by J Moon
“To the home for happy feet and the only place to be on a Friday night in 1926. The Savoy. Come let’s shake a leg,” he said with a nod of his head. “I have a friend who can help us.”
Nia shrugged. “Cool let’s go.”
The Savoy was on 596 Lenox Avenue, between 140th and 141st Streets, a mere five blocks away. As the two time travelers eased on down the road, Nia marveled at the dazzling streets and signs of Harlem.
A late summer night in Harlem had every resident dancing on the streets, perched on stoops, or looking down from the fire escapes. Nia was enthused from the vintage fashion and energy of the community. She felt it from the people on the sidewalk, to the ones laughing in their cars, riding buses, and waving from their windows.
To Nia it reminded her of Christmas in New York. Normally the city was filled with people focused on grinding, working, or too involved in their own drama. Christmas was the only time she could remember for a long time, where people were just happy to be alive, and open to being kind to one another.
The night grew colder as they strolled along, and a chilling breeze swept the streets. Nia shivered and clutched at her shoulders as the wind swept through the loose hairs of her bun. She felt the archangel saunter behind her.
“Nia, come here. You’re going to catch a cold sweetheart. Here, take my coat.” Gabe edged closer to her, and slipped his coat over her shoulders. Nia pulled closer to him. Her body shuddered at his touch.
“Thanks,” Nia said with a smile.
“You’re welcome.”
Side by side they walked along with Gabe sweeping for security hazards. It was only after two blocks that Nia noticed something strange.
On every other light pole, bus stop, and back of a building, she saw a missing person poster. She thought about it and try as he may, she couldn’t remember an event in time where so many black men went missing in the twenty’s.
Nia looked over to Gabe with her eyes full of bewilderment. “Are you seeing this?”
Gabe’s eyes darted ahead. “Yes,” he said almost dismissing her.
“Why are all these men missing?” Nia asked.
“I don’t know,” Gabe said with his voice sounding irritated. “We need to hurry to the Savoy. The quicker I get a lead on the staff the better.”
Across the street Nia noticed an older black woman who looked distraught and desperate as she handed out flyers. The woman was broad and husky in stature. Nia could take one look at her and tell she was a church going woman by the way she wore her pearls, the cocked hat she wore on her head, and how immaculate and tidy her suit fit her. All of this reminded Nia of the old church mothers who lived in her neighborhood. The woman stopped anyone who would listen to her talk about her missing son.
“Has anyone seen my son?” she asked out loud to which no one paid attention. Her voice held a note of heartache that sounded like she was already past the point of tears. Still she kept shouting and looking at anyone who passed by. “If anyone has seen Jimmy please let me know. We miss him. He has a mother and two sisters who need him.”
Something about the woman reminded Nia of her own grandmother who had died a few years before her mother. She walked towards the woman but the archangel tugged her back.
“What are you doing?”
“I want to go talk to that lady.”
“Why? Her son is probably dead.” The words came so cold, and casually that Nia had a knee jerk reaction when she punched him in the arm.
Gabe looked at her. “What was that for?”
Nia curled her lip, “For being a dick.” She nodded towards the lady. “Come on.”
“We don’t have time,” Gabe objected but it was too late as Nia had already crossed the street.
“Have you seen my son?” The lady asked when her eyes fell on Nia.
“No. I haven’t seen him, but I wanted to come over and ask what happened.”
The woman took a deep, aching breath. “That’s it, I don’t know.” She gasped as if losing her breath at the end of the sentence. “He went over to his friend’s house for a party and never came back. They said they saw him leaving Fifth Avenue but after that no one has seen him.”
Nia folded her arms and lifted her chin. “Well, what do the police say?”
Anger formed around the mother's eyes. “I went to the police, and they told me he might’ve ran away, which I know is a lie. I raised that boy by myself and I know he wouldn’t do that. He is responsible. He has been helping take care of me, and his sisters for a long time. So tell me why would he just up and leave all of a sudden?”
Nia shook her head. “That doesn’t make any sense to me either.”
