“Ain’t been cracked yet,” she said proudly. “My daddy’s the pastor here. How would I look if word got back that his only daughter’s been getting cracked all over town. Uh-uh, can’t have my name sullied nor his.” When Delbert thought he understood what she was hinting at, he opened his mouth but nothing came out. “What’s with the silent treatment?” Sue inquired, honestly wanting to know. “Not all nurses are willing to raise their skirts for bright-eyed interns, not even for cute ones.”
“So you like the looks of things, do you?” Delbert said, fishing for additional compliments.
“Oh, you thought I was talking about you,” she chuckled. “Hmmm.” As Delbert’s smile floundered, Sue propped it up again. “Don’t worry, I was. Just showing off my other side which I’m not allowed to do at work. I saw you weep for that baby and it moved me. Showed me you really cared.”
“Well now, I can bust a fountain right here if I need to,” he jested, showing that he too possessed another side worth noting.
“Huh, that won’t be necessary. However you can walk me home if you’d like.”
“I’d love to,” he answered without lending any thought to local geography. “Wait a minute. That depends on how far you live from here.” It didn’t matter if Sue’s house was on the moon, Delbert was up for making that trip.
16
HEATHENS AND HOUSEWIVES
Spring was in bloom and signs that life had reinvented itself were obvious everywhere. Birds chirped, butterflies soared, couples paraded while holding hands, and ladies with wide-brimmed multi-colored hats spilled out of the churches by the dozens. Penny took it all in gleefully as she and Etta leisurely strolled down the sidewalk, adorned in fashionable pastel dresses, watching busybodies gossiping about various other members of the congregation. As they waded through those milling about, Etta sighed when one of the ladies looked at her and sneered with a heavy dose of contempt. Penny noticed and found it peculiar, but she didn’t want to inquire until they had rounded the corner. “Ooh Ms. Etta, I saw that lady back there look down her nose at you. Do you know her?”
“I used to, chile,” she answered calmly, with a subdued expression like something from the past was still pinned to it. “Yeah, I was a faithful member of Antioch Baptist, attended every Sunday too. Good preaching and caring families. But then, two things got in the way—righteous sisters and their ugly ways.”
“I thought church going folks were different,” Penny said, furrowing her brow.
“Different from who?”
“Don’t know, just different I guess. I figured maybe they’s filled with goodness and some Holy Ghosts or something. I mean, all that singing and bible thumping should add up to a heap of goodness.”
Penny’s naïve perspective brought an enchanted smile to Etta’s face. “That’s only on the one hand. On the other, there’s people like that old cow who just mooed at me. Those are the ones who can’t wait until the church service is over so they can bust down the doors and commence to badmouthing somebody.” Etta thought about it before sharing a real life lesson with her young impressionable friend. Before she could stop herself, the truth started seeping out of her mouth like a broken faucet. “Most women don’t see things like I do, and I don’t mind it much, but I won’t be judged by their tight-eyed-squinting, finger-pointing and narrow-minded ideas of how I should run my life. So, I don’t go around them to spark the flames and they’re smart enough not to set foot around me. That way, we all get along just fine and dandy.”
“Seems like all that soul stirring gets people worked up something fierce,” Penny concluded, with a toothy grin. “Don’t you miss the singing and bible thumping any, Ms. Etta? I mean, since they run you off?”
Etta cut her eyes at Penny, shocked that she’d put two and two together and actually came up with four. “Hush your mouth, girl. Don’t get cute,” she hissed jokingly. “Truth be told, I miss every smidge of it more than I’d dare let those heffas know.”
“Hey, isn’t that the doctor from Texas?” Penny asked, spotting Delbert and Sue on the other side of the street. Just that quickly, she’d moved on to something else but Etta was still stuck on having been chased from the church, when she’d never considered it happening that way before. “Yeah, it is him,” Penny whispered. “Hey, Delbert,” she yelled, across the avenue.
“Penny, don’t be hollering out like that,” Etta complained, to stifle her. “Especially when you see a man with another woman.”
“What’s wrong with speaking to him? He’s in the Fast House enough and a nice fella at that.” Penny frowned sharply, showing her age and lack of maturity. “Shoot, I didn’t mean nothing by it. Just speaking was all.”
“It’s okay, honey, there’s some things a lady just doesn’t do. Going out of her way to speak to a man with a woman on his arm is one of them. There are others, of course, and we’ll cover them eventually.” Etta doted on the young woman like a mother introducing worldly boundaries to her daughter.
