by Dale Wiley
I took a moment, picked up a notepad, and breathed. I looked at Judge Pinnell, and halfway through that look, I knew what I was going to say, and made sure it was going to be heard. I nodded at the judge, and stood up. I walked behind ol’ Joe, and in a voice the whole room and half of Mount Vernon could hear, I said indignantly:
“Sir, are you always that easy on a first date?”
Pinnell roared. Woodcock looked like I had just kicked his puppy. And order was restored.
I needed one of those moments right now. I looked over and didn’t think Melissa had seen my new friend, but I knew it wouldn’t take long. I put the hotel key in my pocket and puckered as I thought of what to say next.
*****
I just figured the best answer was the simplest, and the most likely to produce a fit of jealousy pheromones. I introduced them. I did it smooth enough that Green Eyes finally admitted her name was Cara, which was good.
I had been hearing about this thing in French called Menage a Trois where you get two women to sleep with you at the same time. I had suggested it a couple of times, and had a couple of nasty slaps across the face for my troubles, but I wondered with the strangeness of the situation and the fact it was Memphis and I had an unlimited budget for alcohol if maybe this time I could make it work.
Each of the women was looking at the other, figuring out where they fit in the occasion. Green Eyes was tryin’ to figure out how to say whatever it was that she needed to say, and Melissa was sizing her up. She sure was a girl you’d remember, what with those emerald eyes and her red hair. Her look was intimidating, but there was something she couldn’t figure out how to get out. Just as she was about to, I looked across the room and saw Janice and Donna comin’ our way. I might have been able to get two of them in bed, but I knew my chances were dead when they was four.
“Well look who the cat dragged in,” I said and pulled up chairs for both of em.
“We needed more excitement than the Rendezvous,” Donna said.
I looked at Melissa, and she was running skittish. I needed to figure out how to pull her back out.
I smiled at the other ladies, and excused myself with Melissa for a second. Naturally, Green Eyes stuck daggers into my torso. Janice rolled her eyes. I gave her a look that said I knew what I was doin’.
“Are you rounding up every hussy in the neighborhood?” she asked. Hussy. I had never thought of that word. Kindly liked the ring of it.
“I don’t know what the green eyed girl wants, and the other two are merely traveling companions. But here’s my question.”
I looked her in the eye and gave her the hard sell.
“You don’t want to spend that money with Smitty. You don’t want to do the things you’d have to do to wind up with its highest and best use,”
She toyed with the burgundy belt on her dress. “What do you mean?”
“I don’t know if you know, but he’s not a judge. He’s got a wife. He stole that money to impress you.”
Her eyes widened. “No. He did not.”
“Darlin’ I’ve known Smitty for as long as I’ve been collectin’ baseball cards. And I’ve traded recipes with his wife. The only thing he judges is the Kiwanis chili cookoff.”
“Well, I can’t be responsible for that.”
“I agree. But there’s nothing to say that money couldn’t disappear, along with you and me.”
She glared at me. “You wouldn’t do that.”
“Bet me.”
From over at our table, Janice was frantically gesturing at me to come rejoin them. “I mean it,” I said.
We came back to the table. Janice said, with a half-grin on her face. “Soutee, I think you may better sit down for what Cara has to tell you.”
I didn’t like the sound of that.
She looked straight at me, her green eyes blazing.
“Soutee,” she finally said, “I want to know if you want to come meet your son.”
I thought my eyes were going to roll out the back of my head.
“Well, of course I do, little darlin’!” hoping I was sounding at least a little convincing.
“Let me just have a word with Melissa here, and if it’s okay with you, let’s go meet him.”
I made sure to look as stricken as I needed to when I took Melissa a few strides away.
“If I thought I wanted to do this a few minutes ago, I sure as hell want to now. How long would it take you to get the money?”
She did the math in her head.
“To pack a bag and get the money? Maybe an hour?”
“Do you have a passport?”
She nodded.
“Bring it. Let’s meet back here in an hour. I’ll be alone.”
I gave her the Soutee wink and was back to the other table.
*****
There was very little conversation on the way there. It felt all tense, like a ride to the police station, nothing like the mood from earlier in the day. Cara sat up front by me. Donna was crestfallen in the back, looking like her pet butterfly died. Janice had a big smirk on her face, enjoying this too much. We went down I-255, then turned onto a lower-class street near Mendenhall. The streetlight had that high-beam quality right before they burn out. We jumped out of the car. I noticed a large Daddy Long Legs spider about the size of a biscuit climbing the screen door.
