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G-man sat on a bench in Audubon Park staring out over the lagoon and the golf course beyond. It was just past dawn, the temperature not yet set to broil, the sky full of pink and gold light. The lagoon was a separate, upside-down world of wavering trees and reflected sky. At the water’s edge, ducks paddled among cypress knees and clumps of Louisiana iris, ignoring G-man because he had already fed them the crumbled bread heels he’d brought. Other, more graceful birds swooped around the island in the middle of the lagoon, egrets and herons and ones whose names he didn’t know. There was a raw, wet freshness to the air, somewhere between jasmine and sperm. He believed this might be the most beautiful place in New Orleans, but its beauty didn’t stop him from feeling miserable.
Late last ni
