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emphasized.
"Okay. This is the way," he told me, and before
I could object, he seized my hand again and led me
away from the procession of frolickers. We hurried
down one street and then another before he told me
we had to take a shortcut.
"We'll go right through this alley and save
twenty minutes at least. There's a mob ahead of us." The alley looked long and dark. It had ash cans
and discarded furniture strewn through it, and there
was the acrid stench of garbage and urine. I didn't
move.
"Come on," he urged, and pulled me behind
him, ignoring my reluctance. I held my breath, hoping
now to get through it quickly. But less than halfway
through the alley, he stopped and turned to me. "What's wrong?" I asked, a chill so cold in my
stomach it was as if I had swallowed an ice cube
whole.
"Maybe we shouldn't hurry so. We're losing the
best of the night. Don't you want to have fun?" he
asked, stepping closer. He put his hand on my
shoulder. I stepped back quickly.
"I've got to get to my relatives and let them
know I've arrived," I said, now feeling foolish for
allowing myself to be pulled into a dark alley with a
stranger who wouldn't show me his face nor tell me
his name. How could I have been so desperate and
trusting?
"I'm sure they don't expect you so soon on a
Mardi Gras night. Tonight is a magical night.
Everything is different," he said. "You're a very pretty
