An Elderberry Fall

by Ruth P. Watson

  “Are you moving to Petersburg?”

  “No, I just wanted to spend some time alone with you. I didn’t want to whisper at the rooming house, and I didn’t want your friend Ethel thinking I wanted her—young women can get the wrong impression—even though she is beautiful. Now take us, Carrie, we are good for one another,” he said, breaking a subtle smile, and I sat back down and gazed at him intently.

  We stared each other in the eyes. Adam’s dark eyes, serious and focused, made me jittery, since I didn’t know how deep my feelings were for him. I was unable to figure out what he really meant to me.

  “You deserve better than Simon. You are a special kind of woman, and I want to be a part of your life.”

  “I know, Adam. I’ve enjoyed your company too.”

  Adam had one of the most vulnerable looks on his face, but I could not give in.

  “It’s getting late,” I said. The kerosene lamp’s flickering gave the room a sultry feel even in the heart of winter. Adam asked me to sit on the bed beside him. I did, but said I had to leave.

  “Don’t go,” he pleaded and then pulled me close and kissed me passionately on the lips. It felt good. I lay down beside him and faced the wall. He put his arms around my waist and pulled up close to me, his breath warming my neck. I wanted to scream “stop,” but couldn’t. I felt my body twitching and the warmth rushing all over me. Just his touch caused me to be weak. From behind me, I could feel the stiffness of his manhood. The sweat trickled down my face and the moisture dripped from my body. I wanted to love him. I loved the way he loved on me, how he started from my head and ended with my toes. He ran his fingers across my nipples and then down my side and inside my thighs. I wanted to let go—give in to him, and so did my body. When he began to part my thighs, I couldn’t think of anything but him. Nadine and Simon had been forgotten.

  • • •

  After going back to my room, it wasn’t long before my conversation with Simon reappeared in my mind.

  “You are my wife,” Simon had mumbled.

  “I know you’ve been sleeping with Nadine. I am not a fool.”

  “Nadine is not my wife.”

  “What is she then?”

  “She is nobody to me,” he’d said.

  Now, I thought to myself, Adam was more than a friend to me.

  Chapter 28

  The weekend Simon picked me up, John showed up at our house. He came with an interrogating grimace on his face, somewhat like the one he’d had the last time he paid us a visit. This time he was ready and it was evident by the look in his eyes. Simon and I were home. We had just finished a hearty breakfast of spiced sausage, eggs and biscuits.

  “You want something to eat?” I asked him.

  “Just coffee will be fine,” he said in a firm tone, as he took a seat at the kitchen table, and opened his briefcase.

  “What brings you here today?” I asked, serving him the coffee.

  He added a cube of sugar and stirred it, and then took a sip of it. “We need to talk.”

  “What’s on your mind?” I had wondered that when I’d opened the front door and saw him standing there with his briefcase in his hand.

  “I know who the killer is.”

  Simon and I didn’t react. We watched him swallow and place his cup onto the saucer. Neither of us commented.

  “Did you hear me?” he asked.

  “Yes, we heard you. Who is the killer?” I was afraid it was Simon since he did not move. He sat still with a serious stare in his eyes and listened without flinching.

  Finally, Simon said, “John, are you accusing us of killing Camm? If so, I’ve got some news for you.”

  John got up without waiting for me and poured another cup of coffee. He added sugar and cream to it and sat back down. “No. I’ve been talking to some folks all over Jefferson County. I have been to the joint and talked to every one of Camm’s associates.”

  “Why, John, is it so important to find who killed Camm? Why are you trying to do a job the sheriff can do all by himself? We are getting over him. I don’t want to keep talking about him. None of this is good.”

