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"Bayous, Books & Balls - A Cajun Love Story//Chapter One//1st Revision" by PaulBourgeois

A period novel set in the a Southern university where a brilliant linguist confront the web of political, social, and university intrigue that, coupled with an illicit affiar, cause him to almost lose everything before he saves himself.

Category: Book: 1st Chapter

Tags: Fiction Novel Literary//Mainstream Ethnic

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BAYOUS, BOOKS & BALLS - A CAJUN LOVE STORY

By

Paul J. Bourgeois

            Linda Dupuis ignored the knee-knocking chill on this November, 1943 morning as she swung her bicycle around the corner from the side street into the back alley behind the house. Slamming on the brakes at the stairs to her second level garage apartment, she leaped off the bike and vaulted up the steps in her haste to share her good news with her sister. She anticipated the warmth of crackling logs in her furnace as she caught her breath on the landing and slowly cracked the door open to peek inside before entering. She  had already surprised her sister once this month in broad daylight necking with a boy.

            "Hey, close that door," Giselle called out from the sofa across the room; she was wearing only her pink panties and bra.

            Linda held her good news to herself as she quickly shut the door. "If you got dressed in the morning you wouldn’t get chilled when I open the door." 

            Linda glanced at the blazing furnace in the far corner, filling the apartment with an acrid smell of burning sap. Giselle should have picked dryer wood for the fire.

            "You came up those stairs like a freight train. What’s the big rush?" Giselle leaned up from the sofa on one elbow and stared expectantly at Linda.

            "Lavigne gave me a 99 percent on my exam, can you believe it? And an A+ for the mid-term." Linda enthused over her success in this first semester of graduate school at River Ridge University. 

            Linda took off her coat and hung it in the closet. When she turned around, she saw the confused look on Giselle’s face. "Who? . . . What?" Giselle said.

            "Dr. Lavigne, my advanced French grammar professor, silly. I told you all about him. He gave me a 99 percent for my mid-term exam." Giselle’s lack of shared enthusiasm dampened Linda’s feeling of elation.

            "Oh. The one you’ve named ‘Mr. Phonetics’?”

            Linda dropped into the overstuffed chair across the room from Giselle. "Yeh, the expert in my thesis area.”

            "How can you possibly know your ‘thesis area’? I don’t even know my major yet."

            Linda explained. "His research is in my area of concentration. He is focused on anything Cajun. I like listening to Lavigne digress on our Cajun heritage. You remember Longfellow’s Evangeline? We had to do a paper in high school. He calls it Le Grand Derangement. Remember, from high school?"

            "I didn’t get much out of Evangeline. All I remember is having to do a book report."

Linda gave her sister an exasperated look; Giselle never took her studies seriously. "Lavigne specialized in French phonetics … converting sounds into symbols so an expert can reproduce those same sounds vocally without ever hearing them."

            "Boring! ... Boring!” Giselle puckered her mouth and nose in a sign of disgust. “But that stuff turns you on, doesn’t it?"

            Linda extended her legs straight out toward the coffee table facing Giselle who lay sprawled on the sofa across the room.Sharing her apartment with Giselle gave Linda a friend and a confidante with whom to share even her most intimate thoughts. But Giselle would always be her little sister, that kid who tagged along behind her in school. Linda was the oldest of six children with two brothers between her and Giselle and there were two younger boys who came after Giselle. When Giselle graduated from high school, Linda talked her into joining her; her little sister was far wiser in certain areas than she was and Linda intended to learn from her younger sibling.

A large glass ashtray teeming with stale cigarette butts overflowed ashes onto the coffee table. Giselle flicked an ash toward the ashtray but she missed it. Ashes swirled like snowflakes over the opened pages of the books and index cards scattered around the table. Linda picked up one of the cards and scooped the errant ashes from the tabletop into the ashtray and went to the kitchen to empty it.

            "You do go on about that French course. Is it the course or the teacher that interests you?"

