Cajun books by Lionel A. LaVergne
		HOME CLICK TO RETURN TO HOME PAGE
	BALANCE BY Lionel A. LaVergne Chapter 1 I strained to see through my dirty windshield.  There wasn’t much to set eyes on.  The landscape ahead of me consisted of the two-lane highway and grassy meadows on each side of the road.  I had been driving nearly non-stop for two days and I wasn’t certain exactly where I was.  I wondered if I was hallucinating because it seemed there were no telephone poles on either side of the road, no towns, not even a billboard advertising what lay ahead.   Two days ago, in a medium sized city in Louisiana, I had known it was time to run or die.  For a few years after college, I’d roamed through Louisiana, Mississippi and Alabama.  In school I’d taken only liberal arts studies and although I had a degree I hadn’t learned how to make a living.  I wasn’t fit for anything except the most menial of tasks and those didn’t pay very well.   Flipping hamburgers, cleaning out restrooms or digging ditches wasn’t my idea of a great way to live.  So, I naturally drifted toward the easy money, or so I thought.  Back in my hometown and all through college I’d become a pretty good player and made some money hustling pool.  After ending up in Lake Charles, Louisiana, I searched out places where I could gamble.  Not on the boats, because the percentage was in the house’s favor, instead I hung around the pool halls trying to look innocent and ineffectual.  That seemed to work and I managed to get into some high stakes games where I won, most of the time, and soon I was able to rent a nice little place and even buy the sports car I was now driving down this seemingly endless road. The night I met Lazarus I was busily cleaning out a couple of Cajun oilfield workers, relieving them of their paychecks.  I didn’t see Lazarus and his entourage when they walked into the place, but I felt a change in the room.  The usual loud teasing and joke telling that always accompanied the games, stopped.  I looked up from my position, leaning over the table and attempting to line up the shot that would bury the eight ball into a corner pocket, making me seventy dollars richer. Walking toward my table was the largest man I’d ever seen in my life.  Everyone near my table melted back into the darkness.  The huge fellow approached me, then stopped. “He wants to talk to you.”  Rumbled from the enormous chest directly in front of my eyes.  Leaning back, I looked up into a wasteland where normally a face would be.   Crisscrossed with scars and a nose that angled off to my left, a big smashed ear on one side and nothing on the other with tufts of hair sprouting out in every direction and eyes black and empty, was what I saw. “Who’s he?”  I asked.  The face turned meaner and scarier, something I hadn’t believed was possible.  This man was ugly and the meanest looking individual I’d ever come across. “You trying to be a smart ass?”  The voice rumbled toward me in a fog of the odors of garlic and rotten teeth. “No, sir.  I just don’t know who he is.  I’m new in town . . .” I started to explain.  He didn’t let me finish.  His large hand grabbed my arm and propelled me toward a tall, slim man, who was dressed in a black perfectly-cut suit.  His tie seemed to be made of the same cloth as the suit and his shirt was gleaming white.  A silly thought went through my surprised and frightened brain.  The black holes in space must be like this man’s suit and tie.  Light seemed to be absorbed without reflecting back into the room.   Whatever light shone onto this man was lost forever.  Somehow I knew that whoever came in contact with Lazarus was also lost forever, much as the light. Lazarus was slim to the point of looking emaciated.  His face was a skull covered tightly by yellowish skin.  His dark black hair was slicked back and when I looked into his eyes I moved back involuntarily.  Bright beams of light seemed to laser from his strangely green eyes.  He spoke in a soft voice but I felt, sensed, whatever, the evil in the man. “John Landry, right?” “Yes.”  I managed to croak.  I’m just an ordinary guy, I have my weaknesses and strengths, likes and dislikes, fears and times of bravery just like anyone else.  In front of this man I was a pool of jelly completely helpless to do anything except stand there knowing that, whatever Lazarus wanted to get done, would. “You’ve been playing a lot of pool the last few months, and winning.” “Yes, sir.” “I see no one told you about me.” “No, sir.” “I own this town.  I get a cut of everything that goes down.  You owe me money.” “Yes, sir.” “How much do you owe me?” “I don’t know.”  And I didn’t.  I knew I’d done well but how much I’d won and what his cut was, I had no idea. “Never mind.  Forget the past.  From now on you work for me.”  I nodded agreement.   Turning, he walked away and his group of behemoths followed him.  I headed back to the table where the last ball still sat on the green felt, waiting for me to sink it and collect my money. A vise clamped down on my right shoulder and I felt my feet leave the floor. “Where you going, boy?”  I heard. “Finish my game.” “Naw, you work for Mr. Lazarus now, come on.” Chapter 2        Lazarus wasn’t joking when he said this was his town.  A percentage of every illegal endeavor that took place in Lake Charles went into his pocket.  I became his gopher.  Each day brought a new duty.  