I didn’t see the Cadillac, but this was the end of the road and there was no place else for it to go that I could see, so I parked in the parking lot and got out. It didn’t look like the restaurant was open. There was only one other car.
I tried to think of what I would say to them if I saw them. Maybe I could say I had a message for Lucille from her mother or something. I had to try. I didn’t think Franco, or whatever his name was—even if he wasn’t the murderer—had anything good in mind in relation to my cousin. Poor little Jim Floyd was slaving away on pickled corpses down in Dallas, and his overripe wife didn’t need any more temptation than she already had.
I crept around the side of the restaurant as nonchalantly as I could, butterflies in my stomach. Funny, but my short hair made me feel really vulnerable and exposed, as if I’d lost my security blanket.
Down in the marina was a good-size houseboat, and the Caddy was parked near it by the dock. Lucille and Franco were standing out on the deck of the boat, drinking something pink. Of course he would have a pink drink for Lucille—he was no amateur. I hugged the corner of the building so they wouldn’t see me.
—
“Are you looking for something?” I jumped about three feet into the air.
“Uh, are you open for supper yet?”
“We open at five.”
“Oh. What time is it now?”
“Three.”
The guy doing the talking was Chinese, short, and wiry. He squinted up at me with the sun in his eyes.
“You are a tall one.”
“Yes. I know that already.” People can be so rude if you are tall. He wouldn’t have said “You are a fat one” if I was fat.
“I am Park, the chef of this restaurant. What is your name?”
“Cherry Marshall. I’m a friend of Baby Moreno’s. She used to talk about what good food you had out here, and I was in the neighborhood, so I thought I might stop in and have a bite.”
I sneaked a peek at the houseboat. Lucille and Franco were laughing about something. They hadn’t noticed us.
“Baby!You are a friend of Baby! How is Baby? She has not been here for months. We miss her.” It was amazing how fast his tune changed when I mentioned Baby’s name. He was smiling all over the place now. “What is she doing?”
“Well, she is in college at DuVall University with me. We worked at the pickle plant this summer. I never understood why she would give up a great job out here to work at the plant, but she said she needed the change.”
“Perhaps she did. Why don’t you come in and I will give you something cool to drink. You can wait until the restaurant opens, and you can tell me all about Baby. Okay?”
“Uh, okay. Sure.”
There was nothing else I could do, unless I wanted to bust in on them down at the houseboat. At least I would finally see the inside of a bar.
It was sort of scary to see the rows of liquor bottles lined up on shelves in front of the mirror. I had always been taught in church that every one of the beautiful gold and amber colors was poison and that drinking even one glass of alcohol would send you straight to hell. After being nearly poisoned by the moonshine I had a bad feeling they might have a point, but the bottles sure were pretty. There was a funny smell in the bar, too, like . . . I don’t know what. A rich, old, brown kind of smell, not unpleasant.
“Would you like a drink?”
“I don’t really know all that much about drinks, Park. You pick out something that is good. And not too strong.”
“How about one that tastes like a milk shake? Kahlúa and cream? It will put meat on those bones.”
“Sure. That would be nice.” I didn’t have to drink it if I didn’t want to. I would only take a small sip, to be polite. I couldn’t just sit there like a nitwit and watch for Lucille. One little sip couldn’t hurt anything.
“This is a really beautiful restaurant,” I said while Park took down the brown bottle of Kahlúa. I was a little nervous, I have to admit, but I tried not to let him know. “Who built it?”
“My brother, Jackie. The bar was shipped from Hong Kong, as well as the rugs and the tables and chairs. They were part of a famous old restaurant that was torn down.”
This bar was not like the ones I had seen in the movies. It was elegant, with deep vermilion walls, wet-looking, like the burnt-orange reflection of the sun setting on the lake. It felt like I was in China. I half expected to look out the window and see one of those little boats they called junks, with its fanlike sail, tied up at the dock.
He handed me the drink, which looked like milk with dark brown coffee swirled into it, over ice.
“Cheers.”
“Cheers.” I drank a tiny sip. Oh my gosh. It was wonderful. Rich and creamy, like a coffee milk shake. It clung to the back of my tongue. I took a bigger sip.
“You like it?”
“I like it. Is there alcohol in it?”
“Little. Not much. Good afternoon drink. Gives energy. Builds bones and teeth.” He had fixed himself one, too, and took a deep swallow.
“You have a car like Baby. I came outside because I thought it was her, for a moment.”
“People are always mistaking us for each other. At least our cars. We don’t look much like each other in person.”
“No. I would say not. So how is Baby? Did her boy come home again from Vietnam?”
“Yeah, he did. He sings out at Woody’s. Have you ever been out there?”
“No. But maybe I will go one night. I should get out more. It is hard, when you have to cook all the time. Does Baby go a lot to this Woody’s?”
“Uh, I think so.”
“Is she happy?”
“Yes. I think she is.”
I felt a little uncomfortable discussing Bean and Baby with Park. Although she had never spelled it out, I suspected she’d had a thing with Jackie, but she never said much about Park. Maybe he just liked her. I took my drink and walked over to the window that faced the river. I needed to see what my cousin was up to, and I wanted to try and change the subject.