            Linda held on to her calm demeanor. "Lavigne is an excellent teacher. . . .  And he is not so hard to look at either." Linda felt her face flush; her attraction for this man challenged her self image.

            "Listen to you, sister dear. And you who haven’t had a date since your high school senior prom." Giselle sat up, smiled broadly and pulled her legs up under her; she grabbed the tattered afghan from the back of the sofa and spread it around herself.

            "I have too dated since my senior prom." Linda knew Giselle still saw her as the intellectual without flaws whose academic pursuits snuffed out any real joy in life.

            "Ahhha, then you’ve been holding out on me. Is there someone special?"

            "No, not at present." Linda watched her sister, relaxed on the sofa across the room.

            "Then there should be. But not this Lavigne fellow! Isn’t he the married type? And so much older.”

            “But he is so smart. Of all my professors, he is by far the most intelligent.” Linda knew her attraction for Lavigne could only get her into trouble. But she felt this uncontrollable urge to know him better, to have him as a friend, to be with him. Was this her reaction to some one who could help her career? Besides, he was married.    

            “Isn’t he the one leading that research project you talk so much about?"

            "Yes. And I would so much like to be on that research team. Lavigne’s planning to tour Cajun country next summer to gather data on Louisiana French dialects."

            "So… you want him to help boost your career… the sex would be extra."

            "Giselle! Don’t even talk like that. What’s gotten into you?" Linda again felt that warm glow that came over her when she thought about being with Lavigne. What would it take to make him notice her? She wondered.

            "Hey, you know I enjoy being with the right partner.”

            "But respectable people don’t talk about it. Just because I don’t bop every man I meet doesn’t mean I can’t be attracted to a good looking man."

            "Now sister dear, I don’t bop every man I meet. Just the ones I like."

            Linda fell back into the role of Giselle’s big sister. "You do be careful, young lady... you can ruin your life. You will have trouble getting someone suitable to marry as it is."

            "I’m not stupid. I take precautions." Giselle lay back on the sofa with her face upturned and her eyes closed. She pulled the afghan higher without exposing her feet. “Marriage is the last thing on my mind right now. I have plenty time for that.”

Linda sank back into the overstuffed chair, draped her skirt over her legs and wrapped her arms around her knees. "Well, if you want to know the truth, I wouldn’t kick Lavigne’s slippers out from under my bed." Linda’s halting laugh ended in a sigh.

            "Wow! Listen to you." Giselle leaned forward on the sofa. "I’ve never heard such talk from you. Are you so taken in by this French professor of yours?"

            Linda rocked back and forth, hugging her knees. "I said I found him attractive. I didn’t say I was chasing after him. He is so good-looking, though, like Clark Gable in Gone with the Wind, only more friendly and with a sense of humor. Most of my professors are so stuck on themselves. I wouldn’t mind a fling with Lavigne.... for me, it might be a good thing..." Linda’s voice drifted into a thoughtful silence.

            "You’re chasing after a professor for a fling? Haven’t you heard? Professors are off limits, especially the married ones."

            "Hey, slow down, I’m just dreaming. I am not pursuing anyone."

            "Sounds like pursuit to me. And pursuit of someone for all the wrong reasons."

            "Cut it out, Giselle. I don’t have time for a fling with my schedule and all the extra hours I’m working. Which brings up your job-hunting. What have you done about getting a job? You know, one that pays real money so you can help out with the bills. Have you even filled out an application yet?"

            "You’re changing the subject. Would you really have sex with a married man?"

            Linda felt defensive against Giselle’s personal twist on morality. "Now who’s changing the subject? … Well?"

            "Well, what?"

            "What have you done to find a job?" Linda persisted. "I can’t keep paying your way. I just don’t have time to keep working these extra hours. Remember our deal?  You would help out with expenses."

            "You don’t have time because you study too much. You’re too ambitious, miss professoress." Giselle teased.

            Linda pulled her legs up sideways under her.