From bag man carrying bribes to the local law to intimidating, backed by one of the walking oak trees, citizens that had borrowed money at 10% interest weekly and had fallen behind in their payments.  Lazarus owned it all, including the most beautiful woman I’d ever seen.        Belle was every man’s wet dream.  She had everything anyone could desire, except love.  I soon learned that Belle was a trophy to Lazarus, not a human being, just someone to keep on his arm.  He knew that every man and some women who saw Belle wanted her.  He also knew no one would ever have her, except him.  I also found out, by keeping my mouth shut and remaining invisible, that Lazarus and Belle’s relationship was strictly one of master and possession.  Lazarus never touched her except in public and Belle was a very hot-blooded Cajun who needed more.  That’s one of the reasons I’m now driving down this strange empty highway. As the days went by I found myself fantasizing about Belle.  I knew she was as far out of my reach as the stars in the clear Louisiana sky were.  My duties brought us together other quite often.  She collected Lazarus’ money from all of us runners and kept the books, perhaps two sets of books.  It seemed that my boss/owner had a few legitimate businesses that he used as a front and a place to laundry his ill-gotten gains.  The very bars I’d been playing in all belonged to the “man.”   One day I found myself alone with Belle.  Through a supreme effort I had resisted letting my normal flirtatious way of acting around women, especially beautiful ones, in check.  I loved women, I enjoyed everything about God’s fairest creation, their smell, touch, feel, look, everything about them.  The sound of a lovely woman’s voice reached deep down inside of me, to my secret core.  Belle’s voice was deep and throaty without being the least masculine.  Nearly every time I had to spend time near her I found myself in an extremely aroused condition.  Not wanting to die anytime soon I refrained from even the slightest suggestion that I wanted to become more than just a deliverer of money and she the collector.  Often after I left her, I had to find another woman, and each time I left the substitute lady, I felt strangely unsatisfied and still in need.  Slowly I noticed a difference in the way Belle talked to me, of course, only when we both knew we were alone, which was often.  I soon realized she felt some of the feelings I’d been dealing with ever since I first laid eyes on her.  One thing eventually led to another.        Belle and I soon began a very secret affair.  We both knew if Lazarus learned of our trysts he would kill us both without a second thought.  His favorite method of ridding himself of those who went against his wishes was to drop them off the side of a boat into an alligator infested body of water in the swamps found south of Lake Charles.  The night I learned that Lazarus had uncovered Belle’s and my indiscretion, I had just placed into the right bottom drawer of his desk $100,000.00, money I had picked up on that day’s run.  Knowing I was dead, I grabbed the bag and went to my car.  I threw the money into the trunk then headed west.  I knew Belle was soon to be dinner for the alligators but I couldn’t see why we should both die, so much for true love.        Stopping only for gas, restroom breaks, a candy bar and cold drink, I’d driven non-stop for forty-eight hours.  Now the gas needle was wavering near the big E and I knew I needed to find some sort of civilization soon.  Ahead the road stretched in the moonlight with nothing to indicate I was still in the USA and driving down a public highway.  My last stop had been in New Mexico at least I was pretty sure it had been New Mexico.  Now it seemed as though I had taken a wrong turn somewhere along the way.  The area surrounding me was flat and empty.  Pavement and grass was all I saw.  I stopped the car, turned on the overhead light and studied the map I’d bought along the way.  After straining my eyes I still had no idea where I was.        Finally ahead of me the sky began to lighten.  At least I was still going west.   Glancing down I saw the needle lay beneath the big E.  I began to panic just a little.  I knew somewhere behind me was a car with four of Lazarus’s henchmen.  I didn’t want to walk down this empty road, and I didn’t want to die out here in the middle of nowhere, actually I wasn’t ready to die anywhere.        Suddenly, I was on the edge of a town.  One second the horizon held nothing but the road and the grass, then seemingly springing out of nowhere, was a town.  I looked for a sign wanting to know where I was.  Nothing, no town sign, no billboards anywhere on the horizon was what I saw, or actually, didn’t see.  But up ahead I spotted something I needed more than an indicator of where I was,  a service station situated on the left side of the road and it was a welcome sight.  Pulling up to the nearest gas pump I jumped out of my car and began filling up.  As I listened to the dings a man walked up to the pumps.  He seemed to be in his late thirties or early forties.  On his face was a huge smile.          “I usually do that for folks but you’re welcome to pump all the gas you need.”  He said in a pleasant voice.        “Thanks.  I was sucking fumes when I saw your station.  By the way, where am I?”   I asked.        “Balance, that’s the name of our little town.”        “I see, which state?”        “Oh, looks like the tank’s full.  That’ll be $18.35 that’s a lot of gas for such a small car.  Cash or charge?”  Walking away he looked back at me over his shoulder.  I followed.        “Cash, is that alright?”        “You bet, my favorite way of collecting.”  He stopped at the door of the station and I handed him a twenty.  Inside he went behind a small counter and opened the register and began counting my change.  Looking around I saw what I’d seen in hundreds of service stations wherever I’d traveled.  Something was just a little off, but before I could put my finger on what it was, he handed me my change.        “I’m worn out, been driving for two days, could you direct me to a motel?”  I asked.        “Nope, none of those in this town.  Were you planning on staying for a while or just passing through?”  No motels?  I’d never been in any town regardless of how small, that didn’t have at least one motel.  That was strange, I thought.        “I’m just passing through.  How far to the next town that would have a place I could stay the night?”        “Long way, Mister, a real long way.”  He looked at me with a strange speculative look in his eyes for a few seconds, and then it seemed he had come to a decision of sorts.        “Tell you what.  I, uh, own some houses.  You’d be welcome to stay in one for the night, then I guess you’ll be moving on, right?”  The expression on his face seemed to ask a lot more than that seemingly innocent question he’d voiced.  An uneasy feeling came over me and I almost walked back to my car.  Then the last two days came crashing down on me and I suddenly felt weak and disoriented.  I knew if I got back on the road even for a short distance I’d end up in a ditch.        “I’m so tired I’d sleep just about anywhere.  I’d bed down in my car but as you can see it’s way too small.  What does it cost to use your house for one night?”  I asked, resigned to the fact that I wasn’t driving anywhere till I’d had a nights rest.  I was fairly certain Lazarus’ hoods were nowhere around.  I didn’t think there was much of a chance of both of us taking the same wrong turn that led to this place in the middle of nowhere.  I assumed I was safe, at least for a while.  Hopefully long enough to get some rest.        “Let me get the keys.  Hang on.”  He walked into the station and returned with a key chain that contained a couple of keys and small flat object.   You leave here and go down that street.  Take a left on Astro Lane and it’s the third house on your right.  It’ s pale yellow with bushes and flowers in the front yard.  And, oh, yes, this is the garage door control.  Just press this button, go on in and make yourself at home.   Whenever you wake up, come back here and I’ll show you where you can get a good meal.”  He explained.        “You didn’t say how much to let the house for a night.”  I pointed out.        “Don’t worry about that.  There’s no charge, just happy to have someone new in the town.  I don’t see very many outsiders.  See you later.”  He walked away from me and it seemed as though I’d been dismissed.  Alarm bells were ringing in my head.  I’d always been able to sense danger ahead, it was kind of like a sixth sense.  That’s how I knew to run from Lake Charles and Lazarus and the certain death I’d faced.  Now I was so thoroughly exhausted and growing more tired by the second that I ignored the bells, took the keys, and the garage door opener, and left. Chapter 3                The house was nestled in a neat well-groomed neighborhood and all of the homes had new coats of paint.  The grass was mowed and edged neatly and had healthy bushes, trees and flowers ringing the houses.  I found the yellow home easily and pulled up in the drive, hit the remote button and drove in.  I lowered the garage door and, as it went down, I felt a spike of fear stab through my belly, a feeling of somehow being trapped in here.  To reassure myself I pointed the remote and raised the door.  Feeling silly, I lowered it back down and went into the house.        The door led to a kitchen that had a tiled floor and all of the usual appliances.  I explored for a few minutes, but all I discovered was a very ordinary home you would find in any nice middle class neighborhood anywhere in the United States.  Something kept nagging at me, but I decided that was because I was exhausted and had been on the run for two days, driven by fear that if I were caught I would join Belle in the swamps.  Cool it, John, I admonished myself.  I placed the small bag of clothes on a couch in the nicely, appointed living room.  I’d picked up the bag and a few changes along the way.   I walked down a hall and saw three bedrooms all fully furnished and two bathrooms, one at the end of the hall and the other adjoining the largest bedroom.  I showered, shaved and brushed my teeth.          As I lay in the clean bed I tried to relax.  I was afraid I wouldn’t be able to sleep.  I awoke and looking at my watch I saw it was four thirty.  The sun streaming through the window above the bed indicated it was daytime.  A tiny window at the bottom of my watch indicated the date and after squinting a bit I saw it was still the 28th.  So I’d slept and awakened on the same day I’d gotten here.  I felt refreshed, so I got up, took another shower, dressed in wrinkled jeans and a pullover shirt, then walked outside.   Standing in the front yard I looked around.  