Deacon and Daiyu- Adventures in the Daiyuverse

Deacon in the Daiyuverse Story 2- The Fool

Nanita St. Pierre was a damn fine-looking woman. She wasn't really pretty, her face had strange proportions. Enormous round eyes, a pert almost too cute nose, big oval lips all set against skin rich and brown, lent her a habitually doll like malevolent look. The sort of woman who, depending on the day and the moment could charm with a slight quick of her lips or send grown men scampering away with a lift of an eyebrow. She was formidable if tiny, soft in that way of certain Creole people, and everything about her from her big proud afro puffs to her cute long chubby toes made Deacon Brodie feel right at home upon his return to the world.

Deacon Brodie had been unceremoniously booted from his home, he'd traveled a bit and settled like an uneasy bird in New Orleans. It wasn't home and he wandered from tiny bar to tiny bar, always far out of the Quarter and away from the yammering hordes of tourists. When he met Nanita St. Pierre she was lounging in a booth in a dirty little bar called Big Mama's Juke and Sundry. He liked her face and long legs, and big feet but he liked her attitude more. When he slowed his walk to look her over she looked up at him with those big black eyes.

"Nothin' for sale here white man. Unless you want to go back to that bar, buy me a bottle of Beam and maybe I'll let you talk to me."

"Yes ma'am."

He resisted smiling at her and turned on his heel to buy the requisite bottle and on looking back at her decided to get a bit of advice from the surly old bartender.

"Tell me sir, what might a man do to get in the good graces of that beautiful, barefoot woman sitting over there?"

The bartender chuckled.

"You are gonna need this here, and a pack of these and if you don't want to find yourself cursed, some manners."

The bartender slid a fifth of Beam and a pack of some foreign cigarettes across the bar with a knowing smile. Deacon knew that smile, he understood when he was in danger and he really didn't care.

"Thank you, kindly sir."

When Deacon got back to the table, the woman was lazily shuffling tarot cards and waiting for him. He sat down, poured her a drink and lit her a cigarette.

"You mind if I try one of these?"

She shrugged and started laying out the cards.

"Go ahead dead man."

One by one she turned cards over, her dark eyes on her work. Deacon lit up one of the foreign smokes and grimaced.

"God damn. Tastes like the first door to hell."

She chuckled and examined his cards.

"The French still do some things, right don't they? Say oui?"

Deacon smiled and leaned back to watch her.

"So, madame sorcière, what should I call you?"

She took her time answering, looking between the cards and his face.

"Nanita. And you are?"

He didn't reach to shake her hand or try to kiss it as he might have if he was going to try and seduce her. Something about her, told him not to take that particular route.

"Deacon, or as my brother calls me Rotton Bastard. Whatever suits your fancy."

"Well, Deacon. I'd say it's nice to meet you but, normally I don't speak to non-human entities voluntarily. Are you here for me?"

Deacon shook his head.

"I don't believe so. I wasn't drawn to this place that way."

Nanita nodded, consulted her cards once more and shook her head slightly.

"I've been waiting for you. My cards, they don't lie but boy do they prevaricate. Welcome back to the world. You need something to do, don't you?"

Deacon shrugged and picked his drink up.

"I suppose I do. Otherwise I might just get in trouble."

Hours passed, the little bar closed and the bartender left their little booth light on. Nanita had her feet in Deacon's lap and a wry smile on her face.

"So, what you're telling me is that I'm gonna meet some girl, and my Gods and her Gods already been made plans?"

"Yes, sir they have. Now, I shouldn't tell you this but the girl is my future ex-wife. She's a little witch from Seattle and she'll be here in about a week. Y'all will meet in about four months or so."

Deacon couldn't hide his feelings and he looked dubious. It wasn't that he didn't believe in magic, he did. He'd seen things far stranger than witches and he himself wasn't even human strictly speaking. The whole idea of divination on that level felt absurd to him.

"Four months? Why four not say six or ten?"

Nanita rolled her cigarette between her fingers, examined the cherry and shook her head a little.

"I get her first. For a while at least. Now come on, take me home."

Deacon understood from her tone that he could do as he was told and learn more about the girl and the job and his new life. Or he could kiss her on her pretty brown cheek, tip the bartender well and walk out. He did have a home. He could go back to the swamp and the critters and bullshit or, he could do the bidding of the sorceress with her dirty feet in his lap. 

He tugged her long big toe and nodded.

"Yes, ma'am. I'll bring the car around."

She slid her feet out of his lap and threw a tarot card at him as he rose. He snatched it out of the air and smiled when he turned it, 

"yes ma'am."

He tucked the card into his pocket, smiling as he turned to pay up and fetch the card. He murmured to himself, "yes ma'am I am."