“Wait…wait. That damn eye gives me the fuckin’ creeps. How am I gonna sleep out there tonight knowin’ this thing is in here?”
“You’ll just have to tough it out.”
“Tough it out, my ass. I’m takin’ it.” Donnie drew the pistol from his waistband and took a step toward Hartley. Instantly the chauffeur retreated.
“Donnie! Come on, I said!”
“AND I SAID I’M TAKIN’ IT!” the young man bellowed, and when Pearly aimed the light at Donnie he saw a face contorted with hatred and rage, the crimson blood spreading up from the thick neck in an instant to swell the cheeks and lips and put a reddish gleam in the slits of the eyes. “HEAR ME?” he challenged. There seemed to pass a long moment of terrible silence broken only by the harsh rasp of Donnie’s breathing and the patter of new rain on the tin roof. Nilla pressed close against her brother and in her mind spoke not to Curtis but to God, Help us, please help us.
“All right, Heinz,” Ginger said soothingly, as if she were trying to calm a wild beast. “All right, take it easy. Go ahead and do it, if it’s what you want.”
“It is.” With those two words he rushed upon Hartley, put the pistol to the side of the man’s head and clasped his free hand to Hartley’s left eyesocket. Hartley shivered, but he did not fight.
The hand worked and worked, and Pearly found himself keeping the light aimed at the drama because there was a mad sickness to it that fascinated him. It was like watching an ultimate violation, for one man to pluck the eye of another. Hartley gave a gasp, there was a damp sucking sound, and when Donnie’s hand came away the wet red hole in the chauffeur’s face was a ghastly sight…yet to Pearly, it was a show of power over another human being that he could not help but appreciate.
“Okay, you happy now?” Ginger asked.
“Sure am.” Donnie’s voice was a little giddy. He opened his fist to let the glass eye shine in the flashlight’s beam. “Thing’s still warm.” He closed his fist around it again, held it up to his ear and shook it as if expecting it to give off a rattle.
Ginger left the room and Donnie followed with his new prize. Pearly swept his light over the fearful faces of the children and the one-eyed face of Clay Hartley. “Just settle down and don’t cause us any trouble,” he told them. “The quicker this is over, the better.” He backed out of the room and closed the door.
A single crack of light crept between the boards in the prison room, but that was all the illumination they were going to get. Nilla was aware of Mr. Hartley just standing there motionless, and then she made out that his bound hands came up and the fingers touched gently around the gaping hole where his eye had been.
“Sorry, children.” His voice was as hoarse as if he’d been shouting for an hour against hurricane winds. “That wasn’t too pleasant, was it?”
“Did it hurt?” Little Jack asked.
“Not too much.”
“I shoulda kicked that man harder.”
“Listen to me, both of you,” Hartley said sternly. “Do not aggravate these people. Do you know what that word means?”
“I do,” said Nilla. And for her brother’s benefit she added, “Not to get them riled up.”
“Correct. We’ll have to stay the night, but we’ll likely get out of here soon. We’ll make do, won’t we?”
“Yes sir,” both of them replied, Nilla more positively than Little Jack.
“It’s so dark in here,” Little Jack said. “And I’ve gotta pee somethin’ awful.”
“Bucket’s in the corner,” Hartley answered. “If you miss it, I don’t think anybody’ll mind.”
“You mean…I’ve gotta pee in front of my sister?”
“Yep. Good thing it’s so dark in here, huh?”
“Oh go on, Little Jack,” said Nilla. “Don’t be a baby about it.”
“I’ll pee on you if I’ve got a mind to.”
“Go use the bucket,” Hartley said. “Go on, it’s only about three steps over there.”
Little Jack went over to it with a grudging step and a sigh of resignation.
Nilla sat down on the floor in the far corner. She leaned back against the wall, closed her eyes and tried to imagine herself sitting in her room at the house, but her imagination wasn’t that refined. :Curtis?: she sent out.
