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"Why? Why, honey, it's Mardi Gras."

"Oh . . . no," I said, thinking to myself that it was the worst time to go, not the best. I had read and heard about New Orleans at Mardi Gras. I should have realized that was why she was all dressed up. The whole city would be festive. It wasn't the best time to arrive on my real father's doorstep.

"You act like you just stepped out of the swamp, honey."

I took a deep breath and nodded. She laughed.

"My name's Annie Gray," she said, offering her slim, smooth hand. I took it and shook. She had pretty rings on all her fingers, but one ring, the one on her pinky, looked like it was made out of bone and shaped like a tiny skull.

"I'm Ruby, Ruby Landry."

"Pleased to meet you. You got relatives in New Orleans?" she asked.

"Yes," I said. "But I haven't seen them . . . ever."

"Oh, ain't that somethin'?"

The bus driver closed the door and started the bus away from the station. My heart began to race as I saw us drive by stores and houses I had known all my life. We passed the church and then the school, moving over the road I had walked almost every day of my life. Then we paused at an intersection and the bus turned in the direction of New Orleans. I had seen the road sign many times, and many times dreamt of following it. Now I was. In moments we were flying down the highway and Houma was falling farther and farther behind. I couldn't help but look back.

"Don't look back," Annie Gray said quickly. "What? Why not?"

"Bad luck," she replied.

I spun around to face forward.

"What?"

"Bad luck. Quick, cross yourself three times," she prescribed. I saw she was serious and so I did it.

"I don't need any more of that," I said. That made her laugh. She leaned forward and picked up her cloth bag. Then she dug into it and came up with something to place in my hand. I stared at it.

"What's this?" I asked.

"Piece of neck bone from a black cat. It's grisgris," she said. Seeing I was still confused, she added, "a magical charm to bring you good luck. My grandmere gave it to me. Voodoo," she added in a whisper.

"Oh. Well, I don't want to take your good luck piece," I said, handing it back. She shook her head.

"Bad luck for me to take it back now and worse luck for you to give it," she said. "I got plenty more, honey. Don't worry about that. Go on," she said, forcing me to wrap my fingers around the cat bone. "Put it away, but carry it with you all the time."

"Thank you," I said, and slipped it into my bag.

"I bet these relatives of yours are excited about seeing you, huh?"

"No," I said.

She tilted her head and smiled with confusion. "No? Don't they know you're comin'?"

I looked at her for a moment and then I looked forward again, straightening myself up in the seat.

"No," I said. "They don't even know I exist," I added.

The bus shot forward, its headlights slicking through the night, carrying me onward toward the future that awaited, a future just as dark and mysterious and as frightening as the unlit highway.

Book Two

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