The Bootlegger’s Legacy

by Ted Clifton

  The crate was well sealed and indicated on the outside that it contained restaurant supplies. Once Pat was alone he broke it open—and could not believe his eyes. Stacks and stacks of bills, mostly hundreds and twenties. Exactly how much, he really didn’t care—it was a lot, and in only one month. He was going to have to figure out a way to keep this secure. He had some ideas, but he needed to get it done soon because it looked like the Martinez commissions could add up pretty fast.

  Pat had purchased two buildings in Deep Deuce. One was the building leased to Willy Trevas for his nightclub—the other was a vacant building next door. He had bought the one next door for pennies on the dollar because of its history. He’d thought that Willy might want to expand into the vacant building, but that hadn’t happened. The vacant building was going to be his solution to the need for a more secure location for his commissions.

  The second building had at one time been a high class hotel. In the 20s it had been one of the nicest small hotels in Oklahoma City—and one of only a few where blacks were welcome. Over the years it had fallen on hard times and operated as a brothel for a while. The police had the property closed when they discovered that a major drug running operation was headquartered there. Since then the city had denied all building permit applications for renovations to it, and it had remained vacant. When Pat purchased it he had thought if he found a tenant he would be able to handle the political battle—but no tenant had emerged, so he had just left it vacant. Now it would be a perfect place to store his fortune.

  Oklahoma City, Oklahoma / Chicago, Illinois

  Sally was alone and pregnant. She could have told Pat that she was pregnant and he would have done anything she asked, but it would have been wrong. She loved him more than anyone she’d ever known, but she couldn’t trap him with a baby.

  A smartass might say she had some sort of father fixation on Pat. Well, maybe. How the hell would she know? What she knew was that he was funny, kind, generous, and cared about her a bunch. If he’d asked her to stay and just be his mistress she would have done it in a heartbeat, but of course there would have been the child.

  She didn’t hate his family—she didn’t know them, so how could she hate them?—but she hated that they seemed to take him for granted. Sure, he was the one out chasing girls. But that didn’t happen unless there were problems at home. Maybe Bugs—what a stupid name—was a cold fish or something. Sally sure knew Pat was a wonderful lover, but maybe Bugs hated that stuff.

  Sally had called her sister, Molly. How had her mother come up with these names? Sally told her she was driving out the next day and would call her when she got to Chicago. Her sister didn’t sound thrilled.

  God, I wish I had a better option. Sally was dreading starting over. She had the money, and she could live on her own, at least for a while. But she needed a quick place to stay to give her time to sort out her next move. And she was pregnant. Sally hadn’t mentioned that to her sister—she was afraid Molly might not want her to come. She had a big decision to make, and she needed her sister’s support. But her sister had always seemed to be a little more like Hank than Sally when they were growing up, so who knew how she was going to react?

  At least she was leaving Oklahoma City with a hell lot more than when she’d arrived. Sally spent a large portion of the day packing her car. She thought about Pat a lot and had a few crying breaks. She had a lot of clothes now, as well as many other things he’d bought her. Each thing seemed to have a memory attached to it, so it was a slow process with all the emotional breaks she took.

  Once she had the car loaded she went back to the apartment and looked around. This had been home for a while, and she’d been wonderfully happy. It was hard to think about what was next without feeling like it would never be this good again.

  She had a restless night and woke early. After fixing coffee and toast, she sat at the small kitchen table with a map and planned her route. She was going to take as many as three days to reach Chicago. She knew you could do it quicker than that, but she really wasn’t in a hurry.

  Sally had never driven anywhere, like a family vacation or anything, and she was excited. She would head out early in the morning and probably stop in Springfield, Missouri. Her plan was to stay at inexpensive motels along the highway, just as if she were on a vacation.

  Her car was a 1953 Chevrolet Bel Air, which Pat had bought brand new. It wasn’t as snazzy as his big ol’ Cadillac, but Sally loved her car. She washed and waxed it almost every week—giving the teen boys in the neighborhood quite a treat. The car was a light blue, with a dark blue fabric interior. She felt very sophisticated driving in her new Chevy.

  Before she left, she locked up the apartment, went by the manager’s unit, and left the key in his mail box with a little note that Pat would pick it up. For a moment she just stood on the manager’s porch, as if she weren’t sure what to do next—than she snapped out of it and headed toward her car.

  Once she got moving she started to feel better. The first part of the drive took her up to Tulsa. What she saw of it seemed different than Oklahoma City—greener, and maybe cleaner. She kind of liked what she saw. It crossed her mind maybe she should just stop and find a place here. Did she really want to go live with her sister? Of course the answer that always came back to her was: you’re pregnant. She was going to need help and she didn’t know anyone who lived in Tulsa. So keep driving. She did.

  After Tulsa, the landscape started to change to hills and tall trees. She hadn’t realized that Oklahoma had places with mountains, but there they were. Not quite Rocky Mountain peaks, but a lot more than she’d ever seen in Dallas. She was enjoying being a tourist.

