Pearl's Gold and Cracker Box

fiction from way down south

Pearl’s Gold and Cracker Box

 

          Downtown New Orleans was a hustling and bustling place after the big war. Around the corner from Tulane Avenue was one of those places, just a few blocks down from Bourbon called the Kronkrite Hotel. It was run by a woman named Pearl Foster who stood about five foot eight inches tall, had a very becoming figure that was sleek and buxom, and her bronze skin seemed like the same shade of her running list of multiple sins. Her place had an ornate lobby, a full bar, a limited kitchen, and eight lavish rooms in the upper two floors. The hotel was normally shut down on Mondays and Tuesdays, but it sure was busy for the rest of the week and on the weekends.

          ‘Skeeter’ Jones was a large, dark skinned man who had the privilege to serve as an officer in France. Standing well over six feet tall, he had a powerfully built frame from years of hard work down on the docks in his youth. An experienced pilot after years of crop-dusting in many of the northern parishes, which is one of the reasons they called him Skeeter, his given name was Seville. Skeeter had a little wife named June and two strapping young boys waiting for him when the war was finally over in 1945. June was short and sweet. She was rotund, very feminine, and her face was so full of life that when she’d smile for you it seems like she’d passed part of her beautiful soul on to yours. And she loved Skeeter dearly, showering the young Lieutenant with kisses and hugs and her voluptuous embrace for days when he finally returned home. It was June’s mama that finally convinced her to release the man so that the couple could attend church.

          Now Skeeter brought a few keepsakes home with him, along with the Distinguished Flying Cross. It seems that he’d encountered a German officer that was trying to escape after Armistice finally came to Paris. The Nazi b*****d tried to steel the old car that Skeeter was actually driving down the road. The kraut pulled a luger on him while standing in the middle of the road, threatening to shoot Skeeter behind the wheel. Skeeter floored the accelerator and leaned to the side as the pistol sent two rounds through the windshield, and Skeeter ran the guy over as if he were an opossum or a raccoon. Well Skeeter wanted the pistol so he stopped and went back to get it from the rundown kraut. The poor German man was quite dead by the time Skeeter turned the car around stepped out of the car to collect the luger. After prying the pistol from the guy’s hand, Skeeter noticed some coins spilling out of a bag that was sewn into the dead man’s jacket.

There were twenty eight gold coins in the Nazi officer’s bag. Each coin was a little bigger than a silver dollar and twice as thick, and there was the face of some German fellow on one side and an eagle on the other. The kraut had over three hundred marks in cash in his wallet and four clips for the luger. Skeeter leaned the poor dead officer up against a tree behind a bush from the road, covering his face with a blanket from the back seat of the car. Then he jumped behind the wheel and went on his way, saying nothing to anybody about his good fortune. He used the German cash to buy food and blankets for some French people as a good Christian would. The remaining gold coins were brought home where he turned three into over seventy dollars cash, which went far for his family.

He said nothing about the gold coins to anyone except one. Now Skeeter was a good, fine man. An intelligent and forthright Christian, a decorated officer and gentleman, and one of the first African Americans to return from World War II with such distinguished service. But he was only human. He loved his wife June dearly, and his two sons with all his might. Still the services of a certain bronze skinned vixen at the Kronkrite Hotel were more than the decorated pilot could resist. Skeeter found his way to her hotel on Monday mornings when he was supposedly at work.

It always happened the same way. As the sun would come up Pearl’s business would be closed down with nobody there except for her. When Skeeter knocked on the back door she would graciously accept him, leading him to the bar and ultimately up to her bedroom. Her talents and insights and experience were all utilized to drive Skeeter’s passion to similar heights that his fighter aircraft had in heated battle of war. And it always ended the same. Naked and gasping after incredibly heated lovemaking, Skeeter would reach for his trousers in the afternoon sun and Pearl would remind him that such a national hero’s money was no good in her house. And instead of pulling out his wallet, Skeeter would reach into his pocket and pull out one of the German gold pieces, which would send a flash of light to Pearl’s eye. As Skeeter would shower and get ready to return back home to his wife and family, Pearl would stash the coin in a secret corner of her bedroom.

Every Monday morning Skeeter would arrive with the rising sun, a smile on his face and a gold coin in his pocket. And Pearl would be ready for the man, singling him out as her only lover. She gave him everything and anything to send his passions up to the sky in new and fascinating ways. Every Monday afternoon Pearl reminded Skeeter that his money was not any good, except the German gold was just more than Pearl could resist. She, too, was only human.

