Chapter 2: A City Boy No More

This paragraph is a “clean” printing of the misspelling, malapropisms and slang found in the handwritten scrawl Peter left. Commas and apostrophes have been inserted to indicate missing letters.

Howdy. Sometime Ah’d rathah be in tha city, then aga’n Ah don’ s’ppose Ah be havin’ all ‘em fine wimen tah myself. Wasn’ always this way. Ah born and raise in Nu Orleens. Even got diploma from high school. Only six foot three, blon’ hair, blue eye, whi’ kid in hole damn school. Even play cen’er feeil fer they baseball team and lettah three year. Army induckted me 39 day after fukin’ war begin’ but give me to be 18 and do my gradashun in May before showin’ up fer duty. Guess Ah lucky ‘cause Ah sahvive tha war. After tha war Ah come up here. Seems Ah onlah sahvivah in fam’ly. One o’ mah distan’ cousin er uncle leave me a big ‘ol 40 room manshon way out in countree.

The remainder of this document will print and translate his words conventionally.

Howdy. Sometimes I’d rather be in city, then again, I wouldn’t have all these fine looking wimen. Wasn’t always this way. I was born and raised in New Orleans. I was only six-foot three inch tall, blond haired, blue eyed, white kid in the whole damn school. I even played center field for their baseball team and lettered three years straight. The United States Army induckted me 39 days after that fucking war began but allowed to stay in school, be 18 and graduate in May before reporting up for duty. I was lucky and somehow survived that war. After the war I came up here. Seemed like I was the only survivor in my entire family. One of my distant cousins or uncles left me this big 40 room mansion located way out in the cuntree.

Stop! Sorry. I ain’t properly introduce myself. Name is Peter Reagans. Momma never say much about my dad or the origins name. Most likely, she never marry. She never use missus or Mrs. like a marry wiman. Her two married sisters had different names, Romero and Robert. Funny all names start R. Both sisters always say she done wrong but never gave details. By the way, Robert be a French Creole name and pronounced ‘row bear.’

When I five Mom marry a black man named Arthur Perry. We moved out our apartment in Metairie and into his big house way out in Nu Orleens East. His boy and girl also live with us. The nayborhood mostly Veetmeese and black people with some Hispanic folk. I got along with everyone. For few year all us kids was in same grammar school. Mom and Arthur work in different deparmens at Lockheed-Martin in nearby Michoud Facility.

Damn war change ... ruin everything. I came home really late day it began and see everyone in misery and suffering from losses. Momma never get over emotional, physical or financial misery war cause. Arthur and his kids die six days after the ABC Alliance hit us with poison and sickness. Mom also lost her sisters and nephews. Both sisters was nurses. Momma never have money or time to proper bury people. So many was just put in ground without a preacher. War demand everyone work. When war finally end all misery stay on people. Wasn’t much time after I come home that Momma wander off. One morning woke up and she gone. She never said where she going, why she going or ‘good-bye.’ I never had chance to look for her. Wasn’t no police or others left to help. So sad. Never found her body. Maybe she jumped in lake or hide off somewhere finding peace and die happy with big overdose. I stay alone in house almost two years without paying any money to bank or morgage.

Sorry. I got away from what I want to say. One cold day Janary, out of nowhere I got a phone call asking me to meet with several lawyahs downtown. Really wasn’t sure call legit but I was desperate for a job so took a chance and agreed for meeting. I showered, shaved then dress in best (only) slacks, shirt, socks and shoes had left. After walking to corner of Chef Menteur and Michoud had to wait long time for bus. Two hours after getting on bus got off very crowded bus at Canal and Claiborne, then start walking to the old Pan American Insurance Building on Poydras and Camp. While walking there had to find quiet shelter in a doorway no one using then bang on man monster. Ain’t lying! Honest! Ain’t never seen so many nekid wimen walking streets. Most wasn’t really nekid cause they wearing a T-dress but damn, see right through cloth and not one wearing panties or bra. Some only wear short skirt or rags hanging from hip. Even seen a few wimen nekid. Seeing bare titties in a house one thing, seeing all these wimen showing titties and cunny in public was like crazy dream come true.

Every clothing store on Canal Street got clotheses statues (manikins) in iron cage. When saw prices know why all locked up and why all them nekid wimen walking around. Ain’t never know much about wimen clothing but know they never have prices this high: bra $260.00; panties $26.00; simple blue and white printed dress $390.00; peasant blouse with pink trim $278.00; jeans $520.00...