“Really nice view. Do a lot of people keep boats down there?”
“Some. More in the summer than now.”
I couldn’t see Lucille and Franco anymore. They must have gone inside.
“Does somebody really live on that houseboat?”
“Yes. Some of the time.”
“Who is it?”
“Why are you so interested?”
“I just thought it would be neat to live on a boat. I wondered what kind of person would do that.”
Nancy Drew would have been proud of my cool.
“A single man with no family. Takes his home with him, like a trailer, but without wheels. He is the salesman for the company of the restaurant machines. He leaves the boat here much of the time while he travels, because it is a good location and he likes the beauty.”
“I can see why. No family, huh? I guess it would be hard to drag around a wife and kids. School and all. Better to be footloose, I reckon.”
“I reckon.”
“Do you have a wife and kids, Park?”
“No, I was not so lucky. What would you like for dinner? I can make you something now.”
“Dinner? Uh, I don’t know. You decide.”
“Leave it to me. You sit. You will like it, I promise.”
—
An hour later, Lucille still was in the houseboat. I had eaten moo shoo pork, garlic shrimp, shredded beef with orange sauce, and lemon chicken. It was the best food I had ever put in my mouth. Park and I were old friends by the last course, and he brought me a fresh orange cut in wedges for dessert, and a fortune cookie. “You will renew an old acquaintance,” it said. I had also had two more Kahlúa and creams, and was feeling pretty relaxed. At this rate, I would get some meat on my bones in a hurry. He had tried to pump me some more about Baby, but I didn’t give him much information, beyond the fact that I didn’t think she was going to marry Bean. It was obvious that Park had a major unrequited crush on he
r. I felt kind of sorry for him.
The last scrap had been eaten, and the empty plate stared at me. I couldn’t sit there much longer without him getting suspicious. A couple of the waitresses came in for their evening shift and looked at me like they couldn’t figure out what I was doing there.
“What do I owe you, Park?” I tried to remember how much money I had with me.
“The first meal at the Water Witch is always on the house, Cherry. Next time you pay. Don’t be a stranger. Bring Baby back. Tell her Park misses her.”
Park was really nice. Baby would probably be better off with somebody like him than Bean, especially now that I knew how he had been treating her since he got back. On top of everything else, she said, he had started making her sit and rub his feet to relax him while he lay on the couch, and I couldn’t imagine they were always that clean. And the two of them always had to do what hewanted to. She would have liked to do something else once in a while besides watch him play the guitar, I bet. If he ever got to be a rock star, he would be impossible. I decided to talk to her about Park.
The girls were setting up the tables for dinner, and Park had gone back to the kitchen. I had no choice but to leave. I walked to my car as slowly as I could, looking at the houseboat all the while. I pretended my shoe was untied, and bent down to tie it, trying to see into the windows. Whatever Lucille and Franco were going to do, they had probably done it by now. I didn’t know whether to be aggravated at her or scared for her, but I leaned toward aggravation. I had decided to wait five more minutes and then go down and knock on the door and just take my chances when the door opened and they came out. She looked up and saw me, said something to Franco, and left him down there alone on the boat. He watched her walk up to the restaurant. Nobody could climb stairs like Lucille.
“Why, hello, cuz. Fancy meeting you here,” I said as she came up to the car.
“All right, Cheryl Ann. What do you think you’re doing following me out here?”
“What do you mean? I just had a hankering for Chinese food. Were you here, too? I didn’t see you.”
“Let me in the car right now.”
“Nobody’s stopping you. Get in.”
She got in and I started the car.
“Let’s get out of here. Go down the lake road.” I pulled out and headed back down the gravel road.
“Okay, Lucille. What is going on? You better have a good story to tell, and I want to know the truth. Why did you get in the car with that man? He didn’t do anything to you, did he? You didn’t do anything with him, did you?”
“What’s he going to do in the middle of the day right in full view of the restaurant? And how can you think I’d cheat on Jim Floyd, anyhow? He just asked me if I wanted to go out to the houseboat, have a drink, and talk over a business proposition. It didn’t seem dangerous, right out in broad daylight. He’s kind of cute.”
We got to the turnoff and I drove down the lake shore for a couple of miles, then pulled up by the edge of the water and stopped.
“So? Tell. What kind of business did he want with you? Besides the obvious.”
“He wanted to put me in the movies.”
“Right. Sure. He’s a salesman, Lucille. He sells cigarette machines. Park told me. He can’t put you in the movies. He just wants to get in your pants, and thinks you are a ditzy blonde who would believe he was a movie producer.”
“Well, he might sell cigarette machines, but he has friends in Memphis who make movies, and since he travels a lot, he is always on the lookout for new stars for them.”
“What kind of movies do they make in Memphis? I never heard of any.”
“Low-budget films. Not like they make in Hollywood, but real films.”
“What did you say when he said that?”
“I laughed at him and asked him if he was aware I was a new mother. He said that was no problem, that a lot of movie stars had kids, and that even now I had the perfect body for the low-budget film industry. Low-budget audiences like full-figured women. He did seem to like my body a lot.”