All I saw was a normal neighborhood and that there was nothing sinister about the place.  Then why was that feeling still churning inside my stomach?  Ever since I could remember, when that nagging started, I’d better pay attention.  Till I started listening to my sixth sense, or whatever it was, I’d had some really bad things happen to me.  Over the years, each time that feeling came on me, I’d began stopping, looking around and deciding what was wrong or what was about to happen that would cause me problems and, sometimes, pain.  I was looking around but I couldn’t see a damn thing that would explain what the feeling was trying to tell me.  I’d never seen a more peaceful place in my life.  If it hadn’t been for the internal clamoring going on in that special spot in my brain, and my gut, all of my other senses would have indicated to me that this was a really nice place to be.        Another sensation burned in my stomach and, that, I was able to easily discern, was caused by hunger.  For over two days I’d eaten only junk food and I needed a real meal.  I went back into the house and checked the refrigerator and cabinets but I didn’t find anything I wanted to eat and I certainly wasn’t in a cooking mood.  Remembering what the man at the service station had said, I drove back there.        I pulled up next to the office and he immediately walked out and came to where I was, almost as though he’d been watching for me.        “Did you get any rest?  You sure look better.  I bet you’re hungry, come on, we’ll take my car.”  He said, while walking away from me.  He disappeared around the corner of the station and I decided I’d better move before he left without me.  I got out locked my car and followed him.  He got into an old automobile, at least it looked old, not that it was dented or faded, just that the style reminded me of pictures I’d seen of autos made in the forties and fifties.  I wasn’t certain who had made it, it was like nothing I’d ever seen before.  I assumed it was probably a foreign make.  He started the car and pulled out into the street going in the same direction I’d been going when I drove into the town.        “Do you have someone helping you at the station?”  I asked.        “Nope, just me, why looking for a job?”        “No, I didn’t see you lock the door aren’t you worried someone will come and help themselves to gas, money or anything else you keep there?”        “In this town, never happen.  Nobody locks up anything.  Anyone needing gas will pump what they need and leave money, or an IOU in the cash register.”  I’d heard of small towns like that in the past, I’d been born in one but even in that small place everyone locked up everything.  Even small places had their share of thieves.  I couldn’ t imagine any place on earth where you could simply walk away from your home or business without locks being engaged and alarms being set.  Knowing that about this town made me uneasy, why I didn’t know, it just wasn’t natural.           We drove through the residential part of town until we came to an area that was seemed to be the business area.            “I’m sorry but I never told you my name, I . . .” I hesitated but again decided I was safe.  “I’m John Landry.”        “You’re right we had forgotten to exchange names, I’m Bob.  Robert F. Kennedy.”        “Really, like the one that was assassinated in Los Angeles, the president’s brother.”        “I suppose.”  He said.  I suppose?  The way he’d said that seemed almost as if he didn’t know who I was talking about.  Perhaps he wasn’t even born when that happened, but neither was I, and I knew all about the Kennedy clan.        Bob parked the car in front of a diner and I read a sign that read Lauren’s Place.   A window ran across most of the front and the sign I saw showed we were there during operating hours, but looking through the glass, I couldn’t see anyone inside.        “Before we go in would you mind if we ran across the street for a second?  I need to talk to Ben for a minute.”  He said getting out of the car.  I didn’t see any meters along the street and not a single sign indicating we couldn’t park where we were.  I followed Bob across the street and he walked into another place of business.  A small placard in the window read, Welcome to Franklin’s Hardware.”  Franklin?  Ben Franklin I suppose, I joked to myself.  Inside Bob went to a counter and was soon engaged in conversation with a large, bearded man.  I wandered around looking at the goods Ben had for sale.  The same feeling I’d had looking at the items Bob had in his station slithered back into my mind.  Something was wrong.  The items themselves were ordinary things you’d find in any hardware store.  What was different?  I picked up a can of spray paint.  The label said Spray Paint and directions on how to use it.  Shake well and don’t spray yourself in the eye, stuff like that.  I put the can back on the shelf then walked to a rack that held sand paper.  The label said Sand Paper.  That was it!   No manufacture’s names were listed on any of this stuff.  The service station also had had generic items and even the place itself didn’t have a name like Shell or Philips 66.   I picked up a few more items and they were all the same.  Had this town somehow secured a contract with all of the companies that made these things?  Did they get them cheaper?  