It pretty much happened the same way every week until April of 1946. June’s Aunt Mary had passed away in Littlerock and she was so grieved that Skeeter drove her and the children up there for Easter Sunday services. Of course Pearl and Skeeter missed one another’s embrace, especially Skeeter. While he was there he purchased a tin of chocolate covered crackers for his weeping wife and for his sons. But he bought another one in secret for his lover, his mistress, his loving Pearl. Skeeter and June returned to New Orleans that Thursday night, and the next Monday morning Skeeter showed up at the back door of the Kronkrite Hotel with the rise of the sun.

Unfortunately June had discovered the extra tin of crackers that Skeeter had purchased. She didn’t ask him about it, but she did follow him that chilly Monday morning that Skeeter walked to the hotel with the tin under his arm. Hidden from view, June watched Skeeter knock on the door and smile broadly as he went inside an otherwise closed hotel and house of ill repute. Finding the door securely locked, June refused to guess at what her husband was doing inside. So she went back to her home and located the German luger that Skeeter liberated from the Nazi officer in France. Driving Skeeter’s car to the parking lot of the Kronkrite Hotel, June used the tire iron of the car to force the back door open. She followed her nose and she followed her ears until she made her way to the second floor where the sounds of Skeeter’s impassioned moans led June to Pearl’s bedroom door.

Quietly opening the door, June watched Pearl’s sleek body bounce and gyrate and expertly f**k her husband’s lean, strong frame. They continued for moment after burning moment until the clicking sound of a round being chambered into the barrel of the German luger motivated Pearl to look over and see June standing there with the pistol in her hand, pointing at Pearl. Skeeter didn’t see his enraged wife at first; he just asked why Pearl had stopped when the first shot loudly fired out.

 The bullet punctured her dewy breast and buried into her wildly beating heart, killing Pearl almost instantly. Pearl’s body lurched dully to Skeeter’s right and as he turned, recognizing June and his unfortunate predicament, he spoke June’s name just before the pistol fired again, and again, and again. June shot her adulterous husband in the forehead and twice in the chest. Then she emptied the remaining rounds of the clip into Pearl’s bronze body. Loudly weeping, June dropped the luger on the floor and calmed herself as she walked back out to the parking lot of the hotel and drove home to wait for the police to come and arrest her. Thank God that the two boys were in school that day.

After the trial June spent the rest of her life in prison. The two boys went to live with June’s sister in Littlerock. The scandal closed the Kronkrite Hotel for almost a year before it was purchased by a yankee businessman, renamed, and was made into a respectable hotel for rich tourists. All the weeks that Pearl received Skeeter’s gold, and his love, she had hidden the gold coins beneath the floor board near her brass bed. That last morning Skeeter told her there were no more coins but there were chocolate covered crackers. She smiled and showed him where she hid the coins, and he placed the tin of crackers alongside the twenty five gold coins, covering them with the floor board as Pearl removed her silk dress.

Whether Skeeter and Pearl had plans to run away together or not is a mystery that remains between the hearts of two lovers. The actual presence and location of the unopened tin of chocolate covered crackers or the thick, gold coins about the size of silver dollars remains one of a great many secrets hidden behind carved wood, faded paint, and the passionate spirit that lives and breathes in the French Quarter of New Orleans.

 

SR Urie

Reviews

[D.R. Wilsey Jr.]

When you write a period piece like this, you need to pay close attention to your details. Especially stuff like slang terms and products that were around at the time.

The first problem comes with the use of 'dude'. While an old word, it didn't come into popularity in the U.S. as a slang term until the 60's with the surfer culture in California.

The next problem, which could be a big one considering the importance of the coins in the story, is German currency. While the Nazi officer could have had gold coins of some sort, German currency did not include gold 50-mark pieces at the time.

After WW1, German currency was taken off of the gold standard and, due to inflation, was replaced almost exclusively by paper money called Papiermark. The Papiermark was replaced by the Rentemark in 1923 and then Reichsmark in 1924 until the introduction of the Deutsche Mark after WWII.

During WWII, like the US, precious metals were used for war. German coins were largely made of cheaper metals like zinc and aluminum. The only coin marked with a 50, as far as I know, was the aluminium Reichspfennig.

Now, you don't really need to change the story. I would simply replace identifying the gold pieces as German marks. Maybe just call them gold pieces. Germans, and other participants of the war, came across coins from all over.

[Salvatore Buttaci]

Congratulations for winning Both-Sides-of-the-Coin Contest!

[Dave "Doc" Rogers]

Nice bit of storycraft there. The only thing missing the mention of the humidity and the sultry nights. I like how you made good use of foreshadowing and tying everything together to close the tale. This could easily be just one of many stories that took place in the Quartah. Thanks. Enjoyable read.

Cheers!
Doc.