Wincing, he got to his feet, taking the towel she held out to him and wrapping it around himself. She held out a hand to steady him as he stepped out of the tub.
“You okay?” she asked.
He nodded.
“Mebbe you ought to lie down fer a while. I kin bring you somethin’ to eat.”
“I’ll be all right,” he said, drying himself. “Is there a telephone in the restaurant?”
She nodded.
“I have to make a phone call first.” He ran his finger over his cheek, looked in a mirror, then turned to her. “You know,” he said, almost shyly, “that’s the first time a lady ever gave me a shave.”
“Is it all right?”
He smiled at her, and suddenly he seemed almost young. “Real good. A guy can get spoiled by something like that.”
She laughed. “I’ll go back an’ git yer breakfast ready. Wheat cakes, sausages and eggs all right?”
“Right perfect,” he said. “Just give me ten minutes to get there.”
Chapter 2
The counterman’s pants were two sizes too big for him, and his belt held it around his waist in gathers. After he had demolished his second stack of wheats, eggs and sausages and was working on his second pot of coffee, he leaned back in his chair with a contented sigh. “That was good,” he said.
The waitress smiled at him. “Fer a bit there I thought you were goin’ to eat your way into them pants.”
He smiled ruefully. “I didn’t know how hungry I was. You got any cigars?”
“Sure do. Tampa Specials. Real Havana. A nickel each.”
He grinned. “Just what the country needs. A good nickel cigar. I’ll take two.”
She went behind the counter and came back with the box. He picked out two cigars, stuck one in his mouth. She struck a match and held it for him while he puffed deeply. He peered up at her from under his bushy eyebrows through a cloud of smoke. “Thank you. Now where’s the telephone?”
She pointed to the pay phone against the far wall. He took another sip of his coffee, then went to the telephone. She cleared the table and went behind the counter, where the counterman was leaning against the register. She placed the dishes in the wash rack. Another half-hour and the pearl diver would come in. He could clean them.
She came back to the counterman. “I’m whupped,” she said. “I cain’t wait to git home.”
“I don’ know what fer,” he replied. “You didn’ do nothin’. There was no business tonight.”
“Those are the worst nights of all. At least if you’re busy the time doesn’t drag.”
“Another half-hour, that’s all.” They heard the coin tinkle down into the telephone box and looked up.
His voice was low, but it carried. “Long distance, please. Station collect to Washington, D.C. The number is Capitol 2437.”
The coin jingled back into the return chute. He fished it out and stood there, puffing at his cigar, waiting. After a moment, he spoke again. “Just keep on ringing, Operator. There’s someone there. They’ll answer.”
He puffed patiently on the cigar. The operator came on again. A sudden authority came into his voice. “You just keep ringing, young lady. The phone is downstairs in the hall and they’re upstairs sleeping. Ring long enough and they’ll hear it.”
A moment later someone answered. His voice lowered. “Moses, it’s Daniel B.… No, I ain’t dead. They don’t make phone calls from Hell… Yeah, they went back to work in K.C. I know that. Tell John L. and Phil that we went in there like a bunch of amateurs. The packers had everything set up. The cops and the Wops. We didn’t have a chance. I spent the last three days riding around in a car with a bunch of garlic eaters. I knew the minute they dumped me the strike was over. I wouldn’t be alive now if it was still on. They dumped me outside St. Louis on 66. I’m calling from a truck stop. The office owes me a new suit.”
He was silent, puffing on the cigar, while the voice on the other end of the line spoke. His voice was slightly hoarse when he began to speak again. “I’m okay. Just banged up a little; I’ve had worse… No, I’m not coming back for a while. I’ve been four years without a vacation or a rest. It’s time I took one. I want to do some thinking on my own. I’m tired of doing everybody else’s bidding.”