That didn’t make sense because makers of items wanted everyone to know their names that, was usually the most prominent item printed on the package, much larger than the directions, which I always had to strain to read.  Seemed to me the people that made these items would want their names on them, even if it were just for the advertisement.  While I’d been wandering and wondering, I’d gotten close to the counter where the two men stood, speaking.  I was behind one of the racks and I was close enough to hear Bob and Ben talking.  They seemed to be arguing but in a soft non-aggressive way.        “You can’t do this, Bob.  I know you’re on the board but you have to have every ones approval.  You can’t just arbitrarily decide that this man was sent to us.”  I heard and I assumed it was Ben talking because he had a deeper voice, Bob’s had been more of a tenor.        “How many others have come here that weren’t sent?”   Bob asked.        “There’s been a few, you know that.”  Ben agreed, and continued talking.        “Yes, some got through the barrier but they all left as soon as they’d gotten gas.   Why did this one stay?  Did you somehow talk him into staying?”  Ben asked.        “How could I do that, Ben?  He stayed because he was sent.”  Bob asserted in a positive voice.  My senses have always been more acute than other people’s.   I can hear better, see better, smell feel and taste more than an ordinary person.  I can drink a glass of milk and know it will be sour within two days.  If the two knew I was this close they would certainly assume I couldn’t hear their muted discussion, but I heard every word.  What was this nonsense about me having been sent?  I was sent all right, sent running for my life because I messed with a very dangerous man’s woman and stole $100,000.00 from him.        “John, ready to go?”  I heard.  I quickly scooted over a couple of aisles and answered him.          “Yeah, I’m ready.” *  *  *        We walked across the street and into the diner.  Inside I saw several tables scattered around and each had a red vinyl covering that matched the four chairs that sat around the tables.  A counter was directly in front of us and the stool seats had the same red material, as did the tables and chairs.  Bob led me to the counter and we sat.  A door opened and a lady dressed in a white uniform walked toward us.  My breath caught in my throat.  She was a nearly exact duplicate of Belle, except her hair was blonde instead of black.  The tall, perfectly shaped body that even the loose fitting uniform could not hide, matched Belle’s.  In that second I felt a sense of remorse, sorrow and loss.  I hadn’t realized how much Belle had meant to me till that second.  I felt tears in the back of my eyes aching to come rolling down my cheeks.  With a supreme effort I held them back.        “John, meet Lauren Bacall, the best cook in Balance.  Lauren this is John.”   Lauren Bacall?  Bob Kennedy, Ben Franklin did every one in town have a famous name?        Lauren stared directly into my eyes as she spoke to Bob.        “What will you handsome gentleman have?”  She asked never taking her eyes off of me.        “Whatever your dinner special is.  I know it’ll be good.”  Bob answered.        “And you, John?”  Her eyes probed mine and I felt as though I was being pulled out of my body and into hers.  “I’ll have the same, thanks.”  I answered.          “Okay, and don’t be sad.”  She said patting my hand.  Then she walked away to prepare our food.  Don’t be sad?  How did she know I felt like crying, at that instant?   Yeah, I was in an episode of the Twilight Zone.  The unusual town, no labels, the names all very strange, but Lauren was real and beautiful.  My hand still burned where she had touched me.  Love at first sight?  I’d never believed in that, now lust at first sight, yeah, I was very familiar with that.  Emotions were stirring in me, feelings I’d never felt before.  Not just lust, although she invoked plenty of that.  I felt a sudden urge to take this lady, and hold her, protect her and give her whatever she wanted or needed.  John Landry wanting to give to another person?   That was new and different.  I’d spent my life taking and never once having a thought for anybody but myself.  I’d callously left Belle to her fate and really hadn’t thought too much about her, my total concentration had been on putting a lot of miles between me and Lazarus.  All I’d been concerned with was my own sweet ass.        The meal was excellent.  The lady that cooked the meal was perfect.  Each time she came back to the counter I felt a glow.  Her eyes seemed to be echoing what I was feeling.  Finally Bob said he needed to get back because he had to replace a set of brakes on a car.  I left reluctantly, I wanted to just sit and look at Lauren, I was definitely smitten, big time.        “Is Lauren single?”  I asked on the ride back to the station.        “Yes she is.”        “She’s beautiful, what’s wrong with the single men in this town?”        “Ha, many have tried to win her hand but no ones been able to.  She was married but. . .well she’s single now.”        “What happened to her husband?  Any kids?”        “No children, and he’s. . .gone.”        That wasn’t much of an answer but I didn’t care.  I was elated to find the lady was not married and that she hadn’t given in to her many suitors.  I wasn’t planning on staying in this odd little town but where was I going to go?  Perhaps no one would ever find me here, but what would I do here?  