Before war no store dare have wild high ass prices. Since damn war wimen tell me best clothes was made and sold by people from ABC Alliance. American people show freedom and defiance by not wearing overprice clotheses from enemies. Saw one job said pay $65.00 for expereeance manager. Most job like carpenter, painter or mechanic pay 25 cents an hour. No way anyone buy clotheses! Wages ain’t been that low for way over censhury.

Just for fun I turn off Canal and walk up Baronne to Poydras, even walk on uptown side street so I can see dark orangey-red granite on old Pan American Insurance Building. I been there a few time before war, even took mom to a real nice Mother’s Day buffet inside the InterContinental Hotel. Hotel was lock tight. Big heavy glass door to Pan Am Building lobby was prop open with big rock. A police standing at the door asking everyone for name and why they came here. Another was inside the big lobby atrium. The heavy slightly bumpy orangey-red granite floor wasn’t shiny as I remember. Only light come through windows. Only got one fan for that big ol’ hot stuffy lobby. Less than a minute later other police was standing by me as wiman at desk writing my name on papers. My my! Her T-dress was so thin everyone see two fine titties with big pink nippies and no trouble seeing her hair pie. Wasn’t for that police pointing to some wobbly metal chairs I’d ... well anyway knew best to sit. While waiting for name be called get real eye full wimen walking around. Some like that gal write my name was wearing a T-dress. Others said was wearing what pass for skirt and halter top. Man monster stayed riled. Did I tell you T-dress ain’t nothing but two pieces thin homemade cloth cut like the letter T and sew togethah.

Every so often one of those wimen would hand the police papers for someone sitting on a chair and waiting like me. When the poor soul’s name was called that police strapped security thing to wrist. Sure glad when a wiman in T-dress call my name. Moment later a police put one them devices on my wrist I walk to elevators and press buttons. One instant later thing on my wrist send so much electricity thought I was a goner. Took more than few seconds to recover. I got the message and quickly followed a wiman in T-dress to the stairwell. She said offices of Bertram and Kershaw up on nineteenth floor so start climbing because only elevator working be for tenants.

By the time I got to the nineteenth floor I was hot, sweaty and breathing hard. After opening the door to the nineteenth floor and entering a stuffy dim lit hallway I walked to offices of Bertram and Kershaw right in front of elevator. After entering the fairly bright offices I knocked on side of open check-in window cause didn’t have bell. Had clear view into office cause window glass gone and no one replace it. A wiman wearing a dress sort of thing took my name then told me wait. Two chairs there look so old and ratty, no way was sitting on them. I stood waiting right there. Saw her titties with cute little pink nippies wobbling every time she doing work on her desk. She stop working, stand, turn to me then take her dress off and get angry. “Get a good look!”

Oh shit! Man monster riled again and should have said ‘sorry’ but words wasn’t in my head. All got worse when she open door to offices and she tell me follow her. Watching her bare ass sway and titties bounce while following her through warm stuffy ain’t easy. Seeing more wimen with no clotheses on top sweating and working really my man monster. By time I got to the conference room my man monster so steely riled took every cold thought to keep from banging off. While waiting in the conference room I look across the hall into another small office and see a man furiously fucking a wiman from the rear. Although both were naked I couldn’t say if he was in her cunt or ass until she screaming for him to pull out cause she don’t want his baby or preggy. Moment he kicked the door shut I got real angry cause couldn’t see them fucking.

By time my man monster was almost down two men wearing shorts and T-shirts enter conference room. One was a bit messed up and breathing hard. No doubt, he the mother fucker. Didn’t feel comftable shaking hands so pull back but did give name and greeting as sat down to business. Few minutes later they shoving so many papers needing my signature that ain’t no way to know what they about. Do sort of remember them talking about apartment and office buildings plus businesses, stocks, bonds, land and a 40 room manshon out in cuntree near some small town I never hear about. They also talk about guy name Charles Samuels many time. Truth, I never know anyone with that name. Seem I only survivor in the entire family so all that stuff and money soon be mine. We agree all this legal and business stuff had to be secret and make date to visit 40 room manshon soon. On the way out saw the woian he fucked sitting by her desk naked, looking messed up and crying. All way home on only crowded ratty old bus going way out Michoud way I almost believing fairy tales come true.