So I wasn’t entirely surprised when the police car pulled into the middle of the campsite with its lights flashing and sirens blasting. Gideon came out of his trailer to greet the car, but it was still a couple more minutes before Deputy Bob finally turned off the sirens and stepped outside.
Luka and I went out to get a better vantage point on what was happening, as had everyone else. My mom sat next to Betty Bates at a picnic table, helping shuck corn we’d be eating for lunch, and Jackie Phoenix cradled her young daughter against her.
“I’m here to shut y’all down,” Deputy Bob announced loudly and proudly. His small, shifty eyes were hidden by dark aviator sunglasses, and he smirked as he surveyed the campsite.
A few people gasped and murmured, and my mom actually shouted, “You can’t do that!” Gideon held his hand up, silencing everyone, and kept his cool gaze on Deputy Bob.
“On what grounds?” Gideon asked.
“The hospital reported another animal attack,” Deputy Bob explained. “It seems this area is unsafe for humans, so we can’t have you camping out here or having innocent townsfolk coming out and getting mauled by some kind of wildebeest.”
My mom snorted and returned her attention to shucking the corn. “A wildebeest is a kind of antelope,” she said dryly, loud enough that Deputy Bob could hear her clearly. “I sincerely doubt that whatever is going on here has anything to do with an antelope.”
The deputy pushed his sunglasses down so he could glare at my mom over them, but she didn’t pay him any mind.
Gideon stood before the deputy, not saying much and picking absently at his hands, big and leathery from years of hard labor. His white tank top was stained with oil and dirt and red paint, and the thin suspenders he wore accentuated his broad shoulders. Black tattoos trailed down his thick biceps, and he towered over Deputy Bob.
“What are you doing to protect my people?” Gideon asked quietly, still staring at the ground.
Deputy Bob pulled his eyes from my mom to look at Gideon. “What?”
“You have a problem.” Gideon lifted his head to meet Deputy Bob’s gaze, and his voice was low and rough, like gravel crunching beneath tires. “Whatever has been hurting my people is your problem, not mine. All the blood that’s been spilled is on your hands.”
Gideon stepped closer to Deputy Bob. “So you need to take care of your problem, or you need to pay us what we’re owed.”
The deputy swallowed, and his eyes darted around at the semicircle of carnival workers glaring at him. He pushed his sunglasses up and opened his pouty lips, but no words came out. For the first time, he seemed to realize the gravity of the situation.
“Wait, now!” a Southern accent floated from behind the campsite, and I looked over to see Della Jane struggling to hurry toward us with a manila folder in her hand. “Dang it, Bob, I told you to wait for me.”
“You and the mayor do not give me my orders,” Deputy Bob snapped at her.
“Oh, don’t get yourself in a tizzy,” she told him.
Della Jane stopped, leaning a hand up against the Phoenixes’ trailer, and pulled off her baby-blue pumps that were giving her so much trouble. Without the added heel, I realized that she was actually about an inch shorter than me.
As she walked through the campsite toward him, she stopped and smiled and said hello to everyone she passed. When she saw me, she gave me a small wave and beamed at me like we were old friends.
“What are you even doing out here, Della Jane?” Deputy Bob folded his arms over his chest. “This doesn’t concern you.”
“You know damn well it does, Bob,” Della Jane barked, then she offered an apologetic smile to Jackie and Alyssa. “Pardon my French.”
She stood beside Gideon, who appeared to be some kind of giant next to her, and glared up at the deputy. “I have a contract with these people. I agreed to pay them a sum of money for ten days’ worth of work, and you wanna go kicking them out after less than a week.”
“Della Jane—” the deputy began, but she cut him off.
“We’ve got New Orleans right to the southwest of us, and we’ve that big equinox festival going on one parish over,” Della Jane went on. “The mayor wants us to have a place on the map, with attractions and tourists to make us a real destination spot. Shutting down the events we do have isn’t going to make the mayor too happy.”
“It’s unsafe,” Deputy Bob said, but his words lacked the conviction they had when he began.
“If it’s unsafe, then make it safe,” Della Jane retorted. “That’s your job.”
The deputy exhaled through his nose. “I didn’t make the call, and I’m not talking about this with you here anymore. If you got a problem with this, take it up with the sheriff.” Then, speaking louder as he looked at the rest of us, he added, “I suggest the rest of you get out of here before sunset if you don’t want to end up under arrest.”
Deputy Bob went around and got back in his car, and Della Jane cursed at him. She exhaled deeply, blowing her blond curls out of her eyes.
“I am so sorry about this mess,” Della Jane said, and turned back around to face us. “It wasn’t supposed to be like this, I swear.”