The American Café

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The American Café Page 24

by Sara Sue Hoklotubbe


  Emma blinked wildly at Sadie. “I thought they all lived on welfare.”

  “No, we don't all live on welfare. Where do you get that stuff? We work and pay taxes in this country like everyone else does. It's a lot harder for Indians to get jobs around here because of attitudes like yours. Believe it or not, Emma, we're not going away anytime soon.”

  “Well, I'm sorry.” Emma's eyes began to water and her face turned sour.

  “That's okay. I don't think we're going to cure the ills of centuries of Indian-white history here.” Sadie turned, picked up the picture again and quickly moved the conversation forward. “What did you say happened to Goldie's boyfriend?”

  “He ran off,” snorted Emma, “and never came back for Goldie. Served her right.”

  Sadie looked at the initials on the beadwork and suddenly remembered the grainy photo in the newspaper article about Red's brother. “Was his name Yahola?”

  Emma frowned. “I don't know. It was more than thirty years ago. It doesn't matter anymore.”

  The front door opened and Rosalee rushed in. With a radiant smile, she held up a pink invoice and waved it in the air. “This is going to tell us for sure.” Rosalee sounded excited. “I don't know how to thank you, Sadie.”

  Emma wiped her eyes with the back of her hand. “What's this all about, Rosalee? What do we need to thank Sadie for?”

  “She lent me a hundred dollars so I could pay John Mobley to give me a blood sample.”

  “A hundred dollars?” gasped Emma.

  “We just met at Dr. Brown's office and he drew the blood. Red's going to get it tested for us.”

  “Oh.” Emma's face fell. “I can't believe this. I don't know why you and Goldie want to hurt me like this after everything I've done for you.” She turned on her heels and stormed into the bedroom.

  Sadie looked at Rosalee. “Why did she say ‘you and Goldie’?”

  Rosalee shrugged. “I don't know and I don't care. I'm tired of her trying to make me feel guilty. It isn't going to work anymore.”

  “Do you know anyone named Skye?”

  Rosalee smiled and her face softened. “The last time I saw Aunt Goldie, she called me that. She said I was like the sky on a cloudless day.”

  Sadie picked up the envelope and handed it to Rosalee. “Then I guess this is for you.”

  Rosalee sat down on the edge of the sofa and ran her finger under the flap of the envelope and unfolded a legal document. After she looked at it for a moment her eyes widened and her face lit up. “Oh, my gosh. Mother's really going to be pissed off about this.”

  “What is it?” asked Sadie.

  Rosalee hurriedly stuffed the paper back in the envelope. “It's a deed to Aunt Goldie's house, and it's made out to me.” She stood and wiggled her behind. “My mother is going to croak.” She stopped dancing and faced Sadie. “Please don't tell her about this just yet. Okay?”

  Sadie smiled at Rosalee's antics and nodded. “Okay.”

  “I'm going to wait outside for John,” continued Rosalee. “He should be here any minute.” She walked to the door. “He wants to talk. Can you believe it? He's acting like a normal human being.” She held the envelope in the air. “This is going to change everything.”

  As Rosalee left the room, Sadie returned to the box of pictures and dug out the beaded bag from under several pictures. When she tugged the drawstring open and looked inside, she saw two yellowed pieces of paper, each folded many times to fit inside the small purse. She gingerly removed them and carefully unfolded two handwritten notes. She read the one that appeared to be the oldest first.

  My dearest Goldie,

  Tomorrow I leave for a place on the other side of the world. I made this purse for you so when you look at it you will know that my heart is here with you. I will think of you every day and when I return we will make a home and a family together. I pledge my love to you forever and ever.

  Love, Mickey

  Sadie swallowed hard and unfolded the second piece of paper. She read it and took a deep breath. “I'm afraid this is going to change more than anyone ever dreamed,” she muttered to herself as she refolded both notes and returned them to the bag. As she replaced the purse in the box with the pictures, her cell phone rang. It was Lance.

