Read Online TIME AND TIME AGAIN The sequel to 3037 by Peggy Holloway - Free Book Online
Authors: Peggy Holloway
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back his head and laughed, “It’s not going to bother you to ride with me, knowing I will be breaking the law?”
“It was a stupid law, anyway,” I said and then I asked a question I had suspected all along. “B y the way, y our last name wouldn’t be Capone, would it?”
He had been shoveling pot roast and mashed potatoes in his mouth. Now he put his fork and knife down and pointed his finger at me, “You know things. I’ve read about people like you. ” He slapped the table and it made such a loud noise, I jumped.
“Yeah, go to New Orleans with me, Ashley. You can probably help me with the law if I get stopped. You want to go too, Rita?”
It was settled, we would all leave right after supper. I helped Rita and Pippin clean up the kitchen and then she packed a bag for herself and Al and a small one for me. She had decided to keep most of the clothes from our shopping spree for herself.
Al had left while we were cleaning up saying he was going to change cars. When he pulled up outside he was driving a flat black old model-T ford.
It was a very frightening trip for me. Al drove most of the way without his headlights turned on. Rita slept most of the way, leaning her head on Al’s shoulder. I was too scared to sleep .
CHAPTER 17
We went around a hairpin turn on the two lane blacktop and a police car was sitting in the middle of the road. Al slammed on brakes and turned his wheel to the left so that we skidded almost against the cop car on the side I was sitting on.
There were two cops, one with a big beer belly and one rail skinny. The one with the belly hitched his pants up in the back and left the front under his belly.
“Something wrong with y’all’s lights, son?” He drawled and I r ealized we were no long in the N orth.
I spoke up without looking at the other two, “It’s my fault, officer. I dared him to see if he could drive through here with no lights. I know it was stupid and dangerous and I’m sorry.”
“You wouldn’t be Al Capon, by any chance, would you?” He asked looking at Al.
“Yes sir, that’s my name.”
“You’re out of your territory, aren’t you, Mr. Capone? What are you do ing down here?”
“He’s taking me back home to New Orleans,” I spoke up again. “I was in Chicago visiting with Al and Rita and now they’re taking me home. They also wanted to see New Orleans. They’ve never been there before.”
He eyed me suspiciously, “Uh, huh, never been there before. Well since I don’t have a search warrant, I can’t search the car, and we all know what’s in there. So I’ll just charge you a $100 fine,” He said holding out his hand.
Al got out of the car and they walked ar ound the back where he opened the trunk and took something out and handed to the cop. He then peeled off some bills from the roll and handed them to him. The cop put the bills in his front pocket and the bottle under his shirt, got in his car and left.
“Does that happen often ?” I asked
He smiled and winked at me, “All the time.”
New Orleans looked really different in the 1920s. The buildings in the French Quarter looked newer and the only music I heard was Jazz. The strippers didn’t take off as much, but seemed to do it with more class. Most of the clubs were known as speakeasies and honky tonks.
Al and Rita seemed to know a lot of people and introduced me to Billy Holiday. There was a photographer taking pictures in the club we were in and Rita and I had our picture made with Billy Holiday and the owner framed it and put it on the wall with other famous people. I was hoping Joe would see it in the future and know where I was.
Later in the evening, while Al was sitting at a table with some mafia-looking men, Rita and I sat at another table and ordered bourbon and listened to Billy Holiday sing. I got chills listening to her.
The next morning Rita and Al said goodbye and Al gave me a
“It was a stupid law, anyway,” I said and then I asked a question I had suspected all along. “B y the way, y our last name wouldn’t be Capone, would it?”
He had been shoveling pot roast and mashed potatoes in his mouth. Now he put his fork and knife down and pointed his finger at me, “You know things. I’ve read about people like you. ” He slapped the table and it made such a loud noise, I jumped.
“Yeah, go to New Orleans with me, Ashley. You can probably help me with the law if I get stopped. You want to go too, Rita?”
It was settled, we would all leave right after supper. I helped Rita and Pippin clean up the kitchen and then she packed a bag for herself and Al and a small one for me. She had decided to keep most of the clothes from our shopping spree for herself.
Al had left while we were cleaning up saying he was going to change cars. When he pulled up outside he was driving a flat black old model-T ford.
It was a very frightening trip for me. Al drove most of the way without his headlights turned on. Rita slept most of the way, leaning her head on Al’s shoulder. I was too scared to sleep .
CHAPTER 17
We went around a hairpin turn on the two lane blacktop and a police car was sitting in the middle of the road. Al slammed on brakes and turned his wheel to the left so that we skidded almost against the cop car on the side I was sitting on.
There were two cops, one with a big beer belly and one rail skinny. The one with the belly hitched his pants up in the back and left the front under his belly.
“Something wrong with y’all’s lights, son?” He drawled and I r ealized we were no long in the N orth.
I spoke up without looking at the other two, “It’s my fault, officer. I dared him to see if he could drive through here with no lights. I know it was stupid and dangerous and I’m sorry.”
“You wouldn’t be Al Capon, by any chance, would you?” He asked looking at Al.
“Yes sir, that’s my name.”
“You’re out of your territory, aren’t you, Mr. Capone? What are you do ing down here?”
“He’s taking me back home to New Orleans,” I spoke up again. “I was in Chicago visiting with Al and Rita and now they’re taking me home. They also wanted to see New Orleans. They’ve never been there before.”
He eyed me suspiciously, “Uh, huh, never been there before. Well since I don’t have a search warrant, I can’t search the car, and we all know what’s in there. So I’ll just charge you a $100 fine,” He said holding out his hand.
Al got out of the car and they walked ar ound the back where he opened the trunk and took something out and handed to the cop. He then peeled off some bills from the roll and handed them to him. The cop put the bills in his front pocket and the bottle under his shirt, got in his car and left.
“Does that happen often ?” I asked
He smiled and winked at me, “All the time.”
New Orleans looked really different in the 1920s. The buildings in the French Quarter looked newer and the only music I heard was Jazz. The strippers didn’t take off as much, but seemed to do it with more class. Most of the clubs were known as speakeasies and honky tonks.
Al and Rita seemed to know a lot of people and introduced me to Billy Holiday. There was a photographer taking pictures in the club we were in and Rita and I had our picture made with Billy Holiday and the owner framed it and put it on the wall with other famous people. I was hoping Joe would see it in the future and know where I was.
Later in the evening, while Al was sitting at a table with some mafia-looking men, Rita and I sat at another table and ordered bourbon and listened to Billy Holiday sing. I got chills listening to her.
The next morning Rita and Al said goodbye and Al gave me a
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