  She couldn’t help but think about Pat as she drove. She thought about the first time he’d offered her money and how she’d bit his head off, or the time he’d sent the plane into a dive through those clouds—was he crazy or what? Then, of course, her kidnapping experience with that hoodlum Giovanni. Even now the thought of Giovanni gave her chills. What a creep that guy was. But mostly she thought of Pat and smiled. She loved him so much.

  She got to Springfield while it was still daylight. She debated continuing since she wasn’t tired. A road sign said that a place called Marshfield was about thirty more miles ahead and had five motels. She decided to continue on that far. It turned out that Marshfield wasn’t much, and there were now only four motels. One of those had been boarded up, one she wouldn’t go near, which left two. She arbitrarily selected the Traveler’s Inn.

  Pulling into the lot, Sally saw the office just ahead. She went in, but there was no one there. “Hello.” No response. She looked for a bell or something, but found nothing. After waiting a few minutes, she left. She got back in her car and headed toward the Rest Haven Court. Once again she pulled into the lot and went into the office. As soon as she entered: “Well hello, dear, looking for a room? You aren’t traveling alone are you? Gracious, dear, you better be careful. Now let’s see what we have available.” All of this came from the most pleasant-looking woman Sally had ever seen, although she was rather large. She looked like an image an artist would paint of a grandmother.

  “Thank you very much. I am traveling alone—I’m meeting my husband in Chicago.” Sally knew it was wrong to lie, but sometimes it just made things easier.

  “I just got into town, and for no particular reason I pulled into the Traveler’s Inn, but no one ever came out to help me so I decided to come over here.”

  “You’re talking about Beth Higgins. She and her husband own the Inn. They both have a drinking problem, so after five sometimes it’s a little hard to get their attention. Then—if you can believe it—she’ll complain and moan about not having enough guests. My lands, the poor woman just doesn’t seem to have good sense.”

  “Here we go dear. Room number twenty-four was just cleaned this morning by my granddaughter. She does a better job than Patsy, who normally cleans. But Patsy’s always sick. How can you keep a job if you’re always sick? I have no idea.”
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  “Well, I’m sure the room will be very nice. Thank you so much. How much will it be for one night?”

  She gave Sally the price. Maybe she should just stay in Marshfield. At these rates she could last a long time on her “Pat money.” She could even offer some cleaning competition to Patsy. No, not a good idea.

  “That sounds very reasonable. Also, is there a place around here I could get a bite to eat?”

  “Of course, my dear. This here is the highway. If you go down to the next street and turn left, that’s going to be Main Street. Just go about a block and on the right will be Jackson’s Diner—best food in town.”

  Sally thanked her again and paid her bill. She pulled the car around and parked in front of number twenty-four, then unpacked just a few things for the night and left everything else in the car. She followed the directions to Jackson’s Diner, where she was greeted warmly and enjoyed what amounted to a home-cooked meal of fried chicken and mashed potatoes.

  Sally got unwelcome stares from a couple of farm workers, but she ignored them. As she was leaving, one of the jerks made an offensive remark.

  “Man, that is one goddamn sweet ass on you baby. Maybe you’d like to show me more? What do you say, sugar?” The moron smiled to his friend like he’d said something clever.

  Sally walked over to the lady who had greeted her when she arrived and asked if they had a police department or a sheriff’s department. The lady looked a little surprised at the question, but told her there was a sheriff’s department. Sally asked if she would call them. The jerks got the hint and left.

  Sally waited for the sheriff’s deputy. He arrived in a matter of minutes. Sally told him what they had said and that it concerned her. He asked her where she was staying and told her that they would make sure the clowns didn’t cause her any problems. The deputy went on to say that they were harmless little punks anyway. He seemed to want to talk further with Sally, but she excused herself and thanked him for his help.

  She returned to the Court and entered her room. She had dealt with men like the guys at the diner her entire life and was getting sick of it. She knew her good looks had helped her a lot in life, but sometimes it was just exhausting. She forgot about the incident and slept well. In the morning she woke early and repacked her car.

  Sally decided she needed a good breakfast to start her day of travel and went back to the Jackson Diner. The same lady was working and greeted her like a long lost daughter. It was a very warm feeling. Sally enjoyed the best breakfast she’d ever had—if the Jackson Diner wasn’t the best food in town she’d like to try the place that was.

  She got back on the highway and headed off toward St. Louis. As she drove, she could see a large area of forest off to her right. She couldn’t judge just how big the area was, but it had to be huge. She drove from one little town to the next, most of them looking a lot like the one she’d just passed through. Of course, the people living there would have disagreed, but from Sally’s perspective they all seemed the same.

  The trip had been fun and she was getting to see a lot of things, but she was still very worried. She kept thinking of Pat and what would happen with him and his family. Then she would think about herself and how she would manage a child. My goodness, a child. Sally almost couldn’t think about it—it was just too big. Sometimes while thinking she would get so upset and frightened that she would have to pull off of the road and calm herself.

  The emotional breaks were slowing her down and she willed herself not to not take these short crying sessions on the side of the road any more. With determination, she kept herself on the go and started making good time. She decided to stay in a larger motel this time, one that had a restaurant. She found a Holiday Inn on the north side of St. Louis and checked in. The room was nice, and it felt safer to eat in the motel than to have to go out. She rested well and was up early again in the morning.

