Memphis Legend

by Brian Crawford

  Overalls and Hank said no.

  “Nothing,” said Aaron.

  Now I don’t know who to hit first, Hank or Aaron.

  I said, “It isn’t going to work boys.”

  Overalls cocked his head to one side. “What ain’t gonna work?”

  “Getting us all riled up hoping we will do something so your Chief Parker can come in here and arrest us. I know he sent you. If he didn’t, then he told you who we are, and he hoped you would come on your own.”

  Ever since the conversation with these men had started, by appearing to retreat I had unassumingly moved the nine of us to the right so that all of us were visible to the customers inside Ray’s diner. The glass window of the diner was now directly behind me. Having that much glass behind us increased the risk of injury caused by the surroundings, but the chance that having an entire diner watching might dissuade them was worth the risk.

  “Now take your redneck butts back to him and tell him you failed, or go ahead and attack me. Either way, I am walking out of here unhurt because I am without a doubt the most dangerous SOB you idiots have ever met. If you leave now, you all get to leave here unhurt as well. Use those sixth-grade educations to make the right decision boys. Move along and avoid pain and permanent injury. Let us leave your town right now. You can even say you ran us out if you like.” At that point, I reached behind me and started tapping loudly on the front plate glass window of Ray’s diner. “Do or die time boys. Make the right decision.”

  I could feel the sweat forming under my shirt. My heart rate and breathing quickened. Adrenaline surged. Muscles tensed throughout my entire body. The six idiots in front of me did not realize they were playing with a dangerous weapon. One that was loaded and cocked, ready to go off on the first one unfortunate enough to move in our direction.

  Currently, it was a stand-off. I hoped I had mixed in the appropriate amount of bravado to deter them and not accidentally provoke them. If not, they were going to find out what happens when you mess with someone that has been to hell and back. Someone that can open the door to hell anytime he needs to because he has the key. One wrong move on their part and Overalls would be on the ground with a crushed windpipe, gasping for air that might or might not come. Fireplug was going to be lying next to him with a knee that would require surgery and months of rehabilitation. Strategically, Hank and Aaron would have to wait until after I removed the two biggest threats.

  Fireplug spoke directly to us for the first time, “Don’t go thinkin’ you’re so smart and that you figured anything out, ‘cuz you don’t know shit. Maybe Eric sent us. Or maybe it was Mason. Or maybe we just speak for the town as a whole. Either way, we’ll back off and let y’all leave. But hear this Yankee Doodle dick head, if any of y’all come back, we’re gonna beat the shit out of you for fun. And I will lead the parade myself next time.”

  With that, the six of them all turned and left us standing there alone. I had been wrong about one thing; Overalls was not the leader, Fireplug was.

  CHAPTER 11

  A fight avoided is a fight won. However, our victory left me feeling hollow. Incomplete. I wanted to hit someone. Hard. I had missed a good opportunity. I knew I had made the right choice, though. I would have won the battle, but lost the war if I clobbered six buttheads only to end up in jail.

  “What the hell just happened back there?” asked Virgil.

  I was riding with Virgil as he headed east towards Huntsville. My eyes were glued to the road behind us looking for a tail. So far, I had not seen anyone other than John. The heightened vigilance left me nauseous as a result of the adrenaline surging through my body, leaving the disgusting acidic taste of bile burning in my throat.

  “Chief Parker was sending us a message. Get out of town.”

  “I heard you say that to them. You really think he sent those men to run us out of town?”

  “It makes sense, doesn’t it? Them showing up shortly after I tell the Chief I’m going to poke around a little bit. And how would they have known your name was Virgil?”

  “They didn’t call me Virgil.”

  “No, they called you Mr. Tibbs. Do you think that was only a coincidence?”

  “Who is Mr. Tibbs?”

  “Man, I keep forgetting you completely missed the Sixties in America. It’s from a movie, In the Heat of the Night, with Sidney Poitier playing a detective named Virgil Tibbs. The second skinny a-hole was referencing a famous line in the movie. It’s one of my favorite movies. How have you never seen it?”