He came back almost at once. :I’m here.:
:Where are you?:
:I’m with your daddy at the house. Never been in a place like this before, ’bout took my breath away. Your daddy’s gone to talk to your mama. Where are you?:
:In a room in a terrible old cabin. There’s no light in here. That man—Donnie—took Mr. Hartley’s glass eye out. I think he’s crazy. He got so mad his face went red…and the woman called him Heinz. I guess because of the ketchup.:
Curtis did not reply.
:You still there?: she asked.
:Yes. You say she called him Heinz?:
:Yes.:
:That’s funny,: Curtis said. :Not in a laughin’ way, but funny.:
:There’s nothing to laugh about here. I feel like crying but I can’t, not in front of Little Jack.:
:Do you have any idea where the cabin is?:
:I don’t know if we’re in Kenner or past it. After they put the cotton and tape over our eyes they drove for what seemed like another fifteen minutes, but we only made the one right turn.:
:So you must be on the lake side,: he said. :Probably past the town.:
:Maybe, I don’t—:
Her concentration was interrupted by a thunderous hammering on the door that caused her to catch her breath and jump so hard she hurt her back against the rough boards.
“Y’all don’t get too comfortable in there,” Donnie said beyond the door, and he laughed like a gunshot.
Eighteen.
Heinz, Curtis thought as he sat in an overstuffed chair in the Ludenmere’s palatial parlor.
He remembered a young white man who had bumped into him at Union Station and whose face had gone ketchup-red with anger. There had been a woman and another man with him, and the woman had called the angry gent Heinz. The same trio who had kidnapped Nilla and Little Jack? Bad people travelled by train just as well as good people, so—
He had lost his connection with Nilla. He was about to call her again when Ludenmere came into the room, gray-faced and weary-looking, and eased himself down into a chair opposite Curtis.
“I was just speakin’ to Nilla,” Curtis explained. “She says they’re in a cabin, maybe past Kenner but for sure on the lakeside ’cause they made a right turn off the main road.”
“Doesn’t help much,” Ludenmere said in a tired voice. He leaned his head back and closed his eyes. “Lots of cabins and fishin’ camps up in there. Even if I was to know the exact cabin…I’m not gonna do anythin’ to bring harm to my children. Our children,” he corrected.
Curtis had heard a single heart-wrenching cry from upstairs about ten minutes ago, then silence. “Was it bad?” he asked.
“Bad. She has some prescribed sedatives, so I gave her one and maybe she can sleep for awhile. Jane…keeps up appearances to outsiders, but she’s fragile.” His eyes opened but they looked bleary, the blue color washed out. “Her father is a wealthy corporate attorney in Shreveport. What people don’t know is that he’s an alcoholic and a ragin’ bully. He didn’t treat Jane or her sister very well growin’ up. Both of them can put on a good show…but both of them paid for the abuse and they’re still payin’ for it. Any issue that causes what I’d guess you’d call stress…it’s doubly hard on her.”
“Maybe you should call a doctor?”
“I thought about it. Maybe I should. Maybe that would be what a good husband should do…but the doctor’ll be askin’ questions, Jane’s liable to blurt out the story, the doc goes to the police in spite of my tellin’ him to stay quiet or he tells somebody else who goes to
either the police or the newspaper…I can’t chance that. Not right here with everythin’ set for Friday mornin’. No, I’ve got to handle this on my own.” Ludenmere turned his tortured face toward the picture window. “I was Jane’s knight in shinin’ armor,” he said quietly. “But I guess…in time, all armor gets tarnished.”
“I think you’re doin’ what you believe to be the best,” Curtis said.
“Yeah. The thing is, if somethin’ happens to our children…I’ll lose Jane too. She’ll drift away from me, I know. It’ll be the end of…well, of everythin’ I’ve ever found good and worthwhile in this world.” He suddenly shook his head and gave a mirthless laugh. “Listen to me! Talkin’ to you like I’ve known you all my life! Like you’re a family friend and not a—” He paused, his mouth still open.
“Not a Negro?” Curtis prompted, but it was spoken calmly and with truth.
“Not a stranger,” said Ludenmere. “I don’t give a damn what color you are. You’re my connection to Nilla and that’s all that matters. Maybe you’re her knight in shinin’ armor.”