Gabe finally spoke up. “I’m sorry about your son, ma’am.” He placed a hand on her shoulder. She looked up at him after feeling the warmth of his touch. The lady fell into the archangel’s gaze. Her spirit told her that something supernatural was happening. What she felt was the light of the Creator flowing out of the archangel. “Have a bit of faith,” Gabe said solemnly with a glint of a smile in his eyes.
“I’m trying,” she whispered.
Nia marveled at the scene as she watched the exchange between the two. “Well my name is Nia, and this is Gabe. If we hear anything about your son, we will let you know.”
The lady took Nia’s hand in her own. “Thank you, Nia. My name is Miss Shirley.”
“It was nice meeting you, Miss Shirley.”
A smile swept across Miss Shirley’s face. “It was nice meeting you too, sweetheart. God bless you.”
Gabe waved Miss Shirley bye as he put a hand around Nia. She turned to him. “See that wasn’t too bad. We probably made her feel better if only for a moment. That’s what angels are supposed to do right?”
“I suppose you're right,” Gabe agreed as they strolled along the sidewalk.
Moments later they arrived to the crowded entrance of the Savoy Ballroom. Both black folks and whites dressed in their best were coming in and out of the club. Before the doors could open, Nia could hear the loud and infectious music being played inside. Instinctively her feet began to tap as her head bopped along to the beat.
“You are going to love this, Ms. Carter,” enthused Gabe as he leapt off the sidewalk to the street, his eyes alight with childish optimism.
Nia paused to listed. “It sounds like one hell of a party in there.”
He smiled at her, “Trust me you have no idea.” Gabe extended his hand. “Shall we?”
Nia beamed, “We shall!”
“Twenty cents” the man behind the ticket booth proclaimed.
“That’s it?” Nia questioned. “Back home I can’t even get a cup of ice with that. Let alone get into the club.”
“You can’t beat it.”
Gabe paid the man and together hand in hand, they strolled into the Savoy. As soon as they stepped inside they were welcomed by wonderful music. Two bands were playing and the tune they made was loud, thunderous, and possessive. Nia’s heart pumped as her adrenaline surged. She wanted to dance. She had no clue what they were doing, but she still wanted to dance.
The music and atmosphere was so compelling. Smiling faces were everywhere. Everyone came with one thing on their minds and that was the need to dance. Nia felt a joyous spirit wrapping itself around her and she did not want it to let go. It was hot as a Jamaican basement party with all the people packed on the dance floor swinging and flying in the air. Beads of sweat formed at the top of her forehead, causing her baby hair to prickle up. Just like a church mother she fanned herself as they explored the ballroom.
The Savoy was comprised of three entertaining rooms and one huge mahogany dance floor. The first which was the largest, was reserved for gambling, men who played cards or rolled dice. The second was for fine dining with a few tables decorated in fine linens, chinaware, and a tower of champagne glasses. The last room was for adult entertainment. Nia watched as two women dressed in colorful and alluring gowns lead a group of guys to the back by pulling one of them by the tie
.
To the far left of the dance floor there was a circle forming. Gabe couldn’t make out much but from what he could see there was a woman in the center and she was putting on a show. Gabe watched the girl on the dance floor from afar because she reminded him of someone so familiar.
He tugged Nia, “Let’s see what’s going on here?”
Together they pushed past the crowd to see what all the commotion was about. Inside the circle was a girl carrying on to the music. Her kicks were high, and the crowd was enthused as she made silly faces while bopping and swaying to the beat.
“I see you girl. You better get it!” Nia shouted as she joined the others who clapped along and marveled at the girls dancing.
With no hesitation Gabe jumped into the circle and took the girl by the hand. When the two locked eyes she looked at him like an old friend.
Together they proceeded to enthrall the crowd further as they danced in a supernatural frenzy. Back and forth they swayed hand in hand, then Gabe tossed her up high into the air before catching her. Then the two bopped and shimmied behind one another while wagging their hands. Gabe then bent over while she hopped over him, and went back to displaying her crazy foot work.