And there, sitting with a woman who I guessed was Cara’s mom, was a little jelly bean eater playing in a playpen. He had a darker complexion than me, but it wasn’t impossible to rule out he might have some of them Soutee genes.
“What’s his name?” I asked.
“Roland,” she replied.
Named after Roland Janes, Jerry Lee’s first guitar player?”
Janice laughed and hissed. “Soutee!”
“No,” Cara said, trying to gauge my mood.
“Well darlin,” I said, “There’s only one problem. I reached in my wallet, which had my initials, SRS, carved into the soft, buttery leather, and pulled out a well-worn piece of paper, folded over several times. I made a production of handing it to her.
“That is the medical record of one Thomas Morrison, a doctor in Aurora, Missouri, one of the finest sawbones around. It signifies that on the first day of April, 1975, he performed on me a vasectomy. I think he did it as a community service, but he’s nice enough to say otherwise.” I looked up. Her mother looked horrified, and Cara looked sad. “Do the math. Your little nipper wasn’t even born until 77.”
“Mistakes can happen!”
“Why do you think I got it? And yes, I have follow-up testing to show that I’m as sterile as a surgical suite.”
Donna tried to hide her glee. Janice finally cracked a smile.
“Very nice to see you again, and good luck in your search for the pater familias.” That’s Latin for baby daddy.
We went back out, careful to not disturb the daddy long legs and headed back to town.
*****
“Why didn’t you just tell her poor girl at the bar?”
“I needed to get away from Melissa and have her get the money. And I figured it wouldn’t hurt to see what she was trying to pull.” I grinned at the girls as I said this.
We was close to the old Cotton Exchange, just a few blocks from the Peabody. I realized that I had a room at that fine establishment, so I’d just get another one. I checked my watch. I valeted the car, and we all went back to the car to wait.
I had paged Mark at the ballpark, and told him and Smitty to come meet us at the bar after the game. I didn’t leave any better of a message than that. I didn’t want Melissa getting skittish, in case Smitty tried to call her.
The clock went past nine, then 9:15. Mark and Smitty came in, and Smitty’s face told the story of his plight; he looked like someone had rubbed the hide right off of him. I gave him a grin and a wink and told him I was gonna take care of him.
But Melissa still didn’t show.
We had a couple of drinks, and almost forgot what we was doin. when a black bel
lman came up and handed me an envelope. I looked at the neat handwriting, all pointed back and leaning to the left. The envelope simply said, “Soutee”.
Dear Soutee:
I thank you for a wonderful evening, and I appreciate your offer, but I’m gonna take your idea and put my own ribbon on it. I’m gonna take that money and go on down river with it.
You were bragging on Jerry Lee, but my Sun guy is Johnny. You know what he says about that “Big River.” If this ain’t a set-up, you should follow me on down. If it was, tell Smitty I said hi, and don’t get him in too much trouble. Tell him I never meant him any harm.
But if you want to meet up, just listen to ol’ Johnny’s words: Take that woman on down to New Orleans.
I would have loved to spend the night in your arms and without all of those many distractions.
Come join me. Who doesn’t love a caper?
Love,
Melissa.
That name will do for now.
I looked and looked at that letter. And I didn’t know what I was gonna do.
But I was greatly intrigued by all the possibilities.
SUGGESTED AND APPROVED SOUTEE PLAYLIST FOR THIS STORY:
“T for Texas” - Waylon Jennings - Waylon Live (RCA, 1976)
“Pick Up The Tempo” - Waylon Jennings - Waylon Live (RCA, 1976)
“Crazy Arms” - Ray Price (Columbia, 1956)
“High School Confidential” - Jerry Lee Lewis (Sun, 1958)
“Four In The Morning” - Faron Young (Mercury, 1971)
“Right or Wrong” - Merle Haggard (Capitol, 1970)
AUTHOR’S NOTE
Writing this story has been an interesting adventure. Writing myfictional Soutee has brought more interest to the real person. In that light, I will be introducing a podcast based on the real Steve Soutee. Everything from interviews to court hearings to tell the story including some details that I never knew. You can visit www.dalewiley.com or www.soutee.net to subscribe and follow the story.