  He shifted himself and got up from the kitchen table. He walked over to the kitchen window and peered out of it. He was no longer the country John, wearing bib overalls. He was more city than ever. His shoes were shining and the cuffs of his pants were creased. He paused for a few seconds. “Because I want to free my family from it all. The people in Jefferson respect us; our papa was a fine man. It is my duty to put this murder to rest. The sheriff is a dumb boy. He is not smart enough to be in the job, but he’s a white boy and that’s all that matters in this country. I want to clear the Parker name and move on.”

  “The sheriff is not going to like you messing in his business.”

  He sat back down. “I did it for us, not the damn sheriff. We need our good name cleared. This man has left dirt in our path, and now it is time we clear it all up.”

  Simon was getting a bit concerned. He had studied John from top to bottom, as he always did when he was trying to figure out someone’s intentions. “So, John, what did you find out? Who killed the son-of-a-bitch?”

  “I’m not so sure he is dead,” I said.

  “He is dead all right. He is dead,” John stated.

  “Well, why is there a man walking around town looking just like him?”

  He didn’t flinch, didn’t show any emotion. He knew the fellow. “The man you’ve seen is his brother. Camm had a twin.”

  “What?” Simon and I both said at the same time.

  It explained the train trip and the man in front of the club. But, why did he all of a sudden show up? We were spending days and months on Camm’s murder, and what about poor Willie? Did anyone care about an upright man?

  “Herman’s brother has been around town looking for his brother’s killer. He and I teamed up in Jefferson over a month ago. We talked to a lot of cats and I ended up back at home, Carrie.”

  “What are you saying?”

  “Earl, one of Herman’s best friends went over the night again with me.”

  Simon pulled himself up high in the chair to give the conversation his full attention. I inhaled and waited.

  “The night Herman was killed, a lot of people were looking for him. Simon, you were there too. They said you seemed mad enough to kill anybody.”

  Simon folded his arms, his facial muscles flexing. “Listen, I don’t care what those people say.”

  “Wait, before you get bent out of shape, they saw you drive off. So nobody is concerned about you killing the man. I was just telling the story.”

  Simon didn’t say a word, only stared at John like he was the enemy.

  “It’s going to be all right,” I said to Simon, and tapped him on the arm. He gazed at me with soft eyes, and everyone seemed to relax.

  John even eased up. “Well, Earl said Camm had wronged a lot of people. He’d been seeing another woman.” Then he interjected, “Momma didn’t know about it at first.”

  “I don’t know why she didn’t; he was always away from home. He would leave sometimes and wouldn’t return until the next day. I can remember Momma opening the door in the early morning hours helping him to her bed.”

  “She really didn’t know,” John added. There are a lot of things we didn’t know about this man. We didn’t know about Ms. Pearl. Ms. Pearl had known him for years before he even knew Momma. In the meantime, he was causing problems for a lot of people. Still, no one had the right to take his life.”

  Simon’s eyes narrowed at the discussion of Herman Camm. It was obvious the mention of his name was irritating to him. I was not the only one wondering why his ghost was still around.

  “Can you just tell us who killed the dude?” he urged John.

  John cleared his throat, annoyed by Simon’s frustration. “I have narrowed it down to our family.”

  My eyes flew open, and I gasped in fear. “Let me ask you a question, Carrie,” he said, gazing at me in a fixed stare. I inhaled and
felt my heartbeat thumping under my clothes.

  Before I could say anything, Simon said, “She’s your sister, John; leave her alone.”

  “I’m not accusing her of anything,” he quickly shot back.

  “Carrie, did you see Carl the night Herman Camm was killed?”

  All of a sudden my memory began to fail me. “I don’t know. He was at home,” I said, not knowing if he was home or not. Since he did not go to joints and places like that, I was pretty sure he was home with Mary.

  “I asked the same question to Momma and the both of them started shaking uncontrollably.”

  “Did you know, Simon, that Camm had made a pass towards your sister?”

  “If he had, she would have said something to me.”

  John got up and moved around the circumference of the room. He peered at Simon. “Why would she tell you when she has a husband?”