  Sally had called her sister, but hadn’t reached her. She had Molly’s address, but she wanted to make sure everything was still okay for her to be there today.

  On the road, she tried to stop worrying about her sister and just enjoy the scenery. As she got closer to Chicago, the traffic got a lot heavier. She knew Chicago was a big town, but maybe she hadn’t realized how big. Everything slowed down. It was going to take some time to get to downtown where Molly lived.

  Sally exited from the highway and followed her sister’s directions to the neighborhood where she lived. As she drove around looking for the street, she was astounded at how bad the whole area looked. In Dallas she’d always thought they’d lived in a slum, but it hadn’t been nearly as bad as this. She was getting nervous.

  She found the right street and, she thought, the building in which Molly had an apartment. She parked her car and locked it—though it still didn’t feel safe. After a little hesitation she went into the building and located apartment number 210. Sally knocked. The door was opened by a very thin, shirtless teenager with a serious acne problem. “Who the hell are you?” Ugly and a moron.

  “I’m looking for my sister, Molly—is this her apartment?”

  “Her apartment—that’s a good one. This is my apartment and sometimes she stays here.”

  Well shit. This was not what was supposed to be happening at all.

  “Is she here?”

  “Nope.”

  “Do you know where she is?”

  “Yep.”

  Sally had no idea how the guy had lived this long, but she was about thirty seconds away from helping all humanity by killing the little shit.

  “Look. I’m her sister I’d like to see her—if you know where she is, tell me—now!”

  “Hell, you don’t have to get upset. She’s at work. Ed’s Deli, just around the corner. My god you’re just as nuts as she is.”

  Sally left. She had come here to get support from her sister, but it looked like Molly was the one who needed some help. She couldn’t believe that her little sister was living with that creep. Sally quickly found Ed’s Deli. Molly was busing tables.

  “Molly.”

  “Oh my god, Sally. Why didn’t you call and let me know you were going to be here today? I would have taken off work or something. Oh my God—you look great.” They hugged.

  Molly asked the guy behind the counter, no doubt Ed, if she could talk to her sister for a minute and he said yes—a very generous sort.

  They chatted a while about how her trip had gone and how she’d been. Sally asked Molly if she was staying at the address she had for her and living with the guy she’d just met there. Molly acted a little sheepish, but said she was. Sally told her she was going to get a room somewhere and asked if Molly could come there and meet with her. Molly said she couldn’t—that if it was close, maybe, but she didn’t have a car or much money.

  After more we-are-getting-nowhere discussion, Sally asked the man at the counter if there was a reasonably priced hotel close by. Turned out there was what he described as a very nice hotel about two blocks down the street. Sally talked to Molly, told her about the hotel, and that she was going there now to see if she could get a room. Sally wanted her to call the hotel in about an hour and ask for her room and they could make arrangements to meet. If she couldn’t get a room, she’d come back to the deli.

  As it turned out, it really was a nice hotel and Sally had no problem getting a room. The two blocks seemed to make a significant difference in the overall feel of the neighborhood. Sally was able to park her car in the underground hotel parking. Molly called, and they made arrangements to meet at eight that night—Sally told her not to bring her boyfriend.

  They met in the hotel lobby, then went up to Sally’s room rather than the bar or restaurant. Molly wasn’t dressed very well. They talked a lot that night, and Sally began to realize that Molly was in need of a big sister. It made her sad, but also it got her mind off of herself, which was good.

  Over the next week, Sally found a very reasonably priced apartment in a nice neighborhood not far from the hotel. S
he asked Molly to move in with her, but Molly hesitated. Of course, Molly thought she loved the skinny jerk—although in time she did move in with Sally. Sally purchased some used furniture and a couple of beds and got the apartment looking pretty good.

  Sally also had found a job as a waitress in one of the upscale restaurants downtown. She knew how to wait tables, and after a couple of weeks her tips were covering her and Molly’s living expenses. She had spent a good chunk of the “Pat money,” but not all, so she was feeling pretty good.

  Months went by, and she and Molly got into a good routine. Molly was still working at Ed’s, but she wasn’t seeing the skinny creep any longer. She was taking better care of herself, and she was being noticed by a better class of creep.

  As happens in life, though, it didn’t stay good for long. Sally starting feeling bad. She was only showing a little, but there was no doubt in her mind that it had to do with the baby. She went to a doctor, who said he couldn’t find anything wrong with her. He recommended that she stop working and just rest. Thanks a lot Doc.

  Sally missed work more and more because she was ill. At first the restaurant manager was very supportive—after all, she was his most popular waitress—but soon he said he was going to have to hire someone else if she couldn’t work more often. Then he fired her.

  Calculating how much money she had and what they were spending, Sally figured she could stay home and rest for the last month or so of the pregnancy, and then once she had the baby she could go back to work. She also thought she could call Pat. She decided she would never put the child at risk, so if she had to she would call Pat—she also knew he would want her to. Once she had decided what to do if worse came to worst, she stopped worrying about money.