            "There’s nothing wrong with wanting to teach college. I want to stay close to home. I just don’t want to be ‘at home’ ever again."

            "You should have come home this weekend. Papa was on the rampage."

            "No, thank you. Drunk again?" Linda’s stomach churned in the same revulsion she always felt when Papa was present or when they talked about him. The full memory of his tobacco and alcohol breath came back. Why did Giselle keep going home? Her high school boyfriend just couldn’t be that special. Or could he?

            "He tried to take on both of the boys but they’re too big for him now; they overpowered him and high-tailed it out of there. They took the boat out and brought back the largest mess of shrimp ever, larger than any Papa caught in years. You remember how Papa always said, ’Dem shrimp, dey ain’t running no more". It was never the shrimp. It was Papa. He drank too much and he wouldn’t go out to the right places … afraid he wouldn’t be able to get back. Papa’s letting the boys take over the boat. It gives him more time to drink and beat up on those two young ones."

            Linda glanced at her sister. She envied Giselle’s ability to enjoy the moment without a thought for her future. Linda could not function without structure.

            Linda felt like the black sheep in the family with her strawberry blond hair and skin so sensitive to sunlight. Giselle had that jet-black hair, the olive complexion and big brown eyes so typical in the Cajun; her siblings all had those features. Linda often wondered about how different she looked from her siblings. She recalled that day when she was sixteen and she confronted her mother, "Mamma, is Papa really my father? I mean I look so different from all the rest." Linda didn’t see the hand coming at her but she felt the sting and could hardly stay on her feet. She never brought the subject up again.

            Giselle looked so content on the sofa. Talking about relationships was normal to Giselle. Linda added as an afterthought, "The truth is Dr. Lavigne is so exciting and he could really help my career. And I do like looking at him. So what? Why are you giving me such a hard time?"

            Giselle teased in a singsong voice, "Linda’s falling for her French professor." She added, "How exciting!"

            On her way to her bedroom, Linda took a swat at Giselle’s head; Giselle ducked and Linda missed, as usual.

 

 


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1. BAYOUS, BOOKS & BALLS - A CAJUN LOVE STORY

2. By

3. Paul J. Bourgeois

4.             Linda Dupuis ignored the knee-knocking chill on this November, 1943 morning as she swung her bicycle around the corner from the side street into the back alley behind the house. Slamming on the brakes at the stairs to her second level garage apartment, she leaped off the bike and vaulted up the steps in her haste to share her good news with her sister. She anticipated the warmth of crackling logs in her furnace as she caught her breath on the landing and slowly cracked the door open to peek inside before entering. She  had already surprised her sister once this month in broad daylight necking with a boy.

5.             "Hey, close that door," Giselle called out from the sofa across the room; she was wearing only her pink panties and bra.

6.             Linda held her good news to herself as she quickly shut the door. "If you got dressed in the morning you wouldn’t get chilled when I open the door." 

7.             Linda glanced at the blazing furnace in the far corner, filling the apartment with an acrid smell of burning sap. Giselle should have picked dryer wood for the fire.

8.             "You came up those stairs like a freight train. What’s the big rush?" Giselle leaned up from the sofa on one elbow and stared expectantly at Linda.

9.             "Lavigne gave me a 99 percent on my exam, can you believe it? And an A+ for the mid-term." Linda enthused over her success in this first semester of graduate school at River Ridge University. 

10.             Linda took off her coat and hung it in the closet. When she turned around, she saw the confused look on Giselle’s face. "Who? . . . What?" Giselle said.

11.             "Dr. Lavigne, my advanced French grammar professor, silly. I told you all about him. He gave me a 99 percent for my mid-term exam." Giselle’s lack of shared enthusiasm dampened Linda’s feeling of elation.

12.             "Oh. The one you’ve named ‘Mr. Phonetics’?”

13.             Linda dropped into the overstuffed chair across the room from Giselle. "Yeh, the expert in my thesis area.”