  “Oh, Lance, wait ’til you hear what I just found out. Goldie had a beaded bag and inside—”

  Sadie could hear alarm in Lance's voice through the tinny speaker of her cell phone. “Sadie, I did some checking with Matthew Littledave in Siloam Springs. According to his records, Goldie Ray rented a red Geo Tracker on July 22 and returned it on July 24.”

  “So?” she asked and switched the phone to her other ear, hoping to hear better.

  “Goldie was murdered on the morning of July 23.” He paused for a moment for that fact to sink in. “She paid in cash. One of the boys took her money and failed to get a credit card or a picture I.D.”

  “Oh, no.”

  “The kid recognized Emma in the café this morning as Goldie Ray because that was the name she used when she rented the car. And that's not all. The shotgun that Gertie used on me was traced back to a gun dealer, also in Siloam Springs. It was sold to Emily Singer. Sadie, you were right. It's the same gun that killed Goldie Ray.”

  Sadie gasped. “Emma bought the gun?” Her heart dropped like a rock as she realized what that must mean. She turned toward the kitchen, hoping to make a quick exit out the back door. Suddenly, she felt something very cold and hard in the middle of her back.

  Sadie twirled around and her knees buckled. All she could see was the barrel of a .410 shotgun.

  “Emma! No!” yelled Sadie.

  “Sadie, where are you?” Lance's voice squawked through the phone.

  Emma struck Sadie's hand with the end of the gun barrel and the phone flew onto the floor. Sadie eased backward in an attempt to increase the distance between her and the shotgun. Emma stood her ground.

  “Where's the money?” asked Emma, as she poked at Sadie with the gun.

  “What money?”

  “Don't play innocent with me. I know Goldie had some cash money from selling the café. You bought it, so where is it?”

  “I don't know anything about Goldie's money, Emma. But I know she had a lot of doctor bills.”

  “I don't believe you. She always hid her money under her mattress. I turned her bed upside down, and all I found was five hundred dollars. That ain't squat and you know it. You cheated her out of that café, didn't you?” She jabbed at Sadie with the end of the gun again. “Never mind. I'm going to kill you anyway. The café is going to be mine. I've already proved I can run it without help from anyone, including you and Rosalee. She's nothing but a drunk. I heard you in here asking her who Skye was. This is all going to stop right here.”

  “Think, Emma.” Sadie tried to stay calm. “You will never get away with this.”

  “I got away with it last time, didn't I? And I'll get away with it again.”

  “You're not thinking straight. Rosalee's right outside.”

  “I don't care. You've turned her against me. I worked my hands to the bone to support that girl, and she turned out to be a drunk. She's done nothing but cause me heartache for thirty-six years. Nothing!”

  Sadie looked at the phone on the floor and wondered if Lance heard enough to realize what was going on. But where was he? If he was still at Littledave's car lot in Siloam Springs, he would never make it in time. Emma's eyes looked like they belonged to a rabid dog, totally void of any emotion. I've got to keep talking, thought Sadie.

  “She just wants to know who her birth mother was,” said Sadie. “That's not so bad, is it? Tell her, Emma. You know who her mother was. It's not the end of the world for her to know Goldie was her mother. She's going to find out anyway and this way you can work through it together. This is not worth ruining your life over.”

  “My life is already ruined. You ruined it.”

  “No, Emma. I didn't do anything to hurt you.”

  “You took
the café. It should have been mine. I could have run it all these years just as good as she did. Mom and Daddy gave her that café because they loved her more than they loved me. And she was the one having an illegitimate baby. She was a slut. I had to take her baby and raise it, and she got to keep the café. What kind of deal was that?”

  “Emma, just put the gun down and we can work it out.” Keep talking, keep talking, Sadie reminded herself. “We'll talk about it. I promise it'll be okay. You can have the café. I'll give it to you.”

