This is a story written in three parts. The other two parts will be the next two Friday Flash stories. This is also a creative non-fiction piece, meaning it is a true story with my own dramatic flair Every part of this story is true.

16-year-old Zoé Haydel sat on her living room floor, her eyes transfixed to the six o’clock news flashing across the black and white television screen in front of her. Her father sat a few feet away in his mahogany wood rocking chair, dozing off as he always did while watching the news. Her mother was hard at work in the kitchen preparing dinner – tossing salad, baking dinner rolls and a roast, and boiling corn. The succulent smells of tender roast beef and sweet dinner rolls wafted from the kitchen, but Zoé was too mortified to even notice. She could not believe her eyes. Could it be? No, it couldn’t be them, could it? The newscaster’s voice droned on to the next story, but Zoé was still mesmerized by the last one. As she realized the implications of the news story she had just heard, her face drained of all color and warmth. She looked down, and she realized her hands were shaking. She was sweating profusely, and she couldn’t breathe. She was just waiting for the FBI to come knocking at her door to take her away, along with four of her friends. This could not be happening.

Six Months Ago

Zoé Haydel pulled her long sleeves over her hands as she waited outside with her friends to get into Anything Goes, a popular downtown New Orleans restaurant. It was a cool, clear Saturday night in the spring of 1979, and the line to get into the restaurant was about eight miles long. None of their parents had any clue they were there, as the conniving girls had each told their parents they were spending the night at another’s house.

The restaurant was on Iberville Street, about a block off Canal Street and a couple of blocks from Bourbon Street. Zoé could hear a barker on Bourbon calling, “Come one, come all! Ladies, ladies, ladies! Huge titties and no cover charge! Drinks two-for-one!” Jazz music floated from the corner where a bald black man blew into his saxophone, his bright red derby upside down in front of him. He looked expectantly at passersby, tooting louder on his horn and trying to get them to drop just one dime into his hat.

Zoé had always liked the commotion of downtown New Orleans, and she had always wanted to go into some of these forbidden places just to see what went on. However, “huge titties” and “ladies, ladies, ladies” didn’t really interest her enough to wander into one. As she drew her attention back to the conversation at hand, she heard Breanna Schexnayder, one of the girls in her group, say, “Hey, check out those losas over there. They look like they just climbed out the banana boat.” Breanna was a very attractive 16-year-old girl with long, straight, black hair and a vivacious personality. She was very petite and scrawny, but with a substantial bust, which seemed to attract older men. Lydia Leblanc stood next to her, also 16, but strikingly different in appearance with her short, light blonde hair and athletic body. Next was Edith Hebert, the promiscuous one of the group, with a sultry attitude and a voluptuous body for her small, 16-year-old frame. Finally, Tonia Bourgeois stood next to Edith, a shy and very average girl of 16, the typical girl-next-door type who tends to blend into the scenery.

“Where do ya think they from? Mars?” Lydia asked.

“I don’t know, but it looks like they’re comin’ over here,” Zoé said, turning away from the men in the hopes of deterring them from trying to talk to the girls. The men, however, found this cute, and they strutted over.

“You girls waiting for eat, yes?” the oldest one asked in a thick Greek accent. “I make you better food.”

“I’ll bet ya can,” Breanna replied.

“You girls look like you like have fun, yes?”

“Uh, yeah we like ta have fun. Who doesn’t?” Lydia sarcastically replied.

“You want have fun wis us?”

“I don’t know if that’s such a good idea,” Zoé said.

“We like have fun too. You meet us here after dinner?”

“Yeah, sure, dude. You just wait right here as long as it takes, ok?” Edith said as the hostess called her name.

“Edith, party of five.”

“We gotta go eat. See you guys lata,” Edith said, leading the way into the restaurant. The girls left the men standing there, laughing and making fun of them as they took their seats.