14.             "How can you possibly know your ‘thesis area’? I don’t even know my major yet."

15.             Linda explained. "His research is in my area of concentration. He is focused on anything Cajun. I like listening to Lavigne digress on our Cajun heritage. You remember Longfellow’s Evangeline? We had to do a paper in high school. He calls it Le Grand Derangement. Remember, from high school?"

16.             "I didn’t get much out of Evangeline. All I remember is having to do a book report."

17. Linda gave her sister an exasperated look; Giselle never took her studies seriously. "Lavigne specialized in French phonetics … converting sounds into symbols so an expert can reproduce those same sounds vocally without ever hearing them."

18.             "Boring! ... Boring!” Giselle puckered her mouth and nose in a sign of disgust. “But that stuff turns you on, doesn’t it?"

19.             Linda extended her legs straight out toward the coffee table facing Giselle who lay sprawled on the sofa across the room.Sharing her apartment with Giselle gave Linda a friend and a confidante with whom to share even her most intimate thoughts. But Giselle would always be her little sister, that kid who tagged along behind her in school. Linda was the oldest of six children with two brothers between her and Giselle and there were two younger boys who came after Giselle. When Giselle graduated from high school, Linda talked her into joining her; her little sister was far wiser in certain areas than she was and Linda intended to learn from her younger sibling.

20. A large glass ashtray teeming with stale cigarette butts overflowed ashes onto the coffee table. Giselle flicked an ash toward the ashtray but she missed it. Ashes swirled like snowflakes over the opened pages of the books and index cards scattered around the table. Linda picked up one of the cards and scooped the errant ashes from the tabletop into the ashtray and went to the kitchen to empty it.

21.             "You do go on about that French course. Is it the course or the teacher that interests you?"

22.             Linda held on to her calm demeanor. "Lavigne is an excellent teacher. . . .  And he is not so hard to look at either." Linda felt her face flush; her attraction for this man challenged her self image.

23.             "Listen to you, sister dear. And you who haven’t had a date since your high school senior prom." Giselle sat up, smiled broadly and pulled her legs up under her; she grabbed the tattered afghan from the back of the sofa and spread it around herself.

24.             "I have too dated since my senior prom." Linda knew Giselle still saw her as the intellectual without flaws whose academic pursuits snuffed out any real joy in life.

25.             "Ahhha, then you’ve been holding out on me. Is there someone special?"

26.             "No, not at present." Linda watched her sister, relaxed on the sofa across the room.

27.             "Then there should be. But not this Lavigne fellow! Isn’t he the married type? And so much older.”

28.             “But he is so smart. Of all my professors, he is by far the most intelligent.” Linda knew her attraction for Lavigne could only get her into trouble. But she felt this uncontrollable urge to know him better, to have him as a friend, to be with him. Was this her reaction to some one who could help her career? Besides, he was married.    

29.             “Isn’t he the one leading that research project you talk so much about?"

30.             "Yes. And I would so much like to be on that research team. Lavigne’s planning to tour Cajun country next summer to gather data on Louisiana French dialects."

31.             "So… you want him to help boost your career… the sex would be extra."

32.             "Giselle! Don’t even talk like that. What’s gotten into you?" Linda again felt that warm glow that came over her when she thought about being with Lavigne. What would it take to make him notice her? She wondered.

33.             "Hey, you know I enjoy being with the right partner.”

34.             "But respectable people don’t talk about it. Just because I don’t bop every man I meet doesn’t mean I can’t be attracted to a good looking man."

35.             "Now sister dear, I don’t bop every man I meet. Just the ones I like."

36.             Linda fell back into the role of Giselle’s big sister. "You do be careful, young lady... you can ruin your life. You will have trouble getting someone suitable to marry as it is."

37.             "I’m not stupid. I take precautions." Giselle lay back on the sofa with her face upturned and her eyes closed. She pulled the afghan higher without exposing her feet. “Marriage is the last thing on my mind right now. I have plenty time for that.”

