Phil unlocked the hotel room door and dropped Serita's bags on the floor."Monsieur et Mademoiselle, votre suite fantastique," he said. We were in the Hotel Richmond, an old but upscale establishment on Bourbon Street, complete with wrought-iron decked balcony overlooking the rich pageant of the French Quarter."Get some rest. Get room service- the Coq au Vin is terrific, have it with a little Bourbon over cracked ice.We're going to Poteet's tonight, but I'll meet you at the Old Absinthe first.8 o'clock."

I lay down on the bed, watching the ceiling fan swirling over my head. Serita opened the french doors that led to the balcony."No air conditioning?" I said. "No," she said,"hot and sultry, the way the Delta should be." As I watched, she stripped off her clothes and stood silhouetted in the doorway. She placed a cigarette in her lips and lit it, inhaling deeply. The heavy sweet funk of marijuana filled the room."That shit'll make you crazy,"I said. She smiled and turned to look at me. Against the afternoon light, her naked body was hard to make out as she strode toward me. She knelt by the bed and placed the joint near my lips."Toke?" she smiled."Makes sex quite interesting." I glanced toward the phone on the nightstand."Why don't we order up a bottle- I'd rather have a whiskey." She smiled again."Don't you find it dulls the senses?" She took another pull on the joint."Alright," I said."Just one for old times' sake." I laughed. The doobie was rolled in pink cinnamon-flavored paper."Nothing but the best.." I said. She poured a glass of ice water from a silver pitcher on the dresser, took a sip, handed it to me.Her body shown in the lamplight, tiny beads of perspiration on her skin."It's hot," she said. A drop of sweat traced a line between her breasts and paused above her navel. I caught a cube of ice in my teeth and sat up on the bed, placing my hands in the small of her back and pulling her toward me. She smelled of musk as I pushed the ice against the place on her belly where the droplet had stopped. Slowly I slid the ice up her body, as if erasing the track of the hot moisture. She gasped, her fingers tangling in the hair on the back of my head. I pulled her onto the bed, and we fell together, kissing with eyes wide open and locked into each other.

"This is where it starts," I said. "What?" she whispered."The Blues," I said,"the Real Blues..."