Penny lowered her head, brooding, as they neared Watkins Emporium. “I know they’s lots of things I need to learn and I want to know all of them, too. You’re the closest thing I ever had to a mama, Ms. Etta. And, it’s just that I’m hoping you don’t quit on me like she did.”
“You don’t have to waste any hope on that, Penny. Nothing can turn me away from you. That’s a promise.” Etta’s eyes began to mist when she saw Penny’s tears. She opened her purse and fished around inside it for a handkerchief but couldn’t come up with one. “Oomph, we need to step into Watkins before people see us blubbering out here like a couple of dizzy dames.”
Inside the dry goods store, Chozelle was listening intently with her ear against the office door, while her father discussed a business proposition with Ollie and M.K. She was startled when Etta eased up on the outer side of the counter.
“Chozelle!” Etta called out.
“Ooh, Ms. Etta, you—you scared me,” she stammered. “It ain’t polite to go sneaking up on a person like that.”
“I’ve called you three times to see about your selection of kerchiefs but you didn’t answer. And, you probably shouldn’t be listening in on your daddy’s affairs. I’m sure if he wanted you in there, you’d have been invited.”
“Well, normally I don’t care what goes on in the office, but there happens to be two of those handsome young and single doctors on the other side of that door,” she said, as if that made a world of difference. “I’m marrying age and don’t plan on sticking here all of my life. I’ve got dreams to catch, Ms. Etta.”
“Dreams, huh? Show me your latest selection and we’ll talk about some of them,” Etta offered, well aware that Chozelle’s mother died of pneumonia several years ago. “And try to mind your mouth with Penny,” Etta said, behind a stern expression that insinuated it was more than a mere suggestion. “She’s gone through a lot with Halstead dying in the fire and all.”
“I didn’t know you brung your shadow along today, but O.K., I’ll step back. I did hear tell something about Halstead passing on. I didn’t think much of him, but it’s a terrible thing just the same,” said Chozelle, nodding agreeably. She slid a small box down from the second shelf. “Huh, you’re all the poor girl’s got now. It’s like my papa always says, life can turn on a dime. A month ago, Penny didn’t even have you.”
“And I thought you had Jinx,” Etta retorted, as a way to get her nose out of Penny’s business, where it didn’t belong. “Why are you pausing for other fellas when I hear he’s partial to you?”
“Jinxy ain’t nothing but a boy, Ms. Etta, a boring boy at that. I needs a man to handle me, a real man with plans, and big ones.”
“Not that you asked, but maybe he’d be better at being a man if a certain somebody I know was treating him like he was one. Chozelle, I know Jinx is in love with playing that child’s game, but baseball does that to some of them. Trust me, I know.”
The younger woman flipped through sheets of linen with Etta, as Penny busied herself sampling a
variety of hard candy from gallon-sized storage jars. “I don’t want you to think bad of me, but Jinx was fun when the ball team still played together. Now he’s a gardener-something or ’nother. What would I look like attached to somebody like that? Without baseball, he’s not worth taking into account otherwise. I deserve more, a lot more.”
Etta pulled five of the most expensive handkerchiefs from the box to purchase before she gave Chozelle a parcel of priceless advice for free. “Listen closely and then you can throw it away if you can’t use what I’m about to tell you. A man’s got to know his woman believes in him, whether he’s catching his own dreams at the time or not. Having a woman believe in a man makes him wanna try real hard so’s he don’t let her down, not just in a child’s game but also in life. Now, I’m not preaching because I like to live and let live the way people choose to. Throw it away or keep it, don’t matter to me. Just a life lesson is all. How much I owe you for these?”
“And this?” Penny squealed, shoving a jug stocked full of peppermints in Chozelle’s face.
“Ms. Etta!” Chozelle huffed loudly.
“Chozelle, remember what we said about stepping back?”
“Yes, ma’am,” she answered, her lips pursed and pointed at Penny. “I remember, but I don’t have to like it.”
The office door opened. Mr. Watkins stepped out with M.K. and Ollie bringing up the rear. “Son, it sounds like a grand idea but I’ll have to thinks about the proposal some more. Renting a county fair booth on a whim ain’t nothing to sneer at,” the store owner said, stroking his cheek. “You say I stand to get over real good by being the sponsor of this here contest?”