  “Just haven’t I guess.”

  “But you see why I know the guy knew your first name?”

  “Sure, I guess so. Could be a coincidence, though. Maybe he just saw the resemblance between me and Sidney Poitier. Besides, I thought white folk thought we all looked the same anyway.”

  “Only the stupid ones.”

  Virgil said, “Well, they looked plenty stupid.”

  “Okay, can’t argue with that logic. Seriously, though, Virgil. Do you really think it was a coincidence?”

  “I guess not. If the Chief sent them after us, now what?”

  “How about we turn around so I can beat the hell out of all of them? I like that idea.”

  “We didn’t need to leave for you to do that.”

  “Sure we did, Virgil. I said so I can beat the hell out of them, not you. I wanted you out of there.”

  Virgil said, “Afraid I can’t handle myself?”

  “You and John would have just got in my way.”

  Virgil said, “Then it would have been six on one.”

  “Yeah. Just the way I wanted it.”

  “Just like that time in the Navy, huh?”

  I replied, “Yeah, just like that time.”

  “Well, I’m not turning around, so, what now?”

  “I can’t answer that right now; I’m too mad. Mad enough that I am sick to my stomach. A big part of me wants to go back there and fu—, mess those guys up. How dare the Chief send men to do his dirty work like that and how dare they sling racial insults at my best friend.”

  “Holy crap, L.T., you are mad; you almost dropped an ‘f’ bomb.”

  “Aren’t you mad?”

  “Sure, I’m pissed too, but somehow I’ve managed to go 34 years without anyone ever using the ‘n’ word around me. It caught me off guard. At first, I wasn’t even sure I heard him correctly. You know, I’ve often wondered how I would handle it if it ever happened. Part of me wants to go back and help you clobber those guys; the rest of me knows it would just get us into more trouble than it is worth.”

  “Says you maybe. I still think it might be worth it.”

  Virgil said, “They were ignorant rednecks. Busting them up wouldn’t ever change their mind. If you could pound common sense or common decency into someone, then I would agree. I would ‘lead the parade’ as that one dude said. But you and I both know it doesn’t work that way. You have to let this one go, man.”

  “Okay, but let the record state that I still want to knock their teeth out, the ones they have left.”

  “Record noted. Nice to see you are getting more agreeable in your old age.”

  “Don’t bet on it, Virgil. You know I can’t let the Chief get away with what he just did, and if his son hurt Paul in any way, then I’m going to help hold them both accountable.”

  “How are you planning on doing that? You crazy enough to take on a chief of police?”

  “Maybe. It makes more sense to go after Eric, though, don’t you think. His dad is just protecting his kid. He’s a roadblock, not a suspect. Best to try and stay out of his way.”

  “So you are going after Eric? You’re going to hunt him down. And when you find him? It’s not like you can beat it out of him.”

  “Oh, I am sure I could take him.”

  Virgil said, “I didn’t mean it that way. I mean you just can’t go around kicking butt to get your way.”

  “Oh, I thought you actually meant I couldn’t take him.”

  Virgil said
, “No. I would never bet against you in a fight. Not after what I saw what you did in the Navy.”

  “Good to know,” I said.

  “L.T., this isn’t your fight. It isn’t your responsibility. Taking this on is going to cause trouble. Not to mention you promised Ellie.”

  “You worried about me?”

  Virgil said, “Yeah, but not in the way you think. My fear is that you’re going to sink your teeth into this and then like a damn pit bull, you won’t let go no matter what. Look at what’s happening already. Some guys insult us and now you want to take them all on. Let the authorities handle it.”

  I spent the next couple of minutes contemplating Virgil’s advice. It was good advice. There was only one problem; I was too mad. Also, although my nausea had finally abated, the taste of bile still lingered ruining my memory of the world’s best meatloaf. Not to mention that my inner voice would not shut the hell up.