As Nia watched Gabe dance with this extraordinary girl, a man brushed by her and almost made her fall.
“Excuse you,” Nia snapped, frowning at him.
The man smiled, “Oh I’m sorry Miss I could barely see you on the count of your hair.”
She looked at him like he was crazy. “My hair? What’s wrong with my hair?”
“I wouldn’t say something is wrong with it. It’s just a bit high. I’ve never seen any girl around here fix their hair like that. May I ask what do you have on?” He asked politely in an upbeat tone that was rather refined.
Nia considered the man for a moment. “This is J&K thank you,” Nia shot back. And then it dawned on her she was almost ninety years into the past. Her attire was totally out of sync with what everyone else had on.
His grinned widened, “I didn’t mean to offend. It’s just I’ve never seen an outfit so form fitting before. Let’s start over,” he said as he extended his hand. “My name is Langston.”
“Look, Langston I don’t know who you are nor do I care. I’m from Brooklyn and I don’t play that—” She said before cutting herself off mid-breath. Then for a moment Nia stepped back and examined the man further under the dim light of the Savoy.
He was tall, slim with a swimmer’s build, and high yellow as Pop would refer to his skin color. Even in the darkness of the Savoy Nia couldn’t help noticing that Langston was incredibly good looking-not just regular good looking, but Tumblr boy fine, with rapper Drake’s cheekbones and dimples. Something about his eyes looked so familiar and then she realized. “Your last name wouldn’t happen to be Hughes would it?”
His eyes lit up. “Yes, it is.”
“Oh snap,” Nia covered her mouth. She was mortified. Langston Hughes was hitting on her. Never meet your heroes, she thought to herself.
“Well, if it isn’t the prolific Langston Hughes!” Gabe exclaimed as he exited the mass of the crowd.
Langston’s eyes widened. It had been years since he last encountered the archangel who saved his life. “You’re back! And you couldn’t have come at a better time.”
Gabe rested a hand on his shoulder, “What’s going on my boy?”
“Black men have been disappearing around here left and right.”
Gabe looked over to Nia and then back to Langston. “That’s what we’ve been hearing. It seems I have come at the right time.”
Gabriel's dance partner sauntered behind him and cleared her throat as she rested on Gabe’s shoulders.
He glanced over at the vision of loveliness behind him and said, “Where are my manners? Langston Hughes meet the lovely Josephine Baker,” Gabe exclaimed.
Josephine extended her hand. “How do you do?”
Langston took her hand and fell into the pool of her honey brown eyes. “Very well Ms. Baker. I heard about your performance in Paris. I have many friends who went to that show. It’s wonderful to think a negro could be so beloved by many.”
“Let me also add they call her Black Venus, Black Pearl and the Creole Goddess.”
Josephine smacked Gabe on the chest as she cackled, “Oh shug stop it! You are way too kind.” Josephine spoke in an alluring feminine voice. The quality of her tone reminded Nia of the many femme fatales she grew up watching in Pop’s classic noir movies. She wore a sparkling dress with a plunging neckline, styled with long shiny pearls around her neck. Nia thought to herself that Josephine looked incredibly fierce.
Gabe wrapped his arm around Nia. “And let me also introduce to you my extraordinary friend and a remarkable girl...Ms. Nia Carter.”
Nia winced at the mention of the word extraordinary in front of her name, but still she smiled as she took Josephine’s hand. Josephine pushed her hand aside, pulled her into an embrace, and kissed her on both cheeks.
“That’s how we say hello in Paris, sugar. Any friend of this handsome devil is a friend of mine.”
“Now that we have the formalities out of the way. Langston do you want to go somewhere to talk? I came for your help but it seems you also need mine. I think our problems might be one in the same my friend.” Gabe declared.
Langston nodded, “Yes, of course. Please won’t you all join me at my table?”
Langston led them across a sea of dancers to the far right side of the room under dim light. He was sitting in one of the best tables in the club. A corner spot with enough room for about eight.