  “It's too late for you.” Emma blinked wildly. “Do you have any idea how hard it was for me to act like I actually cared about Goldie and stay in a town where everyone thought she was the best thing that ever stirred up a pot of beans? I had to kill her. She was going to tell Rosalee the truth, that she was her mother. God knows who the father is. Probably that Indian boy who ran off and left her. You see, Goldie always got everything she wanted. She screwed up and gave away her baby. Then she wanted it back. I just couldn't let that happen.” Emma's chin began to quiver. “It's not fair.”

  The front door opened and John Mobley walked in with Rosalee close behind.

  “Mother!” screamed Rosalee.

  “Get out!” yelled Emma, as she swung the .410 toward the door.

  “You crazy old woman. You're as bad as my mother.” Without a hint of hesitation, John marched straight toward Emma with the confidence of a seasoned Marine. He grabbed the shotgun, jerked the barrel toward him, and ripped the stock from Emma's hands just as she pulled the trigger. The power of the deafening blast knocked Emma backward onto the floor. John Mobley crumpled, holding his chest.

  “No!” screamed Rosalee as she fell to John's side. “John, John, please don't die,” she cried, as she tried to stop the bleeding with her hand. “He's not breathing!” she yelled. “Someone help me! He's not breathing!”

  Sadie ran to the phone, dialed 9-1-1, and begged Maggie to send help immediately. Emma rolled onto her stomach and crawled slowly toward the bedroom.

  “Stay put, Emma!” Sadie yelled as she dropped the phone. She kicked the shotgun out of reach and placed her knee in the small of Emma's back to keep her from moving.

  Rosalee, covered in blood, cradled John's head and rocked back and forth. Tears streamed down her face. “Why? Why?” she repeated. Emma began to cry as the sound of a siren sang in the distance.

  33

  Sadie and Rosalee sat cross-legged on a blanket of grass in the shade of a tall blackgum tree. They took turns tossing pebbles into the rippling water of a nearby stream and watching as, periodically, the tree surrendered a fiery red leaf to the late September breeze. Some leaves floated slowly to the ground, while others landed in the water and rode the current until they disappeared downstream.

  “I didn't even know this park was here,” Rosalee said.

  “It's kind of nice, isn't it? It's peaceful.”

  Red walked down a slope covered in crimson sumac on the opposite side of the stream. He wore his black hat with an unusually large feather secured under a beaded band and carried a bundle under his arm. He hopped across a makeshift bridge of large rocks and joined the two women.

  “Thank you for coming,” he said. “I couldn't think of a nicer place to talk.”

  Sadie started to stand.

  “No,” he said. “Stay seated.” He chose a spot in front of them, placed the bundle on the grass, and sat down next to it. He looked at Rosalee and winked. “We have the test results back.”

  “Oh, Red, I should have told you. We don't need that test any more. I know Goldie was my mother, not Pearl.”

  Red ignored her. “And the results were positive,” he said.

  “Positive?” Sadie asked.

  Red nodded once. “Positive,” he repeated.

  “But I know John Mobley was not my brother,” Rosalee said. “You're wrong.”

  “I always knew John Mobley, may he rest in peace, was not your brother,” he said.

  Rosalee stared at him. “If you knew that, why did you let me go through all of that with the stupid blood test?”

  “I knew John wasn't your brother because I buried his twin sister.”

  Both women looked stunned.

  “When Pearl was raped,” he continued, “and yes, you were right about the article, she was raped behind the café, her folks were so embarrassed about Pearl's predicament that they took her to a little shack in the woods behind their place. They left her there with food and supplies and checked on her about once a week.”

  “Oh, my.” Sadie shook her head.

  “I came upon Pearl not long after she had given birth to twins, a boy and a girl. She had wrapped John in a towel and propped him against a tree. He was screaming his head off. She was holding the little girl under the water in the creek. I rushed over to her, but the baby was dead. Pearl was delirious. I don't really know if she drowned the poor thing, or if it died during childbirth. I put Pearl and John back in the cabin and buried the baby. Then I walked to her folks' place and told them they needed to get up there and take care of their daughter.”

  “That's why Pearl kept saying someone took her baby girl.” Sadie hugged her knees to her chest.

  “Did you tell anyone about the other baby?” Rosalee asked.