“My armor’s not too shiny,” Curtis said.
“Well, bein’ a black knight, I guess that’s true.”
In spite of the trials and tribulations of the day, that struck Curtis as just being doggoned funny. He couldn’t suppress the laugh that spilled out. And in spite of the heaviness he was feeling—and maybe because of it—Ludenmere had to give up a genuine laugh too, and after the laugh came out and rang around the room he felt both lighter and steadier.
“What’s gonna happen tomorrow,” he said when the laugh had faded, “is…Victor’ll bring the box of money in the early afternoon. Then you and me are gonna drive out to find Sandusky Road and that fishin’ pier. I don’t want to be tryin’ to find it in the dark.” He stood up from the chair. “I’d best go sit with Jane. Listen…you can have the guest bedroom upstairs. Mavis’ll show you. It’s got its own bathroom. Anythin’ you want to eat…we’ve got a lot of food in the kitchen. Mavis is a good cook, too. Steaks, ham, bread for sandwiches…ice cream and cake…got a whole fresh—” He paused again, looking like a man who was desperately trying to avoid a step that would send him plunging off a cliff, and then he said lamely, “Melon.”
“Watermelon?” Curtis asked.
“Yeah. That.”
“One of my favorites,” Curtis said, with a slight smile. “Haven’t had but two all summer.”
“Help yourself, and like I say Mavis’ll cook you up whatever else you’d like.”
“Thank you.” Curtis motioned toward a telephone on a table across the room. “Can I use that? I’d better call my mama, she’ll be worryin’.”
“Sure, go ahead. Oh…would you speak to Nilla again, tell her I’ve got everythin’ under control and it won’t be long now before she and Little Jack are home?”
“I’ll do it right now.” Curtis was anxious to restore the connection with Nilla, since she’d been interrupted in mid-sentence before. :Nilla,: he sent out. :You okay?:
:Yes,: she answered. And then, :Kind of okay, I guess.:
Her sending was weak, fading in and out like a device with dying batteries.
Curtis said, :You need to rest yourself. Get your strength back. Will you be able to sleep any?:
:No, I don’t think so.:
:Well, try. It’ll be good for you. Your daddy’s here with me. He says to tell you he’s got everythin’ under control and it won’t be long before you and Little Jack are home.: When she didn’t respond after a few seconds he asked, :Can you hear me?:
:I hear you…but I’m awful scared, Curtis. That man Donnie keeps pounding on the door every few…seems like. Maybe they don’t…sleep. We’re getting hungry too, we don’t have any…use the bathroom in a…have to go pretty soon, I think, but at least…any light at all.:
:You need to rest,: he insisted. :Rest your body and your mind.:
:What? I didn’t…all that.:
This was new and disturbing, he thought. Nilla was worn out and her sending was wearing out too. If she didn’t get some rest he might lose her completely, and obviously her tired brain wasn’t able to pick up all his sending either. :I’m gonna sign off now,: he told her. :I’ll try back later, but please…please…you try to—:
:What? What did you say? I can’t…so far away.:
:Your daddy says he loves you,: Curtis said, and with that he looked up at Ludenmere, spent a few seconds refocusing on where he was and to whom he was speaking, and he said, “She says they’re doin’ all right. Says they’re ready to come home.”
“I’ll get them back safe and sound. I swear to God I will.”
“Yes sir,” Curtis said.
“The phone’s yours,” Ludenmere told him. He started to leave the room but hesitated.
“I was so wrong about Nilla…about this…gift of hers. And yours too. I’ll never understand it if I live to be a hundred and ten, but I thank you for bein’ here to help, and I thank you for bein’ my daughter’s friend.”
“I appreciate her bein’ a friend to me,” Curtis replied. “She’s a mighty good listener.”
Ludenmere nodded, turned and left the room, and Curtis sat in the chair thinking it was best he didn’t know that Nilla’s power was weakening, and that if she didn’t sleep—or at least rest her burdened mind—it might be impossible to reach her. He figured she likely knew something was wrong, and why. It would be up to her to find the strength of will to fix it, and he thought she would just have to make herself go blank to recharge her mental energy, if she could.