Again the voice on the other end of the line spoke while he listened. This time his voice was definite. “No more… I don’t give a damn what they got lined up for me. Probably another suicide job… California, I guess. I’m halfway there now. Maybe I can pick a few oranges off the trees an’ eat them fresh and sweet from the sun… Yeah, I’ll keep in touch… No, I got money… I ain’t hangin’ around here for John L. to call me back. For all I know the garlic eaters might have changed their minds. I’m moving on while the gettin’ is still good… Yeah. I know. Things’ll get better—but I don’t know what good that will do us. John L. is pushing for Landon, and Roosevelt won’t take him too kindly for that… You can bet your ass that FDR is gonna win a second term… Okay. I’ll call you when I get to California.”
He put down the telephone and went back to his table. He held up his hand, and the waitress brought him another cup of coffee. “Is there any hotel around here where I can rent a room?” he asked.
“The nearest is back in St. Louis,” she said.
He shook his head. “Wrong direction. I’m going west, not east.” He took a sip of his coffee. “Think I can get a hitch on one of those trucks out there going west?”
“You kin ask,” she said. “They’ll be gittin’ up soon.”
“I will, thank you.”
She started back to the counter. Halfway, she turned and came back to him. “You mean what you said? Goin’ to California?”
He nodded.
“I never been there either,” she said. “I hear it’s real pretty out there. The sun shines all the time an’ it’s never cold.”
He looked up at her without speaking.
“I got a car,” she said. “It’s not much. An ol’ Jewett. But it runs. We can split the drivin’ an’ the expenses.”
He puffed on the cigar for a moment. “But what about your job?”
“I kin git a job like this anywhere. They don’ pay me no salary, jes’ tips.”
“Family?”
“None. My las’ husband took off in a cloud of smoke the minute he found out he didn’ like payin’ bills. I divorced him las’ year.”
“What about those brothers you told me about?”
“Nobody left. They’re all scattered. Ain’t much work aroun’ here.”
He nodded thoughtfully. “Got any money?”
“’Bout two hundred cash. Got a man wants to buy my house. Give me four hundred cash if’n I th’ow in the furnishin’s.”
He was silent again. His eyes peered at her. “How old are you?”
“Twenty-six.”
“You ain’t gonna be no movie star,” he said.
She smiled. “I don’ expec’ to be one. I jes’ want to fin’ a place where I kin live decent.”
He leaned back in his chair. “How soon can you leave?”
“Today,” she said. “I kin pack my things, see the man, git my money an’ we kin be on the road this afternoon.”
He smiled suddenly, his whole face lightening. He held out his hand. “Okay. California, here we come.”
She laughed. Then the touch of his hand ran up through her arm, and suddenly she found herself blushing. “California, here we come.”
Still holding her hand, he looked up at her. “I don’t even know your name.”
“Tess Rollins.”
“Pleased to meet you, Tess. My name’s Daniel. Daniel B. Huggins.”
***
The doctor straightened up and snipped off the end of the suture. “As fine a job of sewing as my missus ever laid down on her Singer. Take a look.”
Daniel peered into the mirror the doctor held for him. What had been a wide gash was now a pencil-thin line with tiny black dots over and under where the sutur
es surfaced. The only thing that seemed different was that the eyebrow below seemed slightly raised. He touched it. “Will the eyebrow stay like that?”
“It’ll come down a bit when the stitches come out. After about a year it will be like the other.”
Daniel got out of the chair.
“Wait a minute,” the doctor said. “I want to put a bandage over it.” He worked quickly. “Important to keep it clean. Change the bandage every day. Come back in six days and we’ll take the stitches out.”
“I won’t be here,” Daniel said.
The doctor finished the bandage and fastened it neatly into place with thin strips of Johnson & Johnson. “You can get it done at any hospital or clinic. Just make sure you keep it clean until then.”
Daniel reached into his pocket. “How much do I owe you, Doc?”
“Two dollars too much?” the doctor asked hesitantly.
“Two dollars is fine,” Daniel said. He took out a roll of bills from his pocket and counted out the two bills. “Thank you, Doc.” He saw the doctor looking at the bills. “Anything wrong, Doc?”
The doctor smiled, shaking his head. “No. I was just thinking that you were the first cash patient I’ve had in two months.”
