The North Face of the Heart by Dolores Redondo

Author:Dolores Redondo [Redondo, Dolores]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Amazon Crossing
Published: 2021-05-31T16:00:00+00:00

39

OCEANETTA

New Orleans, Louisiana

The sky remained heavily overcast. The persistent gusts of the morning had died away, and the dark, heavy clouds moved almost imperceptibly. Off on the horizon, there was a suggestion of clear skies. The temperature was rising.

The Ninth Ward, the most extensive of the city’s seventeen wards, comprised the easternmost part of the city. It was bordered by the Mississippi on one side and the lake on the other. To the southeast it was contiguous with Saint Bernard Parish and the canal. It was a scene of utter devastation. Water was chest deep along North Galvez. Automobiles were floating with only their roofs visible, and along more than one street they had to skirt downed electrical wires and uprooted trees. They didn’t have a specific address, but soon they heard shots in the distance and steered toward them. The weapon sounded like a rifle, and it was being fired every couple of minutes, obviously outside a building.

They saw quite a few people looking down at them from the rooftops and upper balconies of apartment buildings. Most were young. As they advanced in the Zodiac, people would call out and wave improvised banners. Dupree was a reluctant witness to the increasing distress in the faces of his New Orleans colleagues as the team passed their citizens without being able to help. A couple of times, Charbou took up the megaphone to say help was on the way, but after a while he gave up. He knew full well he was lying. He had no idea if help was coming, and he had no way of finding out.

At the top of Clouet Street they came across three African American teens distributing supplies from a rowboat. One was down in the water, his red T-shirt so soaked he looked like he was covered in blood. He was wading toward a house and holding a bundle high to keep it out of the water. He grinned when he saw them.

“Hey, y’all! We ain’t up to nothing bad!”

“What you sellin’ those folks?” Bill Charbou called out.

“Sellin’? Hey, man, we ain’t sellin’ nothing, we givin’ it away! Bud Light and cigarettes.” He struck an attitude. “Robin Hood of the ghetto, man!” Two men in the window responded with cheers, but his friends in the rowboat just eyed the FBI team. “Robin Hood of the damn ghetto, folks! Red Cross got nothing for you, brothers, but we sure enough do!”

Charbou grinned. “You’re a prince, buddy!”

The boy beamed.

One of his friends was surly. “If we had to wait for help from y’all . . .”

Charbou responded cheerfully. “Hey, shithead, I’m blacker than you are!”

The boy nodded, reluctantly acknowledging that. “Yeah, man. That make you our brother cop, huh?”

Bull took charge of the exchange. “Listen, y’all, they told us someone round here been firing a gun. We heard shots a long way off, but we don’t know where he’s at. Y’all seen anything?”

“Oh, man, I can’t fucking believe it! Check it out: water keeps rising round here

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