  “Virgil?”

  “Yes.”

  “I have a bad feeling about this whole thing.”

  “Me too,” said Virgil.

  There was another pause while the ramifications of my statement lingered in the air, casting doubt that neither one of us wanted to be the first to say out loud.

  After a few minutes, Virgil said, “L.T., thanks.”

  “Thanks for what.”

  “Getting us out of there in one piece. I noticed you were moving the whole group of us over to the window, although I didn’t know why until you started banging on the glass. How the heck do you think of that kind of stuff in the heat of the moment like that?”

  “It is all about situational awareness, and experience and training, and remembering what your goals are.”

  Virgil asked, “And what were your goals?”

  “Avoid the fight, plain and simple. I was also thinking exit strategy.”

  “All I was thinking was I hope I don’t piss myself when the punches start flying.” I had to wait for him to stop laughing at his own joke. “One thing, though. You were calling them names and seemed to be baiting them into a fight. That strategy just seems weird to me.”

  “Sure, because you’ve never been in a fight in your life, other than the one you told me about in third grade in Korea. It’s hard to explain, but just trust me that there is a dynamic to most fights, often starting with psychological warfare. I could tell that if I had demonstrated any weakness, it would have empowered them. My cockiness was an act designed to keep them wondering more about why I appear so sure of myself than on what they wanted to do to us.”

  Virgil said, “I’ll be damned, you have multiple black belts and know how to kill people with your bare hands, but deep down inside, you are a pacifist.”

  “Not even close, Virgil. I’m someone who never wants to be on the losing side. If it had escalated, I would have pushed you out of the way and told you to get out of town while I started inflicting major damage. Some of them would not have walked away. That is not pacifism.”

  ***

  Virgil and I drove for a few more minutes before pulling over so I could ride back to Memphis with John. Virgil wished me luck and then was on his way. John wanted to go around Emmettsville on the way back. I assured him that the danger was over. I’m not sure he believed me; his knuckles were white while driving through the town and he hardly spoke a word. Subconsciously, I think I wanted someone to try and stop us. I still had a lot of pent-up aggression, and the lingering taste of bile reminded me of my desire for retribution. Once we were clear of Emmettsville, he felt safe enough to talk freely again. “Do you think Chief Parker sent those guys after us?”

  “Don’t you?”

  “I guess it makes the most sense.”

  I said, “Virgil asked me the same question. I guess he didn’t want to think a police chief might resort to nefarious means either. Fortunately, I am more cynical than you two.”

  “Nefarious…who uses words like that?”

  “Are you making fun of my word vocabulary? I pay good money to be in the word of the month club; now I have to listen to your persiflage?”

  “Persiflage? Really? Now you are just showing off. I don’t even know what the hell that means.”

  “Teasing. You can thank my mother for that; she was quite the wordsmith, and I guess it rubbed off on me. My vocabulary aside, I think I barely avoided incarceration for assault and battery.”

  “But they instigated the whole situation.”

  I said, “Do you think that would have mattered to the guy who sent them in the first place?”

  “No, I guess not. But don’t you mean us? Virgil and I would have helped the best we could.”

  “You must think I’m crazy if I was going to let Virgil hit any white people in that stupid town. So I was going to have to take them all out myself and quickly, especially the big one in overalls and the short, thick guy that looked like a fireplug. Once I incapacitated them, the other four would have backed off anyway.”

  “Christ, L.T.! Incapacitate them how?”

  “Unless those guys were much better than they looked, the guy in overalls was going to get hit hard in the throat and then I was going to kick Fireplug’s knee backward. I would have punched Hank and Aaron in the face out of spite. The other two would have run off by that point.”

  He was looking at me with an incredulous open-mouthed, wide-eyed stare. “Are you that good? Seriously, would it have worked?”