38. Linda sank back into the overstuffed chair, draped her skirt over her legs and wrapped her arms around her knees. "Well, if you want to know the truth, I wouldn’t kick Lavigne’s slippers out from under my bed." Linda’s halting laugh ended in a sigh.

39.             "Wow! Listen to you." Giselle leaned forward on the sofa. "I’ve never heard such talk from you. Are you so taken in by this French professor of yours?"

40.             Linda rocked back and forth, hugging her knees. "I said I found him attractive. I didn’t say I was chasing after him. He is so good-looking, though, like Clark Gable in Gone with the Wind, only more friendly and with a sense of humor. Most of my professors are so stuck on themselves. I wouldn’t mind a fling with Lavigne.... for me, it might be a good thing..." Linda’s voice drifted into a thoughtful silence.

41.             "You’re chasing after a professor for a fling? Haven’t you heard? Professors are off limits, especially the married ones."

42.             "Hey, slow down, I’m just dreaming. I am not pursuing anyone."

43.             "Sounds like pursuit to me. And pursuit of someone for all the wrong reasons."

44.             "Cut it out, Giselle. I don’t have time for a fling with my schedule and all the extra hours I’m working. Which brings up your job-hunting. What have you done about getting a job? You know, one that pays real money so you can help out with the bills. Have you even filled out an application yet?"

45.             "You’re changing the subject. Would you really have sex with a married man?"

46.             Linda felt defensive against Giselle’s personal twist on morality. "Now who’s changing the subject? … Well?"

47.             "Well, what?"

48.             "What have you done to find a job?" Linda persisted. "I can’t keep paying your way. I just don’t have time to keep working these extra hours. Remember our deal?  You would help out with expenses."

49.             "You don’t have time because you study too much. You’re too ambitious, miss professoress." Giselle teased.

50.             Linda pulled her legs up sideways under her.

51.             "There’s nothing wrong with wanting to teach college. I want to stay close to home. I just don’t want to be ‘at home’ ever again."

52.             "You should have come home this weekend. Papa was on the rampage."

53.             "No, thank you. Drunk again?" Linda’s stomach churned in the same revulsion she always felt when Papa was present or when they talked about him. The full memory of his tobacco and alcohol breath came back. Why did Giselle keep going home? Her high school boyfriend just couldn’t be that special. Or could he?

54.             "He tried to take on both of the boys but they’re too big for him now; they overpowered him and high-tailed it out of there. They took the boat out and brought back the largest mess of shrimp ever, larger than any Papa caught in years. You remember how Papa always said, ’Dem shrimp, dey ain’t running no more". It was never the shrimp. It was Papa. He drank too much and he wouldn’t go out to the right places … afraid he wouldn’t be able to get back. Papa’s letting the boys take over the boat. It gives him more time to drink and beat up on those two young ones."

55.             Linda glanced at her sister. She envied Giselle’s ability to enjoy the moment without a thought for her future. Linda could not function without structure.

56.             Linda felt like the black sheep in the family with her strawberry blond hair and skin so sensitive to sunlight. Giselle had that jet-black hair, the olive complexion and big brown eyes so typical in the Cajun; her siblings all had those features. Linda often wondered about how different she looked from her siblings. She recalled that day when she was sixteen and she confronted her mother, "Mamma, is Papa really my father? I mean I look so different from all the rest." Linda didn’t see the hand coming at her but she felt the sting and could hardly stay on her feet. She never brought the subject up again.

57.             Giselle looked so content on the sofa. Talking about relationships was normal to Giselle. Linda added as an afterthought, "The truth is Dr. Lavigne is so exciting and he could really help my career. And I do like looking at him. So what? Why are you giving me such a hard time?"

58.             Giselle teased in a singsong voice, "Linda’s falling for her French professor." She added, "How exciting!"

59.             On her way to her bedroom, Linda took a swat at Giselle’s head; Giselle ducked and Linda missed, as usual.

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