Haha! Four chappys in 5 minutes. Ain't I great? Hehe. Of course, the fact that chapter 18 is a tiny thing, and that chapters 19 and 20 were already written and posted under another title had NOTHING to do with the update speed. Hehe. But this one is new! Promise!
"Hey papa."
"Louis?" His father's voice sounded distant in the public phone, but Louis' heart lightened. He had been gone for two months now, and with Christmas in only two days, he missed his family. But he felt free of obligations, and though he knew he'd have to go back to them one day, he liked to taste the feeling of freedom for now. "Lou, where are'ye callin' from?"
"I'm at the Sarnia train station."
"Sarnia?"
Louis smiled. "Yeah, that's in Ontario. I just got through the Canadian lines."
"Yeah well, Canada's a big place, Lou. Dat doesn't tell me where y'are…"
"Southern Ontario, papa." He heard Remy snort at the word 'southern' and smiled. "I was in Detroit two hours ago, if that helps yah. And there's supposed to be one of the great lakes somewhere near, Lake Huron I think."
"And what are'y doin' dere anyway?"
"Takin' the train, headin' for Toronto. I got here on bus, and I'm damn tired of it." Silence on the line. "Papa?"
"Y'won't be here on Noël, den."
Louis closed his eyes and leaned his forehead against the public phone. "Papa, I already told you that. And I spoke to mom and she sounded okay with it…"
"I know, I know… let y'père have som' hope, Lou. We miss you here."
"I miss you guys too."
"Den why d'ye stay away?"
"Cause it makes me feel better, at least for now." Louis heard his father's sigh at the end of the line.
"So, y'gonna stay in Toronto for a while?"
"Yeah, but not for long… I'm headin' east after Christmas, and I want to be in Quebec city for the winter Carnival." Another snort at the end of the line.
"Are'y tellin' me you wanna be in de coldes' place south o'de 50th parallel durin' de coldes' month o'de year? Y'even crazier dan I thought." Louis laughed.
"I wonder where I got that from."
"Y'mother. She loves snow."
"Tell her I love her for me, okay papa?"
"Why don't'y tell her herself?"
"Cause I have to go, the train's arrived."
"Oh, d'accord den… You call soon, won'y?"
"Soon, I promise."
~~~
May 15th
The heat was hardly bearable. Louis leaned his forehead in his gloved palm, swearing under his breath as he asked himself again what had fallen over his head in his sleep to give him the idea of going in New Orleans dressed up like he had to. He wanted to see his grandfather, of course, who he hadn't seen since he was 3 feet high, but he still could have waited for whatever temperature they had un January. He sat in a small café, a glass of pinkish fruit punch on the table in front of him, and was asking himself if he should wait for the sun to come down before he got out of the shade. He looked up, watching the people walking on the sidewalk on Bourbon street, when his eyes caught someone staring at him from the other side of the street.
The man didn't look away when Louis stared in his eyes, and both men frowned. He was tall, in his forties, with unruly red hair and beard, and from what Louis could see from a distance, pale eyes. Louis raised an eyebrow, asking a silent question, and the man frowned even more, before turning around and disappearing in a backstreet alley. Louis stared at the empty spot where he had stood, and bit his lip, looking down at his drink. Being his father's spitting image, maybe New Orleans hadn't been such a good idea. He dropped some money on the table and got to his feet, determined to find out who that man was.
He crossed the street in a fast pace and walked in the dark alley. He hadn't gone further than the end of a building when a hand grabbed his shirt sleeve and pulled him in, pinning him hard against the brick wall. He let out a gasp and opened his eyes to stare at the red haired man, pale blue eyes staring into his. "Who de hell are yeh?" the man spat, and Louis felt a gun pressed under his chin. He glared at him.
"You were the one starin', man. I could ask you the same question." The man's eyes narrowed, his gun pressing harder and quite painfully against his larynx, and Louis' hands balled into fists as he drew back his arm, and punched the man hard in the stomach. He doubled up with a startled gasp, taking a step back and his gun falling on the pavement with a clank. Louis took a step forward, grabbing the man's neck and pinning him against the wall. "What d'you want from me?"
"I wanna know who y'are," the man gasped, his hands reaching up to Louis' arm, trying to get free of his strong grip.
Louis narrowed his eyes at him. "What for?"
"Y'look like someone I know. A cousin o'mine. What's y'name?"
"Louis."
Despite the hand around his neck, the other man smiled. "Y'father's name wouldn' be Remy, by chance?"
***
Louis looked up at the mansion as the gates opened, trying to keep his mouth closed when he realized the house was apparently bigger than the Xmansion itself. It was huge. This was where his father had grown up? Tall trees towered way over the three floors mansion, and the whole grounds seemed to be surrounded by a 15 feet high gate. Louis smirked to himself. This was a house of thieves; it was probably hard, if not impossible, to get through the security devices.
The red haired man who had introduced himself as Émile, his father's cousin, drove up the driveway and to the front door, where he stopped. He led Louis to the wide oak wood door, and pushed it open. "Follow me," he said with a huge grin, heading for a wide hallway, "I'll show yeh t'y'grandpa."
The thieves were obviously in the middle of a meeting when Émile knocked on the double white painted doors, and entered when someone answered. Louis' eyes first settled on the huge mahogany table in the middle of the rooms, where shelves filled with books covered the walls. They then moved to meet curious glances from the men sitting around the table in a surprised silence. He could see the younger ones were simply waiting for explanations about this stranger's presence in the great Thieves mansion, like the young brown haired man at the end of the table, a few feet away from him, who raised an interrogative eyebrow at him. A few others, older ones, sitting near the other end of the table, stared at him in surprise, some with their eyebrows drawing in a frown as they realized who he must be. At the end of the table, getting to his feet, was a pale looking man in his seventies, his salt and pepper hair pulled back in a low ponytail, and his blue eyes wide as he stared at him. Louis swallowed, but Émile smiled at Jean-Luc's reaction. A young man with dark hair, sitting on Louis' left, switched his purplish blue gaze from him to Émile, and frowned. "We been waitin' f'yeh, Lapin. But we didn' know y'were bringin' visit."
Émile's smile widened and he looked up at Jean-Luc. "Louis," he said, glancing at him, "dis be y'grandfather, Jean-Luc." The older man's face broke into a smile at the confirmation, and he nodded at Louis.
"Welcome in y'second home, fils."
***
Louis stepped in the room and dropped his bag on the floor, more out of surprise than exhaustion, as he looked around the bedroom the young blonde woman was showing him. The four post bed was in the left corner, away from the huge window on the right wall. Thick dark blue curtains hid the window and she walked to it to pull them away as he took a few steps in, sighing in relief as he realized there was air conditioning in the rooms. She turned and smiled at him. "Y'be comfortable here?"
He chuckled softly, and picked up his bag to drop it on the bed. "I don't think anyone would complain 'bout a room like this."
She laughed, and tucked back a blonde lock behind her ear, her amber eyes slanting in amusement as she walked to him and presented her hand. "Great t'know y'like it. I don' t'ink we been introduced, though. M'name's Isabelle."
Louis smile and took her hand. "And I'm Louis. But you already know that, probably."
She smiled, nodding, and turned to the door. "I gotta go. But if y'need anyt'in', just call. I'll be glad t'help yeh." He nodded to her as she left, and he let his eyes wander through the room again as he heard the door close behind her. His eyes stopped on the white telephone on the desk near the window, and he bit his lip.
After a few moments, he shook his head, and turned to his bag. A phone call, only one, to tell them where he was. But it could wait.
TBC… soon. Promise!