The first drag makes me cough, just like it did when I was fifteen and bummed a smoke from my very first crush. He’d been the boy from the wrong sid... of the tracks my daddy would have had heart failure over. His name was...“I remember you now.” I say.“Do you?” He smiles and wraps his coat around my shoulders.“Lucian Martinez.” I take another drag from the nearly spent cigarette and stub it out on the concrete wall. “You changed your name.”“Oui. Ain’t no good being Cajun here,” he says, his soft. “Am I the cause of this protuberance? Surely it cannot be genuine?”“Yes you are the cause, and yes it is genuine, my dear Giselle,” replied Mobu. “This is the African Power you spoke of. But surely your husband showed you something similar?”Giselle laughed sarcastically. “My husband, pah! He cannot show anything even slightly comparable to your African Power. He is a miserable creature compared to you. Why, he could barely give me an orgasm. I should have kicked him out a long time ago.”“But if. More

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