He had never realized there was a limit to it. He didn’t know if he liked that or not because as much as he was pleased at being called someone’s knight in shining armor he was also pleased to know that there were chinks in the armor and someday it might weaken on him too. It made him feel a little more like everyone else in the world and not as much as the supernatural rarity Lady had made him out to be that night in Congo Square. He was just a young man, after all, a Redcap and proud of the work of helping people get from here to there and back again.
He got up from the chair and went across the sand-colored rug to the telephone.
Orchid answered on the fourth ring. She had trained herself to sound near dead even in her most excitable moods. “Hello?”
“Hi, Mama.”
“Curtis! Oh my Lord, are you callin’ from the jailhouse?”
He gazed around the wonderful room. “No, I’m not. I guess Mr. Crable called you?”
“Yes he did! Told me the whole tale! Who’s got you messed up with the law? That Rowdy Patterson fella, that big ol’ loudmouth piece a’ skunk?”
“Mama,” Curtis said calmly, “just listen, will you? I’m not messed up with the law. I’m—”
“When are you comin’ home, then? I’m gettin’ sick worryin’!”
“I’m…doin’ somethin’ important,” he told her. “I won’t be—”
“Come on home, now! Hear? I’ll leave the lights on, you come on home right this minute.”
“I won’t be home tonight, Mama,” Curtis pressed on. “Likely not tomorrow—”
“That’s a fool talkin’ a fool’s talk! Boy can’t run off from home and leave a sick mama behind, Lord God mercy no! You don’t sound y’self, you’re with somebody gonna get you all messed up!”
Curtis felt her swaying him, as she always did, but on this day he was rooted. “Mama, what I have to do is—”
“I don’t wanna hear it, I don’t wanna—”
“Listen to me!” he said, and the sharpness of his voice shocked him as much as it did Orchid because both of them became silent. When he’d recovered himself, he went on into her silence. “I’m not gonna explain it. It’s somethin’ important I have to do. I won’t be home tonight or tomorrow night. This is for me, as much as for anybody else. Can you understand that?”
It seemed a long time before she answered.
“Come home,” she whispered, in a broken voice. “Joe, come home.”
“Mama,” Curtis said quietly, “you need to get back into life. You have to. You’re not dyin’, you’re not sick. You want to be, but you’re not. You’ve turned away from the neighbors, and the church, and ever’body who matters. I think you have to find a new start, Mama. Put all this behind you…just let it go. Maybe it would be a good thing for you to go visit Maw and Pap. A healthy thing. Just for a few days, just to hear somebody else talkin’. And you know how Pap likes to play his guitar. I’ll bet he’s come up with a whole slew of new songs.”
She didn’t reply, but Curtis could hear her slow and shallow breathing as if she were trying to urge up a cough.
“Nobody feels sorry for you but yourself,” Curtis said. “I love you, and that’s why I’m tellin’ you true because you’ve got a whole life ahead of you that you’re tryin’ to throw away. Joe is gone and he’s not comin’ back, Mama. That’s the real of things, and that’s where you need to start.”
She didn’t answer for so long that he had to prompt her to speech. “Hear what I’m sayin’?”
Orchid said, “I’m leavin’ the lights on ’til you come home,” and then she hung up the phone.
Curtis listened to the dial tone for a few seconds, as if from it he were gathering some kind of message. He figured the message was that his mama was going to go to bed the same as always and tomorrow would be the same as always and the day after that without change. How he could push her back into life, he didn’t know. He replaced the receiver in its cradle, walked to the window and looked out upon the grand Ludenmere property, which to him was truly another realm and beat all to pieces the measly Gordon estate. The rain had stopped but everything was still dripping. The light was beginning to fade, the world turning a darker gray under a cloud- covered sky. He thought about trying to contact Nilla again, but dismissed it because her batteries needed a rest and maybe his did too.
Someone cleared their throat behind him. He turned around and found that the maid, Mavis, was standing at the parlor’s threshold.
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