Balance seemed to be a small dull town.  We hadn’t driven all over the downtown area but I hadn’t seen any pool halls.  Of course in a place like this $100,000.00 would be plenty to buy a business or invest in some other money making enterprise.        Chapter 5         At the gas station, Bob headed for one of the open bays, and I got into my car.  I rode around for a while.  The town was unique in that all of the residential areas were on the four points of the compass.  Businesses, all of them were centered in one place.  I found a doctor’s office, a small clinic, a furniture store, a grocery store any type of business you would usually find in any town.  I parked then went into the furniture store.  A tall thin man with a beard walked up to me.  He had a frown on his face although he began smiling as he drew nearer.          “Can I be of any assistance?”  He asked.        “No thanks, just looking.”        “If you need any help just wave.  This is my place, I’m Abe.”        “Thanks Abe, would that be Abe Lincoln?”        “Why, yes, how did you know?”        “Never mind.”  I drifted around the showroom and looked at recliners, couches, coffee tables, end tables and not one of them had a manufacturer’s label anywhere.  I left and went back to my car.  Without planning, I drove toward Lauren’s diner.  I rode by and tried to see her but blinds had been lowered and I couldn’t see anything.  I stopped and with my motor still running I contemplated my next move.  Reason told me to get on the road and put lots more miles between me, and Lake Charles, Louisiana.   My heart, and, perhaps, another organ a little lower told me I needed to see Lauren once again.  Now what was I going to do?  Ask her to run off with me?  Maybe.        I heard a tap on the window and I looked out.  A lovely face framed by long golden hair was looking at me.  Lauren.  I lowered the window.        “Are you lost?”  She asked.        “No, just sitting here thinking.  Need a ride?”  She hesitated, then opened the door and slid into the passenger seat.        “Where too?”  I asked.        “Straight ahead till you reach the houses and I’ll tell you where to go from there.   After a few turns she pointed to a small park.  The area around us had been cleared for homes, the streets had been put in but several acres of grassy fields were all I could see.  I pulled onto a cement area that had yellow lines marking off parking spaces.  Ahead of where we were I saw slides, swings, teeterboards and other items kids could play on.  I supposed that meant that somewhere in this eerie place there were young children, and I could only assume they had been born here.        “Where are you from, John?”  She asked.        “A lot of places, none of them important, you?”        “Right here, I was born here.”        “How do you like living in a small town?”        “Sometimes I dream of leaving but that’s out of the question.”  Lauren explained.                “What do you mean, what’s out of the question?  You leaving?  What’s keeping you here?”        “I can’t tell you.  Just take my word, I can’t leave and go with you, not that you’ve asked me too.  If I could I would.”  I hadn’t asked, in fact I had been in this ladies presence maybe a total of one hour, yet I felt a closeness to her that I had never achieved with some women I had lived with for months.  I sensed disappointment, sorrow, and truth in those words.  She really wanted to be with me, and I wanted her with me.  What was causing this?  What sort of spell did this strange town named Balance have on me?  Certainly I had wanted to bed down many women in my life, even after knowing them for just a few seconds, but the emotion I was experiencing, was more than sex.  I placed my hand on her left shoulder and gently tugged.  She allowed herself to be pulled to me.  At first there was a small amount of resistance, but then she came into my arms in a rush and we kissed.  We stayed there long after the sun had set kissing, caressing, whispering sweet words and holding each other tightly.  Never in my short and stupid life had I ever felt this way.  Women had been put on this earth for only one reason, to take care of my sexual needs.  I had never loved another person in my entire life.  I had been on my own since I was twelve years old.  I never knew the man that had planted a seed in my mother.  She had been a drunk and a slut.  The door to our small shabby mobile home in Basile, Louisiana, had seen dozens of strange men coming and going.  At fifteen I’d finally run away.  The cops picked me up and eventually I was put into a foster home.  The Johnsons were old and had been taking in strays on a regular basis.  For some strange reason they decided to adopt me.  I finished school, attended college and then went back to what I loved, the edge of society where the law was broken every day, and I knew I could make a living hustling.  That was where Lazarus had found me.        Now I wanted more, I wanted something clean and sweet and honest.  I couldn’t begin to understand how this had happened so quickly.  Till a few hours ago I hadn’t known this woman existed and now she was in my arms and I knew beyond any doubt she felt the same way I did.  What strange magic or, as we say in Louisiana, mojo, was at work here?  I held her warm perfect body and felt her sweetness and goodness seep into mine.  