of course. Jasmine, this is Zara and Avery Monroe.”
Jasmine turned to Avery, her eyes focused and inviting. “Well, hello there, handsome. I bet you could whip up something delicious for little old me.” She winked, causing Avery to blush and stammer.
Zara’s eyes widened with delight at Jasmine’s boldness. As Jasmine sashayed away, Zara whispered to Belle, “I like her style.”
Jack noticed the twins watching the entire interaction, their cold eyes never leaving Jasmine. As she passed them on her way out, Jasmine paused, leaning close to whisper something that made the twins visibly stiffen.
Jack’s pulse quickened. Whatever game was being played, it was clear that Jasmine knew far more than she was letting on. And somehow, Zara – with her unique perception of time – was the key to unlocking it all.
As the sounds of Canal Street drifted in through the front entrance, Jack pondered this new revelation as a new sense of understanding settled over him like a warm New Orleans evening. He and Zara were in this together, their differing experiences with time forming a powerful alliance against the enigmatic forces at play in the city they both loved. With this new insight, he turned his attention back to Avery’s table, ready to face whatever challenges lay ahead. The pieces of this complex puzzle were slowly falling into place, and Jack knew that with Zara by his side, they stood a chance of unraveling the mysteries that had brought them to this moment.
* * *
As Jack contemplated Jasmine’s revelations, Belle and Zara reappeared, their faces flushed with excitement. They slid back into their seats, the old wooden chairs creaking softly beneath them.
“We’ve got a plan,” Zara announced, her voice low and thrumming with energy. Her eyes scanned the room, checking for eavesdroppers.
“For what? The Avery thing?” Jack asked, still pondering Jasmine’s insights. The thought of multiple timelines offered a dizzying array of possibilities.
Belle’s lips curved into a smirk, a mischievous look in her eyes that reminded Jack of their shared lineage. “Cher, it’s about more than just Avery,” she said, her voice as smooth as honey. “We need to follow that map. We’re planning a trip to the bayou on Saturday.”
Jack’s eyebrows shot up, surprise momentarily overriding his concerns. The constant hum of their surroundings seemed to fade away as he focused on Belle’s words. “Saturday? That’s awfully soon, considering we just found out about this place.”
“Damn straight it’s soon,” Zara said. Her grey eyes sparkled with determination. “But Belle’s pretty sure she knows where it is and has a bayou guide who can get us there. Someone she trusts.”
Jack’s instincts kicked into high gear, a familiar tightness settling in his chest. “And who might that be?”
Belle’s expression softened, a mix of fondness and reverence crossing her features. “An old friend of Mama’s, bébé,” she said, her Creole accent thickening with emotion. “He knows the bayou like the back of his hand and… let’s just say he’s well-versed in the more remote and isolated aspects of the bayou.”
Jack sat back, absorbing the information. The sounds of the restaurant – the clink of cutlery, the murmur of conversations, the sizzle from the kitchen – seemed to crescendo around him, mirroring his rising anxiety.
Zara glanced at Jack, her voice dropping to a whisper that seemed to blend with the ambient noise. “We should get out of here and head back to your place, figure out our next moves. This isn’t the place to discuss everything.”
Jack nodded, suddenly hyper-aware of the bustling restaurant around them. The twins were nowhere to be seen, but he couldn’t shake the feeling of being watched. “You’re right. Let’s go.”
As they prepared to leave, Belle touched Jack’s arm gently. The contact momentarily quieted his unease. “I’m heading home first,” she said, her voice taking on a serious tone. “Need to prepare some things for the trip. Protective charms, herbs… you know the drill. I’ll need to gather Spanish moss, cypress bark, and some swamp lilies. Might have to call in a favor with Marie Laveau’s great-great-granddaughter for some of the rarer items.” She paused, then added, “I’ll meet you both at your place later this afternoon once I’ve got everything sorted.”
Jack and Zara exchanged a brief glance that spoke volumes about their shared concerns. “We’ll see you later, Belle,” Jack said.
As they approached the door, the floorboards creaking beneath their feet, one of the twins suddenly appeared. He intentionally bumped into Jack, the impact sending a jolt through Jack’s body. For a split second, time seemed to fracture around him. Jack saw a flash of a different timeline – the twin’s face twisted into a grotesque mask, eyes glowing with an otherworldly light. The vision was gone as quickly as it came, leaving Jack disoriented and shaken.
“Watch where you’re going,” the twin growled, his voice low and menacing, like the rumble of thunder before a gulf storm.
“Sorry,” Jack muttered, fighting to keep his voice steady. He could feel Zara’s hand on his arm, her touch an anchor.
They pushed through the door, stepping into the bright New Orleans sunlight. The sudden change in light was jarring, adding to Jack’s disorientation. As they walked towards Rampart Street to catch the streetcar to St. Claude and Jack’s Bywater apartment, Zara couldn’t help but feel a sense of excitement mingled with trepidation.
“This is going to be big, isn’t it?” she asked, her voice barely above a whisper, nearly lost in the surrounding street noise – car horns, distant music, and the ever-present chatter of tourists.
Jack nodded, his eyes scanning their surroundings out of habit. His mind was still racing from the encounter with the twin, the residual energy of the time shift making his skin tingle. “Bigger than Mardi Gras, I reckon,” he said, his voice tight with concern. “But Zara, are you sure you want to be involved in this? With your new opportunity with Avery…”
Zara cut him off, her voice firm as steel. “Jack, you’re family,” she said, her grey eyes meeting his with unwavering resolve. “Whatever this is, whatever we’re up against, I’m in. keeping it 100. Besides,” she added with a grin that lit up her face like a French Quarter neon sign, “who says I can’t juggle a budding TV career and a little mystical investigative work on the side?”
As they boarded the streetcar, its weathered wooden seats creaking as they sat, Jack couldn’t help but smile. The familiar sway of the streetcar and the rhythmic clatter of wheels on tracks, a comforting constant in his ever-shifting world. Despite the uncertainty and danger that lay ahead, he felt a surge of gratitude for the loyal friends by his side.
Yet, as the streetcar lurched forward, carrying them towards Jack’s apartment and the next chapter in their increasingly complex adventure, a nagging fear tugged at the edges of his mind. What if his actions put them in danger? What if the next time shift took him away when they needed him most? The image of the twin’s transformed face lingered in his mind, a chilling reminder of the horrors that might be lurking in the shadows of the city he loved.
Jack gazed out the window, watching the familiar streets of New Orleans roll by. The city seemed different now, charged with an energy he couldn’t quite name. As they rattled along, the rhythm of the streetcar seemed to echo the beating of Jack’s heart – steady, purposeful, and ready for whatever lay ahead in the twisting timelines of New Orleans.