The Quarter was steeped in musical tradition and Jack thought that sometimes he could hear the wail of those departed souls that played here in the 'Big Easy'. He felt a closeness to those spirits of the past. Somehow, to him, they were still here.
     As he sat by the river banks, perhaps for the last time, he pitched stones across the black water watching them skip through the choppiness. His thoughts were on Sally and his little daughter, Laura Beth. She would be about two years old, now.

"Black and blue.  I'm white inside, it don't help my case, _____ Cause I can't hide what is on my face, ooh! I'm so for-lorn, - life's just a thorn, - my heart is torn,___ why was I born?..."

From the tune, "Black & Blue"

A Young, But Growing Jack Dupree

     He followed her up the stairs, watching her stocking clad legs climb each step, exposing more thigh the higher she moved. She had a small waist that curved nicely downward into hips that were pressed tightly against her short dress. He smelled her cologne, lying delicately on the staircase before him. Entering her apartment a few steps behind, he placed the groceries on the kitchen table, still smelling her pleasant scent. He watched her pick up a glass while opening the ice box.
     "Would you like a cool drink?" she asked.
     He stood motionless and watched her drop ice cubes into a glass, filling it with water from a pitcher. She turned on the Victrola and gracefully moved about the room while the music filled the apartment. It was some kind of Latin beat, he thought. He shuddered as she kicked off her spiked heels.

     Before the day ended they made love again. The first time was lost in rampant anticipation somewhere on her smooth thighs. That embarrassed him. But this time was better. He was more in control. He felt her fists press hard against his side. He thought the excitement would never end. He hoped, at least, it wouldn't. Life would never be the same again. He was a man, he thought. At least, he was no longer a virgin!

Jack Arrives in Saint Louis

     "Cold emp-ty bed - springs hard as lead, - Pains in my head, - feel like old Ned, What did I do to be so black and blue?"

     The tune, "Black & Blue", drifted onto the street from the open bar-room door, meeting the dusk with that certain grace the blues have been known to create in the soul of man. Jack had arrived in St. Louis. He straightened his crooked brown cap and looked hard at the seediness of the neighborhood near the train station. He heard the screech of a cat and then some bottles breaking in an alley. He moved along quickly.

     Jack found his way to the river. He just stood looking out over the shimmering blackness of the water as the night swallowed the river banks. He felt the coolness blow against his face and the shivers run through his body. It was early summer, but a certain rawness was present in the air.

     The distant clang of a buoy brought him back to the moment. It was time to return to the train station and get his luggage. It was time to face Aunt Clara and his new home. Carrying his old clarinet, he had visions of continuing his musical education in school with this instrument and maybe getting a better one someday soon.

When a house is not a home

     Clara Peachmont's property had large lawns that surrounded a three story Victorian house with red German siding. The tall trees with long, heavy branches seemed to dwarf Jack as he stood beneath them.

      "I think it's time to see some . . . some of the, 'houses'." Jack said, a note of brashness in his voice.
      Aunt Clara popped her head back. "What? Did you say you want to visit the ' business'?

        He realized now she thought he wanted to patronize one of the bordellos. While he thought that was not a bad idea . . . well, at least he wouldn't push such a scenario as that right now.

     Sunday afternoon, Harris, Aunt Clara's colored chauffeur, and Jack, pulled up in front of a large  old stone mansion in East St. Louis. It was a bordello.

       "Please, Aunt Clara. I'm not asking to be a customer. I just wanna see what they're like. You know, curiosity and all that stuff."

He moved to the piano and lifted the cover from the keyboard. Just then, a woman wearing a flowing feathered gown came bouncing into the room. Her face, white as alabaster, was surrounded by long red curls. A large gold cigarette holder was stuck in one corner of her painted mouth as the smoke curled upward in swirling ringlets. She supported it with two fingers.

      She looked at him with a curious expression, started to speak but then she paused. He could tell it would be alright. While she was thinking she twisted the curls in her hair. That was usually a good sign.
      "Sunday, after church. No customers will be there. I will have my chauffeur take you to the big one across the river. Forget the girls, okay? Is that a deal?"

A Visit From Penny - Goodbys

The figure of a girl stood in the driveway, watching as Jack struggled to get a better look.
     "My, God!" exclaimed Jack. He now saw the trim figure of Penny and waved while calling her name.
      "You alone. Jackie?" You oughta be ashamed being outside half naked like that."
      "Penny, wow! It's good to see you. Is something wrong? Why are you here?"
      "Is your aunt home, Jack?"
      "No, she is away for the day. Is that a suitcase you have there?"
      "Yea, I'm going back home to Kentucky. I need a rest and I'm tired of being a pin-cushion for every guy with a hard-on and a few bucks to spend. Not complain'en you understand, I did well. I gave as good as I got. Your aunt's a peach, Jack."

      Penny acknowledged his fears with a laugh, moving into a better position for intercourse. Jack felt the excitement as he slid effortlessly inside her. He felt her move just slightly beneath him. He kissed her, gently on the lips, as the moments slipped by and his movements more energetic.
      "Easy, boy! Easy! I'm not a horse. Slow and easy, Jackie. Yea, right there, Jackie," spoke Penny in a soft whisper. As Penny climaxed it was in a quiet, but powerful movement. Jack, sweating profusely now, joined her as they squirmed with heart pounding movements.

      Shortly after, Jack asked her about the man who made her pregnant. "Didn't he give you the same feeling?"
      "What? Are you kidden? I'm not even sure who the bastard was. What I just taught you, Jackie, is not new. A man who can do this can slip his semen into a gal so subtle like, that before the big one comes the damage is done. Also, when a man uses a rubber it can become damaged - by accident or on purpose. Some men enjoy trying to make us pregnant."