  “Listen, John, I don’t know where you are getting this from, but who the hell is the murderer?”

  “Camm made advances to Mary and she told Carl the same day he was murdered. He had access to the house and to Momma’s rifle. He could have killed him and nobody would know.”

  I got angry. “Leave it alone, John. Let this rest.”

  “I want everybody in the family to know where my investigation ended. I don’t want Kindred, Camm’s brother, to know anything about this.”

  “You are the one talking to him.”

  “I had no choice. I led him in another direction because for some reason, I think he knows it was Carl.”

  Simon said, “Carl ain’t kill nobody.”

  “I hope not, but if he did, please don’t let Kindred know about it.”

  I bit my lip and shook my head because I knew about him making an advance on Mary, but I didn’t think Carl knew. I did know he would use the rifle behind Momma’s door often, especially when he was hunting rabbits.

  When John left, he told us to never talk about this again, especially to anyone outside of the immediate family. “What do you know about Herman’s brother?” Simon inquired.

  “I don’t know much about him, but as strange as it might seem, he is the spitting image of his brother; his height and weight are about the same. The only thing missing is the stench of liquor. He even walks and talks like him. They are identical in all ways. I’ve never seen twins with so many features alike.”

  Simon glanced over at me. Neither of us commented.

  John seemed to be distrusting of his own words. He didn’t stop with a comment about being identical, but added more to think about, “The only difference is that Kindred don’t go into joints like Herman. He is a saved man.”

  Chapter 29

  Ms. Pearl had taken up with Herman Camm’s brother. It was one of those things which had the folk in Jefferson whispering again. Momma wrote me about it, but I had seen her myself with him. People had seen them together at church in Jefferson and on the streets in Richmond. They were a couple. The sheriff told Ginny there was no way Pearl Brown could have committed the murder since she was spending time with the brother. Once again, the investigation was put off. Most people knew the sheriff was not smart enough to catch a killer. He had been friends with a man who killed his wife. He thought she had drunk the lye on her own. He finally realized he was wrong about the husband after someone else pointed it out to him. Who can stand to drink lye? Why was there so much concern about Herman, when Willie was murdered too? Everybody had figured out it was the white man, so no one mumbled a word about it.

  Simon and I ran into Adam Murphy at the nightclub in Jackson Heights. He was holding hands with a beautiful lady around his age. He saw me and walked over to me pulling the lady with him. Simon recognized them and a smirk came to his face.

  Adam hugged me. “It is so nice to see you.”

  “You too,” I responded.

  Simon reached out and shook his hand. Adam seemed a bit annoyed; immediately the smile on his face disappeared. After shaking Simon’s hand, he turned toward his date and they went hand in hand to a table in the middle of the room, not far from the one where we were sitting. The sight of him with another woman at first bothered me. Why? I couldn’t understand. Seeing him happy was something I’d wanted for him. Adam was a decent man, inspiring me in any endeavor I took on. It was important to have support when women’s rights were still being challenged. The Women’s Suffrage March had taken place less than ten years before, so anything positive for women leaving the house I counted as special.

  Ms. Pearl had been dazzling the crowd for weeks. A sellout crowd had been heightening the reputation of the club that had to live down a murder. At first, after it had happened, no one could pay patrons to stop by. No one wanted to be associated with a tarnished location. It was Willie who had lost his life to a white man’s bullet and nobody cared. Now, Ms. Pearl was back and many of Jackson Heights elite were all dressed up and in the club. Ms. Walker emerged after declaring months ago she would not step into the establishment again until the owner made a declaration that the club was violence free.

  It was cool outside, yet inside, it was starting to get hot. After sitting down, I panned the room. I peered in the direction of Adam and he was looking my way.

  Simon tapped me on the shoulder, “Are you all right?”

  “This is my first time coming to hear Ms. Pearl sing since Willie was murdered.”

  “You see the big men standing over in the corners. They are there to keep order. I helped find them,” Simon boasted.