Daniel laughed. “Well, don’t go gittin’ nigger-rich with it.”
The doctor laughed. “Don’t worry. Might just frame it to remind myself what money really looks like.”
He followed Daniel into the waiting room, where Tess was seated. She got to her feet. “Was it bad, Doc?”
The doctor smiled. “I’ve seen lot worse. Just make sure he keeps it clean.”
She nodded. “I’ll do that.”
Daniel went out to her car. It was a Jewett touring car with the winter celluloid shields fastened. He got into the car. She walked around to the driver’s side.
“Now where?” he asked when she got behind the wheel.
“Down to the bank so I kin sign the papers an’ transfer the mortgage. Then we go out to the house an’ give the new owner the keys.”
He stuck a cigar in his mouth. “Sure you want to do it?” he asked. “You can still change your mind. After the papers is signed you got no druthers.”
“My mind’s made up,” she said.
At the bank, the lawyer advised her to leave the money in the bank and send for it when she reached California. She looked at Daniel.
“It’s a good idea,” he said. “No telling what might happen on the road when you have all that money with you.”
“How much cash do you think I might need?”
“Maybe a hundred. Probably less. But that should do us. Besides, if we have any problems, I have money with me. We can straighten up after.”
“Okay,” she said to the lawyer.
They started after lunch and drove all afternoon and into the late evening. When they pulled off the road to find a room for the night, they were three hundred and thirty miles from St. Louis.
They stopped in front of an old house that had a sign, rooms for rent, lighted by a single electric bulb. They got out of the car, knocked on the door and went inside.
An old man, smoking a pipe, looked up at them. “Howdy, folks. What kin I do fer you?”
“A room for the night,” Daniel said.
“Including breakfast?”
Daniel nodded.
“Got a right nice one fer you. Big double bed. One dollar fifty with breakfast,” he said, adding, “in advance.”
“Okay,” Daniel said, reaching into his pocket. “Any place around here we can get supper?”
“If yer not lookin’ fer anythin’ fancy, my missus kin fix somethin’ fer you. That’ll be an extra fifty cents each.”
Daniel counted out the money. The old man got to his feet. “Need any help with yer bags?”
“I can manage,” Daniel said.
The old man took a key from a bureau drawer and gave it to him. “It’s the first room at the top o’ the stairs,” he said. “Meanwhile I’ll go tell the missus to fix yer supper. It’ll be ready by the time you wash up an’ come down.”
Dinner was simple. Pan-fried chicken and potatoes. Canned green beans and corn. Hot bread and coffee. “Breakfast is at seven sharp,” the old man said as they went up the stairs.
They went into the room. Daniel looked around the room, then took off his jacket and hung it over the back of a chair. “Next town we come to,” he said, “I got to buy me some shirts, socks, underwear, a suit and another pair of shoes.”
“Okay,” she said.
He began to unbutton his shirt, then stopped and looked at her. “You undressing?”
She nodded. “Thought I’d wait until you went to the bathroom. I’ll go after you. It takes me more time. You know, take off my makeup an’ things.”
“Okay,” he said. He walked out of the room, the tops of his BVDs sticking up white over his pants, and down the hall to the open bathroom. He was back in less than ten minutes.
She had undressed and wore a white bathrobe. “Why don’t you stretch out a bit an’ rest? I’ll try not to be too long.”
He nodded and took off his pants and stretched out on the bed in his underwear. He looked up at the ceiling. Life had a way of dealing the cards from the bottom of the deck. A week ago in Kansas City, he had had a fine suite in the best hotel in town. All he’d had to do was pick up the phone and he had anything he wanted. The finest whiskey, the best cunt. And breakfast was served whenever he wanted it.
Twenty minutes later, she came back into the room. “I didn’t mean to take so long,” she said. He didn’t answer. Then she noticed he was fast asleep. “Daniel,” she said.
He didn’t move.
Silently she took off her robe and placed it on the foot of the bed. She looked down at herself. Damn! she swore silently. She had put on her sexiest nightgown.