Why did I want her to leave this place and go with me?  The town was nice and far from anyone looking for me, distant in miles, and I sensed something else.  Exactly what I couldn’t put my finger one, but something.  I didn’t know where in the world I was, not even which state, but somehow I knew Lazarus would never find me here.  So why was I trying to talk her into leaving?  Because it was so very different, not a real place.  Now where had that thought come from?  Of course, it was real, Lauren certainly was.        “I can’t leave.”  She said a small frown marring her lovely brow.        “Why, what’s holding you here?”  Her beautiful eyes stared through the windshield at the moon and stars that had appeared in the sky.  Lots of stars, more than I normally saw at night even out and away from city lights.  She sat that way for a long time and finally turned to me.  In the light from the moon I saw her face looked strained.  Her mouth opened and closed several times, and finally she spoke.        “I’m not supposed to tell you any of this, but I will.”        If I’d thought the town was strange the words coming from her soft red lips staggered my mind.        In a nutshell this is what I learned that night.  Each word pushed me farther into the twilight zone of disbelief.        The town was named Balance because that is what it did.  It was the center of the universe and the entire town had been built in perfect symmetry.  A certain number of streets, houses and businesses were built, and living in the town were a certain number of people, 5,000 people, no more no less.  Each year on January the 30th the universe was realigned.  Whatever had been done to cause the planets, the galaxies, all of the known universe to get out of alignment, and that included man going to the moon, and the ravaging of the earth by it’s inhabitants, the loss of species, melting of the polar caps from global warming, all of it, was rectified.  When the Powers that had created the huge area we lived in, everything had been perfect.  Earth as we called this planet had been set as the cornerstone of the universe.  On earth, the only planet that was inhabited by intelligent life, this town had been created.  She couldn’t explain and I wouldn’t have understood if she had, but somehow this small city, because of vibrations, or whatever, kept the entire universe, everything in a sate of balance. She told me a lot more as we sat in my car looking at the moon as it traveled across the heavens.  But that was the gist of her story.        “So if you leave in two days there will be what, 4,999 people here?  That will cause the entire universe to what, explode or implode?”        “Actually that number would be 4,998.  When my husband left ten months ago we no longer had the correct amount of people here.  The city council assumed one of the couples would have a child.  Margaret O’Brien and her husband David Nivens were expecting a child, but the baby was stillborn.  None of the other couples that are pregnant are ready to deliver in the next two days.”        “Come on now.  You’re saying only so many children can be born.  Do people die?”        “Yes of course, we’re all just humans as all of the people out there are where you came from.  The balance has been maintained.  Whenever someone dies a baby is born to take that person’s place.  That is why the realignment is done once a year, that allows time for children to be conceived and born should an older person pass away.  It’s been that way for thousands of years.  No one has ever just left, until my husband did.  So, when Humphrey left the balance was jeopardized because no children are due.”        “Humphrey?  Not, Bogart?”        “Why yes how do you know?  Did Bob tell you?”        “The names, Humphrey Bogart, Lauren Bacall, Abraham Lincoln, Benjamin Franklin these are all famous people from the history of the United States of America.   What’s that about?”        “I don’t understand.  Each child that is born is given a name.  I don’t know how the council picks a name.  They just do.”  Lauren said.        “What do you mean they are given names, aren’t their last names the same as their father’s?  And you, didn’t you become Lauren Bogart when you married?”        “No, why should the children have the same last name as their parents and why should mine have changed?”  Lauren said.        The sun was barely peeking above the horizon and I still didn’t understand what Lauren was trying to tell me.  Or perhaps my brain just wasn’t accepting the information it was receiving.            “Let’s go talk to Bob, perhaps he can explain it better then I can.”  Lauren said.  “I know they’ll be upset with me but I think you were sent here, you were meant to be part of the town.”  That was almost the same thing Bob had told Ben.        She directed me to a house two down from where I’d slept, it seemed like years ago.  At my knock Bob opened the door.  He motioned us in and I saw sitting on chairs the couch and recliners twelve men.  I recognized Ben, Abe and Bob the rest were strangers.        “John, these are the men of the council.  We’ve been discussing you all evening.   We haven’t come to an agreement yet but most of us feel you were sent.  Never in the history of the town has an outsider become a citizen of Balance.  I assume Lauren has told you some of what this town’s role is in the universe.  In two days we believe the entire universe will crack.  