  When I saw the two big men weighing over 250 pounds and standing at least six feet, four inches tall, all of the tension I’d built up inside began to soften. The thought of bullets flying around had many people wondering what might happen. Mrs. Hall even warned us to stay alert. “Y’all pay attention in a place like that and never sit with your back toward the entrance. You need to see who is coming and going.” I felt it was good information coming from her, since most of her life she had been under scrutiny. Then I wondered what she really knew about places like the club.

  Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed Nadine walking toward us. I wanted to get up and leave, but it was too late, “How y’all doing?” she said, twirling the curls in her hair like a little girl. She was wearing a light-blue dress with sequins on the bottom. It was the first time she appeared to be a lady.

  I didn’t say a word. “Carrie, I want to say I’m sorry for being over at your house.”

  Simon tried to interrupt her. “Now go on about your business, Nadine.”

  She sucked air in, and shook her head, then Nadine added, “You just don’t want me to tell Carrie about yo sneaking ass, Simon.” Afterward, she rolled her eyes.

  “We don’t want any trouble,” I said, and waited for her to finish.

  “I don’t want Simon,” she said and shot a cold eye at Simon. “We were just doing a little drinking and we lost control. I’m so glad you came home when you did. I’m so sorry,” she said with as much drama as a vaudeville actor.

  “Nadine, I’m trying to enjoy myself. I don’t want to think about that day.”

  She seemed surprised by my reaction. “I didn’t mean to cause no problems,” she explained.

  I saw the relief in Simon’s face when she turned and walked back to a table across the room which she shared with a woman and two men—one of them, Jessie.

  Everybody had come out for the event. It was Ms. Pearl’s debut of her own songs. She finally had written something of her own. Everybody in the neighborhood appeared to be there. The lady next door, the corner store merchant, and the ice cream shop owner. There were more people there than ever before. The bartender was busy setting up drinks of Scotch and tap beer.

  Simon got up and went to the bar for a Pepsi-Cola and peanuts. I looked around the room noticing many familiar faces from the community. The same lady who had made the comments to me earlier about Simon was sitting at the table with Nadine. It was then that I determined what they’d said about him had some truth. Now, he was attempti
ng to prove to me that I was still his only love. I loved my husband even though he held secrets I thought could destroy our family. I supposed now I had some too.

  “They say Ms. Pearl will be performing in a few minutes,” Simon said.

  “Where is she?”

  “The bartender says she is here somewhere. She’s probably in the back room.”

  “The back room…”

  “Yeah!” He pointed to a door at the back of the room. A man was standing outside, guarding it like a soldier. “There are a lot of people here to keep order tonight.”

  “They need them after what happened the last time all these people were in here.”

  I took a sip of my drink. I thought how interesting it was that the entire community was out to hear Ms. Pearl perform her own songs. Her music was gaining a lot of fame, especially in Richmond, and the surrounding counties. There were even a couple of recognizable faces from Jefferson County.

  Simon was rolled back in the chair with his arms around me, letting everybody know I was his wife. I saw Adam peering over at me, and when I decided to stare in his direction, he looked away.

  Ms. Pearl walked up to the stage. She had on a form-fitting, ocean-green dress and stacked high heel shoes. Her face was heavily decorated with cinnamon powder and eyeliner. Her beautiful eyes seemed to sparkle. The crowd was clapping so hard, all other sounds were muted.

  When she started to sing, the noise diminished. She had captivated the audience.

  She bellowed out sounds accompanied by a pianist, a drummer, and a horn player. She was wailing her lungs out. Simon was feeling a groove and gazing at me. Everybody was enjoying her to the fullest. She appeared to be singing to somebody, but I couldn’t tell who it was. After a while, I got up and excused myself to the bathroom in the back.

  “You gonna be all right?” Simon asked me.

  “I’ll be okay. You can see the bathroom from here.”