She pressed the wall switch and the room went dark. She walked around the bed to the other side and slid between the sheets. Tentatively, she reached across the bed and touched him.
He still didn’t move.
She drew back her hand and peered at him through the dark. His face was relaxed. He looked much younger when he was sleeping. Much more vulnerable.
Suddenly she smiled to herself. With all the guys at the stop trying to get into her pants, the first guy she went for since her husband left her fell asleep on their first night together.
Impulsively, she leaned across the bed and kissed his cheek. “I hope it takes us a long time to git to California,” she whispered. Then she drew back to her side of the bed and closed her eyes. Before she knew it, she was asleep.
Chapter 3
They arrived in Tulsa about one o’clock the next afternoon in the midst of a driving rain-and-sleet storm. The wipers could no longer clear the windshield because of the ice forming on the glass, and the weather shields did very little to keep the cold from blasting through the car. He reached up again and tried to clear the windshield by the manual knob. It didn’t help, the wiper blades just skimming over the ice.
“We’d better pull in here,” he said. “No use going any farther till the storm clears.”
She nodded, her teeth chattering despite the heavy sweater she wore beneath her cloth coat.
“Keep your eyes open,” he said. “Look for a hotel that seems reasonable.”
They moved slowly down what seemed to be a main thoroughfare and into a commercial section of the city. The streets were almost empty, the storm keeping most pedestrians away. The stores, their windows lighted at midday, seemed strangely forlorn.
“There’s a sign over there,” she said. “Brown’s Tourist Hotel. Just up ahead.”
A sign in front of the hotel indicated the parking lot adjacent. He pulled the car into it and as near to the side entrance of the hotel as possible. He cut the engine. “Doesn’t look bad,” he said.
“Let’s git inside,” she said. “I’m freezin’.”
They dashed from the car into the doorway. The lobby was small and plain b
ut looked clean and neat. The clerk stood behind the desk as they approached. The sign over the key rack on the wall behind him was very simple: no niggers or indians allowed. “Yes, sir?” the clerk said.
“Got a double?” Daniel asked.
The clerk looked down at his room chart. “Do you have a reservation, sir?”
Daniel just looked at him.
The clerk was suddenly flustered. “Yes, sir. Would you like a deluxe double with bath in the room for one dollar or a regular double with bath in the hall for six bits?”
“We’ll take the deluxe,” Daniel said.
“Thank you, sir,” the clerk said, pushing the register toward him. “Please sign the register.” He punched the bell for the bellman. “That’ll be one dollar, payable in advance.”
Daniel glanced at Tess, then signed the register, Mr. and Mrs. D. B. Huggins, Washington, D.C., as the bellman came up. The clerk gave the bellman the key. “Room 405, sir,” he said politely, glancing down at the register. “I’m sure you’ll like it, Mr. Huggins. It’s a nice corner room. The boy will help you with your luggage.”
Daniel turned to the bellman. “Show us up to the room first; then you can get our bag from the car. It’s the Jewett just outside the door.”
They followed the bellman to the elevator and then to the room. The room clerk was not wrong. Tess made for the bathroom as soon as they entered. Daniel turned to the bellman. “After you get the bag, what’s chances to get a big pot of coffee and a bottle of whiskey?”
The bellman’s face was impassive. “This is a dry county, sir.”
Daniel pulled a dollar bill from his pocket. He held it up. “Still dry?”
The bellman nodded. “Yes, sir.”
Daniel added another dollar. “Still dry now?”
The bellman grinned, taking the two dollars. “We’ll see what we can do. I’ll be right back. Thank you, sir.”
The door closed behind him as Tess came out of the bathroom. “Jesus,” she said. “Fer a minute there I thought the dam was about to bust.”
He laughed. “I know just what you mean. I’m right behind you.”
The bellman was back in less than ten minutes with everything. The valise, the pot of coffee, a pint bottle of whiskey, glasses, ice water and cups and saucers. “Anything else, sir?”
Memories of Another Day Page 22