Blood Is Thicker than Water - Draft

Chapter 6- Claretta: Part 3

Hailey

The next day goes by in a blur up until three o'clock.

It turns out my mom found a Baptist church a few blocks down the opposite direction of Saint Louis Cathedral. Saint Louis, the giant looming white church in the middle of the French Quarter, is Catholic, so we didn't go there for service. Nonetheless, I would have liked to see the interior. Dad didn't mind going to either one but noted that we should go into Saint Louis Cathedral at some point on our trip- just to see the architecture. Mom made a little fuss about how we'd both rather be spending time in the more well-known cathedral but was satisfied when she got both of us inside the smaller chapel for the service.

In church, I could hardly keep my eyes open. I had to jerk myself back into consciousness constantly. Another technique I used to stay awake was to imagine what the person in front of me looked like. I only saw the white puffs of curly hair or the sleek iron curtain of brown locks for most of the service. It was fun to imagine the faces that go with these heads of hair until they turn around, of course.

Afterward, I am again dragged on to another tour bus. My parents watch me more carefully due to my episode last night. Like hawks watching over their newly hatched chick.

Doing my best to get on their good side so I can slip away and meet Marc by three, I go through all the required motions to make them happy.

Today our tour stopped at all the haunted houses in New Orleans. Well, maybe not all of them. That would be physically impossible. But it seemed like all of them, based on the number of buildings we sped through.

The guide describes their frequent uninvited guests as we meander through an old theater.

Thankfully, when we return to the hotel after lunch, the clock's shorthand barely passes the two. I even might be a little early in meeting Marc at the museum. Time to beg for freedom from the ever-watchful parents.

This time around, asking permission is a little more complicated. Since last night, I need to be vigilant about how I word things, but I have a plan.

"Would you guys like to go to the Voodoo Museum with me?"

I am optimistic. If my parents came along and I met up with Marc there, they would be keener on letting me spend the rest of the day with him.

Mom perks up.

"The Voodoo Museum! I had planned on going there tomorrow..." She extracts her schedule. "But we have time today. I thought you already went, Hailey?"

"I did, but I'd like to re-experience it with you both." I try to appear innocent. Family time always gets them.

She turns to my dad. "What do you think, Howard?"

"I'm up for anything you want to do, Hun."

Yes! So my plan works—well, half of it does. Let's hope the second part goes just as smoothly.

After they ooh and ahh over the street décor, we arrive at the Voodoo Museum.

Marc's mom, Lorraine, is there to greet us again. "Hailey! Welcome back. And you bought your parents?"

"Hi, Ms. Albers. " I eye my parents, who are getting out a bill to pay for the entrance fee. "Is Marc here?"

"Yes." She smiles wide. "He's in the courtyard. Stay right here. I'll go get him."

She returns after a long minute with Marc by her side.

"You're early," he says when he sees me.

I make a quick shake of my head and mouth, "parents," as I point inconspicuously toward them and hope they didn't pick up on the remark.