  “It was going to have to work. No choice, so I would have made it work. I’ve been in worse situations than that one and come out on top. Besides, these guys were not committed, and I was, if for no other reason than to keep Virgil out of trouble in an all-white town in the South. He is the best friend I have, and it will be a cold day in you know where before I let anyone hurt him. And I am very good.”

  “Remind me never to make you mad.”

  “Everyone always says that, but anger has nothing to do with it. If it did, I would have decided to hit Hank and Aaron first.”

  John was quiet for several minutes, during which time I concentrated on refocusing my rage, which seemed to be growing in intensity instead of diminishing with time. More than once I fantasized about punching Hank and Aaron in the face, retribution for their racist remarks. While driving, John was biting his lower lip and nervously gripping and re-gripping the steering wheel. The poor guy had to be a nervous wreck.

  “L.T.” There was a slight stammer in his voice. “I don’t know what to do now. I am scared for Paul. Hell, he is still missing. In a town where the Chief of Police possibly just sent people to run us out of town. Now, what?”

  “We investigate.”

  “How do we do that?”

  “I’m still figuring that out, but the first thing I’m going to do is find Eric Parker tomorrow and have some face-to-face time. We know he drives a beer truck, so I will track him down and confront him outside of Emmettsville so as to avoid Chief Parker and his goons. I am going to ask him some questions, and he is going to answer them.”

  “What if he doesn’t cooperate?”

  “He is going to answer my questions.”

  “How can you be so sure?”

  “Because I’m not going to leave him a choice. I can see by your face you are worried, well, don’t be. I’m not going to beat it out of him.”

  John said, “I wasn’t thinking that. I was just thinking how serious this is all getting. Besides, I don’t care if you break every bone in his body if he did something to my son.”

  “Good, you are getting mad. Now I need you to channel that anger and do something important.”

  He replied, “Sure, just name it.”

  “You went to law school in the South, and I understand the good old boy network runs pretty deep down here, so make some calls to your attorney friends that do criminal law and ask their opinion on whom to talk to. If any of them do prosecution work, that is even better. Eventually, we will need help from someone that can make everything official. Don’t hold back anything. Tell them what is goi
ng on, the name of the town, the name of the Chief, everything.” I knew John was withholding information from me, and maybe it was none of my business, but he would need to give someone all the necessary information. I decided to drive home my point. “And I mean tell them everything, John.”

  “You seem to be implying something, L.T.”

  “I am. I know you haven’t been honest with the Chief earlier or with me. You are an inexperienced liar, which is a good quality in a man by the way.”

  “Shit! Do you think the Chief noticed?” The sheer intensity of his anxiety startled me.

  “Maybe, but he was pretty busy worrying about his own butt, and his son’s, to pay too much attention, so maybe he didn’t notice. If he had, I think he would have pressed you on it since it would have given him a good reason not to suspect his son.”

  “Damn. Damn. DAMN!” He was banging the steering wheel with his hands. “I have to tell you something.” John resumed biting his lower lip and fidgeting in his car seat. He did not speak right away.

  He was going to tell me something bad. I could feel it. Something that was going to make it even harder for me to walk away from helping him. Shit, I am already more involved than I want to be.

  I did not want to push him for answers; ignorance can be bliss. And it’s not like it was my fault that Paul was missing. Another part of me, a deeper part of me that I could not ignore, a part of me that I could not turn off no matter how hard I tried, felt obligated to help in any way I could. Years of conditioning had gone into the making of that undeniable, unyielding component of my character. Years of hating bullies. Years of sticking up for anyone in trouble. Years of watching my mother give her time and energy to worthwhile social causes. Years of watching my father offer assistance to his employees if they were struggling. Not to mention years of living with my damn name and its implied legacy. Then again, even the years of conditioning could not adequately account for the feeling of obligation that was as integral to me as my inner voice. The feeling was more elemental, more innate. The years of conditioning only honed to a fine edge a facet that already existed inside me and was as much an intrinsic component of my consciousness as my DNA was to my very existence.