“Lucille, every man likes your body a lot. I don’t want to be mean, but the way you dress might have something to do with it.”
“What’s wrong with the way I dress? I can’t help it if men have dirty minds.”
“Most men do have dirty minds. It’s a fact of life. Did he say what kind of films these were?”
“Not really.”
“What do you mean, not really?”
“Well, maybe that there might be some partial nudity involved.”
“I knew it! He was trying to get you to do dirty movies, Lucille. So did he try to kiss you or anything?”
“No, he was a perfect gentleman.”
“Did he know I was up at the restaurant?”
“Of course he did. He’s not blind, and you were standing there in full view staring right at us. It was hard to miss you. I told him you’d give me a ride home, so he wouldn’t have to. He said to tell you that you should go to New York and be a model, that you were too skinny for the low-budget movies but perfect for the fashion world.”
“Did he really say that?”
“He really did.”
I grinned, then had second thoughts and smacked my forehead with the heel of my hand.
“What am I saying? Here is a guy trying to get you to do dirty movies, and I’m thrilled he thinks I can be a model! Lucille, he is a sleazebag!”
“You don’t know the half of it. I said I had to go to the bathroom, and while I was in there, I snooped in a cabinet and found an album with a little lock that only took a minute to open with a bobby pin. It was full of pictures of naked women, and you won’t believe who one of them was.”
“Who?”
“Baby.”
“Baby? Maria Babilonia Moreno? That Baby?”
“Yes. That Baby.”
“I don’t believe it.”
“I told you, you wouldn’t believe it.”
“Are you sure about this?”
“Well, if I had to bet my life on it, I wouldn’t, since most of the face was in shadow, but it really looked just like her. She seemed to know him awfully well at the funeral.”
“I would be as shocked if it was Baby as if it was Mama. Did you steal the picture?”
“No, I was afraid to. They were pasted to the page, and there was no way to get it out without tearing it. I didn’t want him to get suspicious.”
“I have to get a look at those pictures, Lucille. I just don’t believe it could be her.”
“Now, how do you think we are going to accomplish that? Knock on the door and ask him for them?”
“We’ll figure something out.”
—
I was starting to see that the part of Baby’s life that had nothing to do with me was much bigger than I had thought. And the more I found out about it, the less sure I was about anything. Baby was becoming a stranger, and it scared me.
41.Bean
The road down by the river was hard-packed dirt, and a stretch of it went stone-straight for a quarter of a mile before it took a curve. It was a perfect place for racing, and during the warm months, a gang of guys would take their old cars and trucks down there nearly every night and have drag races that went on so late that sometimes the sun rose on them. The ringleaders of the bunch were J.C. and Denny Moreno, and in spite of the danger of Sheriff Melvyn Arbus driving by once in a while and trying to catch them with beer, there wasn’t much the law could do to them. He tried one time, when they were particularly rowdy—took their car keys away and made them all walk home, then had their parents come to the courthouse and claim the keys—but it backfired, because the parents were all so mad at him that he got afraid he would lose their votes and so he pretty much left the boys alone after that.
Bean had taken to dropping by after he got through at Woody’s and after Baby was safe in bed—just to smoke a last joint or two and hang out with whoever was crazy enough to try his luck against the Moreno brothers. Bean never raced, h
imself, because his old truck didn’t have the juice, but he usually had a bag or two of grass stashed under the seat and there was always somebody who wanted to buy. This was where he did the bulk of his business.
It was the dark of the moon when Bean pulled up, and warm for October. Frogs were croaking and a breeze blew across the river, stirring up the smell of murky water and dead fish. Five or six cars were lined up along the side of the road, parked about ten feet apart, with their headlights on, lighting up the race course.
Bean was a little surprised to see Ramblin’ Rose at the starting line, going up against Denny, who was driving a ’59 turquoise Ford Thunder-bird with oversize wheels and the back end jacked up. They were revving their motors, waiting for J.C. to come out and give the signal to start.
“Hey, Barlow! You better watch yourself! That boy knows how to drive!” Bean yelled, and Tripp turned and stuck his head out the window.
“So does this boy, Bean! Put your money on Ramblin’ Rose!”
G. Dub stood beside his car, a ’64 white Mustang, smoking a cigarette. He waved at Bean, crushed out the butt, and ambled over. He had on jeans and a white T-shirt; a leather headband held down his long hair. He looked like the very incarnation of Sam Muskrat, his Cherokee grandpa.
“Hey, Bean! How’s it going, buddy?”
“Not too bad, G. Dub. How did they rope Barlow into this?”
“Aw, them boys have been after him to race ever since they first seen his car, and just finally wore him down. I got a couple of dollars on him, just to make it interesting. You putting anything down?”
“I think I’ll sit this one out. I don’t want to bet against my bud, but he ain’t going to beat Denny in that T-bird.” They hopped up and sat on the tailgate of Bean’s truck.
“Got Mary Jane with you tonight?”
Bean looked around, then pulled a joint out of his pocket. He handed it to G. Dub, who lit up, sucked the good smoke down into his lungs, holding it as long as he could, and passed it back to Bean.
Windchill Summer Page 31