Page:Jay Little - Maybe—Tomorrow.pdf/182

 When he reached the hotel lobby, it was crowded. Bellboys and waiters were screaming names, carrying luggage and large trays of food. For him, this wild confusion was an earthly paradise. He loved to be among crowds he did not know. He loved New Orleans. From the first time he could first be trusted to wander off by himself, he had loved any city, exploring its large buildings and its mysteries. He had never been afraid, in fact, on their streets he had always felt more at home than he did on the streets of his home town, Cotton. Always a day dreamer, and solitary, he could walk down a strange street without feeling someone was watching him or going to call him a sissy. No one paid any attention to you in the city.

He glanced at the clock, twenty minutes to ten. He'd better hurry, he thought. I won't have too much time.

A man seated in back of a desk marked "Sightseeing Tours" smiled at him. He was extremely youthful-looking with dark hair, sallow skin, and sharp sensitive features. His eyes were bluish-green, deep-set, large and penetrating. There was something of the fanatic in his look. He was quite handsome. He spoke. "How are you this evening, sir?"

"Fine, thank you," grinned Gaylord.

"Going out for a big time?"

"I hope so."

"We have a tour leaving in about ten minutes."

"You have?"

"Yes, would you like to go on it? It covers the city and takes you out to the beach and back. It's about an hour trip."

"Not tonight … Think I'll just walk."

"Tomorrow? We have several during the day."

"Maybe … maybe tomorrow."

"Have a good time … I'll see you tomorrow."

"Thank you … Bye."

"Bye."

Standing outside the hotel he watched the congested cabs unloading men and women dressed for an evening of excitement. He looked at the busy restaurant across the narrow street. There was a man watching him, or so he thought there was … But it didn't bother him. Everyone was alive … glad they were in this wonderful old 172