We believe there will be a giant implosion and all material will become one giant ball.  We also believe if this happens that will be the end of all living organisms for all of eternity, unless the creators choose to rebuild.  Ben and I saw you looking at the goods in our places of businesses.  I know, no labels.  We don’t know where all these things come from.  They appear in the storage room next to what we call the city hall.  The town deals in money but that is really only there to insure everyone works and does his or her share.  All of the income that comes in is redistributed in various ways and it just keeps cycling through the town.  Do you have any questions we could answer?”        “He knows too much already.  If he decides not to stay, and I’m still not convinced he should, he’ll go back out there and we’ll have hundreds, maybe thousands of people coming here looking for us.  Perhaps they will find us, maybe not.  No one has ever been able to go through the shield, till Bogart did, and now here is this man.   Perhaps it is time for things to end, but that is not our call, we can’t make that decision.”  A stern looking Abe Lincoln said.        “Where do you get the names you assign to newly born babies?”  I asked.        “A list appears with the goods and that’s what we use.”        “I see.  So what I’m hearing is that this small town, not found on any map, peopled by citizens with names I’m familiar with, famous names, a town with no connection to the outside is solely responsible for keeping life going as we on the outside know it.”        “Yes.”          “How are people kept from coming here, and how did Humphrey get out and how and how the hell did I end up here?”        “What is hell?”  Ben piped up.        “Never mind, answer my question.”        “There is a barrier that has been in place since time began.  How you and Bogart penetrated it, we don’t know.  But some of us believe you were sent here to maintain the balance that is needed.” “That being the case since this has never happened, someone leaving or someone getting in, you have no way of knowing for certain any of this will happen, this destruction you so firmly believe in?”  The men looked at each other.  I could see indecision in their faces and fear, a lot of fear.   “How many of you believe I should stay?”  After some shifting around the men walked into another room.  Lauren and I waited.  Finally Bob came out. “We have decided, you should stay.” “Why?”  I asked. “Whether you were delivered to us or not, your being here will insure the correct number of citizens in the town when the time comes.  I firmly believe you were sent.” “And if I don’t stay?“ “We don’t know.” My head was spinning.  I’d run a lot of cons in my life and this smelled like the grand dad of them all.   But cons were set up for a purpose, what was the purpose here, to make me stay?  What good would a broken down, con man, pool hustler be to these people?  I had a lot of money in my trunk but according to them, money was just a way of keeping score, and it was always recycled.  I needed to get out of this house and think.  The only one that’s unbalanced right now is, me. I decided.  My head was spinning. “I’ve got to think, I’ll be back.”  I said and left. Lauren followed me. “Let’s go to my house.  I’ll fix us a meal then we can sort this out.   I want you to stay of course, but not for the same reasons they want.  Well, maybe partly.”  We went to her house and she cooked breakfast. Two eggs, biscuits and several cups of coffee later my body felt fine, my head was still churning with the information I’d been given.        We stayed there all day, we took turns in the bathroom and she lent me some clothes her husband had left behind.  As night slowly crept in we held each other on the couch kissing and caressing.  This led us to the bed.  I had made love, had sex with many women.  As we lay holding each other afterward, I realized those had been purely physical acts, this was making love, because I felt for Lauren something I’d never before encountered.  Love, I supposed.          “It’s nearly midnight, is that when everything is supposed is to happen?”        “No, the day doesn’t begin and end in the middle of the night.  Sunset of this coming day will be the end of the 30th and the beginning of February one.” *  *  *        I still haven’t decided what to do.  I’m sitting at the edge of town in my small car.  I left Lauren behind, the only woman I’ve ever loved.  The look she gave me as I walked out of the house broke my heart.  I still half believe this is some kind of elaborate con.   Ahead of me is a blue haze.  Above me the sun moves inexorably toward the horizon, each minute I sit here draws me closer to sundown.   If I drive through the mist I will once again be on the outside.  When I get to there what will I find, Lazarus’ men waiting to kill me?  Perhaps they won’t have the chance.  Perhaps they and me and all of mankind will die in a horrifying imploding of all material.  What lies ahead of me, death and destruction?  Will my leaving cause death and destruction for everyone on earth?    I’m not qualified to make this type of decision, I’m just a slum boy, a pool hustler, a thief and a liar.  Behind is Lauren.  The most exquisite woman I’ve ever known.  Even now my heart aches to be with her.          What will I do? The End                  Copyright by Lionel A. LaVergne.