The Figurine

by Edward Lodi

About the Author: Edward Lodi has written more than 30 books, both fiction and nonfiction, as well as a poetry chapbook. His short fiction and poetry have appeared in numerous magazines and journals, and in anthologies published by Cemetery Dance, Main Street Rag, Rock Village Publishing, Superior Shores Press, Tell-Tale Press, and others. He lives in Massachusetts in a log house he shares with his wife, the cookbook author Yolanda Lodi.

Excerpt

Jazz, blues, you name it. Bourbon Street never sleeps. Nor for that matter do I. Insomnia. But wait—did the insomnia come before, or after, the figurine? I can’t for the life of me remember. The life of me—that’s rich!

No, my mind is not wandering. Just a trifle muddled. Blame it on lack of sleep. Okay, and too much booze. You’d drink too, in my shoes.

The figurine? It must have been early afternoon. I’d imbibed a few. Who keeps count? Anyhow, on my way back to Canal Street I somehow segued down Bienville or Iberville over to Royal. Drifted so to speak. Or maybe I was pulled. You know, like a puppet on strings. Maybe I’m mistaken about Royal. Maybe it was some other street entirely.

Okay, okay, save your judgment for later. Once you’ve heard the whole story you may think different. We’ll see. The point is I found myself in front of a shop window with my nose pressed against the glass, like a kid drooling at a candy display. I don’t remember approaching the glass, mind you; I just remember being there—as if I’d been placed. You know, by the Puppet Master.

All this conjecture—it’s hind sight. At the time ogling a display case filled with lead figurines seemed perfectly natural. Most of the figurines were toy soldiers. Antiques from various eras: the War of 1812, the Civil War, any number of European conflicts.

The soldiers—infantry, cavalry, artillery—wore an array of colorful uniforms, painted on of course, but the effect was striking. There were other subjects too. Cowboys, Indians, pirates, wizards, warlocks.

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