As Nia sat down in the corner. “Hmm, you must have a lot of dough with a table like this. Best view in the house.”
Langston laughed modestly, “No, it’s only a gesture of appreciation. I get a lot of love in Harlem you see. I am a man who loves my community. A free meal here and a table there. It means the world to me. The love and respect of my community is a lot more than money.”
Nia nodded her head in approval, “I see.”
Langston leant forward, with a smirk on his face. A whiff of his cologne danced across the table. “One thing I’ve come to know is that Harlem will take care of you if you take care of her.”
A petite woman came to the table to get their drink orders. Her hair was short and wavy, curled behind her ear. It was the trendy haircut of the time. She wore a small pin up dress with a plunging neckline. “Can I get you fine folks some drinks?”
Nia raised her hand. “Hennessy, please.”
The woman looked at her funny, and so did the others. An awkward silence followed. What did I say, Nia thought to herself? Then the sudden realization made her turn her head to the side.
“How about a round of Bourbon for us all,” Gabe suggested.
She smiled. “Coming right up.”
Gabe leaned over the table. “Langston, tell me what’s going on?”
“It started a few weeks ago,” Langston spoke up. “Black men have gone missing all over the east coast. We’re stunned that the newspapers or the radio doesn’t even mention it. At first it was random people like Nasty Nate the pimp and Ed the wino. Recently it’s been men with families, guys well known in the community like twist mouth George, Pastor Hughley, and now one of my dear friends Jimmy Lee.”
Josephine sparked up a cigarette. “Sounds like the Klan, if you ask me…. even worse it’s probably the police,” she purred.
Nia shook her head, “I doubt it. The Klan was only at large down south in the twenties.”
Langston looked quizzically at Nia before saying, “That’s what I thought too at first but this is different. Me and Zora have been following this for a while.” He leaned in further, his face serious. “Two weeks ago Jimmy Lee was leaving our place to go back home and the next day he was gone. His momma, the sanctified Miss Shirley said he never made it home that night. No one has heard from him ever since.”
Nia recalled the lady on the street. “Are you serious? We met her on the way
up here,” she said as she turned to Gabe to back up. “So what do you think happened to him-” pressed Nia. “How can all these people disappear without a trace? Without the news or anything being concerned?”
“Because a bunch of negroes disappearing in the 1920s doesn’t make the news,” Gabe spoke up.
Josephine waved away a cloud of smoke. “Either way this is why I plan on staying in Paris. It’s the only place where a black person can be free. Child shoot they let colored folk stay wherever they want, you can love whoever you choose, plus if you go to a nice joint like this the white people will wait on you and call you sir or madam.”
Langston snorted, “Sounds like the promised land.”
“Now that I’m back here, I’m starting to believe so.”
Mystery lingered in the air like the smoke from a candle. With a large tray in her hands, the waitress came back and set out cups of bourbon in front of everyone at the table.
Langston leaned over and drank, inviting Gabriel to do the same. “Honestly all of this started when this new big wig named Mr. Caraway rolled into town. Bought out the Cotton Club. Bought this factory on the outskirts of town. Hiring a bunch of the locals to do some digging around the factory, and he’s even put some of the mobsters out of business.”
“Who?” Gabe asked.
“Mr. Carraway.”
Gabe raised his brow, “Where did this Mr. Carraway come from?”
“That’s it... no one knows.”
Nia glanced over at Gabe and immediately concluded they were thinking the same thing. Could the disappearance of blacks on the streets of Harlem be connected to this demon in pursuit of the staff? Gabe thought the answer was absolutely and unequivocally yes.
Nia frowned. “Why does that name sound familiar?” She scratched her chin. “Is his first name Nick?”
“Possibly.”
“Like the book,” Nia asked.
“That’s clever,” Gabe retorted. “And why didn’t I think of that? I could’ve been Gatsby.”
Nia shrugged. “We just got here so maybe you still can.”
Gabe smiled another one of his dazzlingly smiles, and everyone at the table’s heart fluttered.