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The two red women forced from the other day's trainload of "Red Women Warriors for The Donald," stood facing the door at RΓͺve Coffee Roasters on Jefferson Street, Laughingyett.
An array of menu choices pasted to the glass slowed their advance.
They were further baffled when a barista with cafΓ© au lait colored skin and gilded dreadlocks took ten-dollars and gave them two elegant slim glasses holding two ounces each of very black coffee, with a green sprig of rosemary dangling from its lip, and two red raisins on a toothpick laying at its foot.
A blood pressure shootout then commenced at the ole coffee bar when each woman opened a little silver box and took out two white pills the same size as the red raisins. They swallowed all with ice water served alongside as a chaser. Then they asked their exalted presenter of Espresso Rosemary about the next train to Baton Rouge.
There was none, she told them. "But Greyhound," also in the Rosa Parks CentrΓ©, "runs several buses a day. Takes about an hour, I think."
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E. W. E. MOVING FROM NEW-TO-OLD CAPITOL Photograph Β© Philip Gould |
The red women's aim is to be in Baton Rouge in time to raise their banners before the laying out of Edwin Washington Edwards, the late dashing 'Cajun Prince' and three times Governor of Louisiana. For a total of sixteen years. And onetime Federal prisoner for eight additional years.
He would be laid out first in the New Capitol, and then in the old one. The new one was built by Edwards idol, Huey P. Long, 'The Kingfish', a man who had the audacity and political savvy to levy taxes on Standard Oil for the money needed to build the New Capitol, and more.
Long was gunned down in his New Capitol in 1935. At which time he was a United States Senator with an eye on running against President Franklin D. Roosevelt. Instead he was interred on its grounds under massive tons of concrete.
"To thwart seekers of souvenirs and Republican dirty tricksters," L. A. Norma says.
The two red women planned on waving signs to "Revive the War in Vietnam," as mourners walked behind the Governor's horse drawn hearse. It looked like the Greyhound Bus would do the trick on getting them there.
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After being booted from the Trump campaign train for insubordination. "For not believing every damn fool thing Trump says," the two told people as they hung around Lafayette in anticipation of a fictitious Biden On Bastille Day Concert.
"It would be a fine opportunity to wave our banner," they told each other and anyone else who would listen.
L. A. Norma had invited all the red women from the train to attend. No others did of course. No one did. There was no concert. In fact, no recognition of Bastille Day whatsoever. Nowhere in Louisiana. And very little for Joe Biden anywhere in the state outside of New Orleans and Baton Rouge.
They occupied themselves eating at sidewalk cafΓ©s, drinking in student bars with COVID-defiant social practices, and attending services at Saint John The Evangelist Cathedral, where they hope to engage the new Rector in their ideas to revive an, "Obedient sacrifice of your flock through renewal of the lost cause in Southeast Asia."
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"Like the honors bestowed on General Alfred Mouton for his pointless death at the Battle of Mansfield, during the 1864 Red River Campaign," they told the young priest.
"Before present day outlaws shot off his nose and got his statue taken down."
The Rector listened politely but from that first meeting the priest turns his ministerial head when he sees them approaching. π