Sugar Doll's Hurricane Blues by Kalua Lauber Read Free Book Online

church?” Big Ma sat down across from Remy.
    Feeling the pressure Remy acquiesced, “Well, no ma’am, I was baptized as a Catholic but I had too much soul for their choir and their rules.”
    “I can understand leaving the Catholic Church, I’m a Baptist myself, we follow the bible all the way and I mean no disrespect by that.” Big Ma added.
    “None taken ma’am, my grandmother would differ with you on that. She attends mass every day that she is well and prays the rosary all of the time. She’s always quoting scripture and stuff like that.” Remy looked pleased with himself.
    “Well, the bible says to judge not lest ye be judged so she sounds like a godly woman...eh, what happened to you?” Big Ma rose to go to the stove.
    “Well, my parents happened to me. Drugs and alcohol did them both in and my father was no count from the beginning. I don’t think I ever stepped inside a church after my baptism. I do pray sometimes though.”
    “I certainly hate to break up this church revival and godly talk but we came here to talk to Sugar Doll about some things.” Bertrand interrupted good naturedly.
    “Aw shucks, you ain’t got nothing to talk about son. But ya’ll go ahead while I clean up the kitchen. I’ll be listening though, just so you know.” Big Ma winked and went into the kitchen.
    “Let’s all go out on the porch to get out of Big Ma’s way.” Bertrand laughed and guided Remy to the door. Sugar Doll followed. “She can’t hear nothing no way. Don’t you worry a thing about her.” Bertrand poked Sugar Doll in the side and pulled up two chairs for her and Remy. He leaned against the rail of the porch.
    “Look here Sugar Doll, you sure can sing. We had nothing but questions about you after you left. Why don’t you come on over to Beauchamp’s to make some money with your big cousin Bertrand?”
    “I got a job.” Sugar Doll said flatly. Remy winked at her, she looked away.
    “At the Dollar Store? I’m talking making real money singing the blues or whatever other style you want to sing.” Bertrand knelt on the top step.
    “The blues is for old people. I like alternative rock.” Sugar Doll looked at Remy.
    “That may fly in the studio but for live performance in New Orleans you have to have some sort of background in blues and you have got it baby. Then you can write your own ticket. Do whatever you want to do. I can manage you.” Bertrand was excited; he had really thought this out. “You can sing R & B which is just the stepchild of the gospel music you already sing in church…for free.”
    “Girl you saw that crowd in the French Quarter the other night.” Remy said lazily.
    “Sugar Doll ain’t going nowhere near that filthy French Quarter.” Big Ma appeared at the screen door.
    “What’s wrong with the French Quarter? They got nuns who live there and St. Louis cathedral.” Bertrand said laughing. “Maybe the Pope will put Sugar Doll up until she becomes famous.”
    Big Ma came out from behind the screen door, “Ya’ll can laugh if ya’ll want, and her momma turned out bad enough.”
    “Big Ma!” Sugar Doll reacted to the slight.
    “Now, don’t get hurt but you must realize how bad things turned out for your momma.” Big Ma responded.
    “Why you always have to talk about my momma?” Sugar Doll jumped up from her seat and ran toward the levee behind the house.
    Remy instinctively got up in concern and followed her. Big Ma and Bertrand looked at each other. “Why’d you have to embarrass that girl in front of Remy?” Bertrand asked disgustedly.
    “She has to remember who she is and where she comes from so that she never goes there, that’s why. I saw how she was looking at that boy and what’s more, I saw how he was looking at her.” Big Ma sat down heavily on a chair.
    “Hold on now! Hold on cher!” Remy called after Sugar Doll who slowed down but didn’t turn to face him. Remy reached out and touched her shoulder.
    She flinched at his touch. She turned