  “No, not until now. I don't know if that was right or wrong, but that was the decision I made and I've lived with it all these years.”

  “I don't understand.” Rosalee shrugged her shoulders. “Then how can the test results be positive? You just said Pearl was John's mother, and I know Goldie was mine.”

  Red untied the string around the bundle and unrolled the piece of suede holding the contents together. He uncovered an old envelope, opened it, removed the letter inside, and held it in his hand. “This is the last letter I received from my brother before his helicopter was shot down in Vietnam. I never really understood what he was talking about. Now I know.” He unfolded the letter and began to read:

  Dear Brother,

  Keep the fire burning for me. Soon there will be another baby Red Stick warrior born to carry on our legacy. And, brother, we are going to eat very well for the rest of our lives.

  Mickey

  Rosalee looked around. “I don't get it,” she said.

  Tears streamed down Sadie's cheeks as she looked into Red's face and felt the impact of his brother's words.

  “How can you tell anything from that letter?” Rosalee sounded irritated. “This doesn't make any sense to me.”

  Red pulled another envelope out, this time from his shirt pocket. “I asked the lab to check your blood against mine. They had a DNA sample from me, because they had to have it to identify Mickey's remains.”

  Rosalee stared at Red.

  “Mickey was my twin brother. Our DNA is identical. You are Mickey's daughter. I am your uncle. I knew it the first time I saw you, but I wouldn't let myself believe it. But it's true. And here is the proof.” He dug in the contents of the bundle again and pulled out a photograph of his brother. “You have his smile,” he said, “and his laugh. Yes, you are his. I told you one time that you were conceived in Liberty. To tell you the truth, I don't know where conception took place. But I can tell you one thing. You were conceived in love. Your daddy and your momma loved you.”

  Tears glazed Rosalee's eyes. She took the photograph and held it carefully in her hand. “Why did he refer to me as a Red Stick?”

  Red laughed. “When we were born, my father looked at my brother and deemed him to be a great leader and named him McIntosh after a Creek chief. We called him Mickey. He looked at me and decided I should be a great warrior and named me Eto Catuce, which means Red Stick, so they called me Red. But my brother didn't want to be a leader. He wanted to be a warrior.”

  “I went to Vietnam and fought in a senseless war. I came home and, as a combat veteran, became a member of the Creek Red Stick Society. Mickey was so proud of me he wanted to go, too. I begged him not to go. I knew how bad it was. But he joined the army anyway and shi
pped off to be just like his brother. Only he didn't make it home, not for thirty-six years anyway. But now you are here, and that is good.”

  Rosalee swallowed hard. “I can't believe this.” She looked at Sadie. “Did you know about this?”

  “No, not for sure, but I suspected that was the case. When I approached Red about it, he asked me to allow him to take care of it in his own time. And I did.”

  Rosalee took a deep breath. “I don't know what to say.”

  “You don't have to say anything.” Red pulled a small beaded purse from his shirt. “Mickey made this for you. It matches the one he gave your mother, Goldie.” He rewrapped the bundle and placed the bag on top. “These things are for you. Take them, and when you are ready we will talk.”

  Rosalee reached for the items and he held her hand in his.

  “I am so sorry.” Red dropped his chin to his chest. “As Mickey's brother, it was my responsibility to take care of Goldie. I had no idea she was in danger. I am so sorry. Maybe I can do a better job taking care of their daughter.”

  Sadie wiped her face. “It's okay, Red.”

  The following month faded into shades of burnt copper and golden red across the October countryside. Before long, the winter rains would arrive and wash away the leaves, revealing the bare bones of the oak and maple and the pale bark of the birch. But for now, the warmth of the afternoon sun had temporarily returned.

  Sadie and Lance waited in Sadie's Explorer in front of the Cherokee County Courthouse. Sonny sat in the backseat, trying to force his head and shoulders between the front bucket seats.

  “I still don't understand how the shotgun that killed Goldie ended up in a meth house in Delaware County,” Sadie said.

 

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