Suddenly, Thomas went silent. Was this really a good idea? The dubious thoughts struck for the last time and as if in a trance, Thomas slipped off the stool--away from the enticing female, much to her displeasure--and towards the entrance. The heavy bass of the music seemed to fade as panic ran through his veins. The recurring fear of getting caught in this illegal place raised the level of his already racing heart.
I… need to get out. I can’t compete against everyone here, maybe I am just a wet blanket. This… This is not going to go well.
Pushing brusquely through the hoards of people crowded in the rather small space, it seemed his body had made his mind up for him.
“Thomas? Thomas!”
Even if Eli called out to him, Thomas continued in his stride out the doors from which he came. The pace at which he walked sped up as he neared the exit and increased as he pushed through the inner doors. Paying no attention to the estranged look the bartender shot him, he carried on in his frenzied pace until he finally burst through outer doors and back into the crisp night air.
The darkness of the nearly abandoned street seemed to magnify his fear. Thomas began to jog, preparing himself for the 3 and a half mile journey it took to get from Louisiana Avenue to the Tremè.
By the time his body finally gave out from the nervous sprint, he was already back in the safety of his scrappy little flat and into the sheets of his creaking bed.
Light tricked through the thin, rag-like curtains hanging from the spidery curtain rod and Thomas sat up with a start. Memories from the night before came rushing back and he ran a hand through his mussed hair. Taking in the familiar view of his room, he let out a enormous sigh of relief.
It was time to get ready for work again.
The dreary work day seemed to drag on even more slowly than usual. As the sky blue color of the day began to bleed into a darker, more ominous purple, curiosity jabbed at his guilty conscious and Thomas couldn’t help but wonder what kinds of things Eli was doing. Was he off at another speakeasy, getting himself into more trouble than should be legal? Had he found a girl of his own…?
Nearing the outskirts of the Tremè, he spotted a rather large gaggle of people, grouped into a what looked like a rushing wave. Upon closer inspection, Thomas heard shouts, cries of outrage, and the maliciously. An uprising?
He exhaled lowly, subconsciously walking closer. Among the surging group, Thomas caught sight of skin a completely different shade than the usual color around this neighborhood and a feeling of dread pooled in the pit of his stomach. His feet moved faster and faster until he stopped suddenly, mouth hanging agape. Lord, what happened now-- His blood ran cold at the sight, a trembling man stood, looking quite infuriated in the hands of two jeering white men.
“Eli…” The name came out as a soft whisper but Eli still heard it.
Thomas’ mind raced when Eli’s brown eyes caught him behind the building corner. Colored people had often been discriminated against but never had the victim been so close to him. His fists clenched and he started towards his friend, but something in his mind seemed to hold him back. Those white men were familiar. This could lead to some serious consequences. Oh Lord, what do those people want with Eli?