M.K. nudged Ollie when the older man sunk his teeth into the idea. M.K. grinned harder than he had all day just thinking about it. “Twins proved to be a winning hand, times two. Yes, suh, we got over real good in Birmingham.”
Later that evening, Baltimore was wrapping up dinner with Dinah at a fancy restaurant near downtown. Throughout the meal, she could tell something was eating at him because he barely touched the ten-ounce steak on his plate. “It’s not like you to waste anything,” Dinah said cordially. Her face softened as she gazed at him from across the table at Rudolph’s, the most exclusive steak and chop house in St. Louis that allowed colored folk to dine in. “She must really be something.”
“She?” Baltimore repeated, as if Dinah was far off base. In fact, she’d hit it right on the head but he wouldn’t admit to it. “Now why would you think a woman is behind my loss of appetite? You’re the only one in my bed.”
“But am I the only one in your head?” she replied quickly, as her jealousy mounted. When Baltimore made a failed attempt at dismissing her question, Dinah pulled out a small gold plated cosmetic compact and checked her teeth. “And don’t act like the bed’s the only thing that matters. I’ve been on the other side, baby, the other side saying, he might be her man but I’m on his mind. I know that’s just as good as being on a man’s lap. The one thing standing between the two is a simple matter of time.”
Baltimore smiled, ran an index finger down his thin mustache and then asked the waiter for the check. “Sweetheart, it’s not what you think. Really, you’s the meat and anything else is gravy.”
“That may be,” she scoffed, looking at the cold chunk of beef in front of him, virtually untouched. “But lately you ain’t been in no mood for steak. So tell me, is she brown or white gravy?” Dinah didn’t put it past Baltimore or any other colored man to tip across the race line. She’d done it herself on occasion when the situation paid handsomely and she wasn’t deluding herself into thinking that he was beyond doing the same. Baltimore was a hustler, well-versed on what it took to survive, although this go-around he was looking way past surviving. White gravy may as well have been on his lap because it certainly was on his mind while time separated the two.
Dinah didn’t protest too much when Baltimore declined to escort her inside the apartment building she lived in off South Delmar. Knowing that a woman could hardly stop a man from making a fool of himself, she didn’t bother wasting the effort.
“I’ve got a few corners to turn, then I’ll head on back this way,” Baltimore suggested as she stepped onto the curb.
“No, that won’t come close to getting it. I ain’t no consolation prize,” was her cool answer to his lukewarm offer. Baltimore drove away without debating the point, leaving Dinah narrow-eyed and annoyed. She couldn’t stand white gravy.
After driving fifteen minutes, Baltimore realized Dinah knew him better than he thought. Sure, it could have been just about anything bothering him during dinner, but she didn’t see money troubles being the culprit. So it had to be a female. Since Dinah had an extremely high opinion of herself, she figured there would have been no reason for him to be pondering over another colored woman. But it was like Baltimore told her, this was-n’t about his bed. Well, not entirely.
In an area of town called “The Bloody Southern” where the crime rate soared and police steered clear, Baltimore was told he could find the long time pimping, drug-pushing, colored gangster who owed him a debt. Almost two years had passed since they’d done business and the marker was still outstanding. One way or another, Baltimore was dead set on settling it tonight.
The fortress-sized red-bricked house off Piedmont Road matched the address which was handwritten on the napkin in Baltimore’s front left pocket. He parked his car in the crescent-shaped driveway and got out. If the gangster was up to his old tricks, Baltimore would be able to tell right off. If not, paying up with his life wasn’t out of the question. It didn’t make any difference to Baltimore. He’d saved the man’s neck before and agreed with the law of the streets, where it was all right to take whatever he possessed, including his life, because it was only borrowed time when you got right down to it.
“I’m here to see the Fat Man,” Baltimore told the butler straight out, with his jacket opened, when the man answered the door. “Who may I tell Mr. B. is calling?” asked the ancient butler, visibly indifferent to the visitor’s sharp appearance and insistent tone.
“Tell the Fat Man his old pal Baltimore said to get his wide ass out here and be quick about it,” he answered the tuxedo-wearing flunky.
The butler flinched then, fearing he’d opened the gate and let the devil in. “I’ll-I’ll speak with the fat man ... uh, Mr. B. Please excuse me, sir.” Baltimore didn’t say another word. Immediately, the man servant made himself scarce and then disappeared behind an expensive hanging tapestry in the front foyer.
“This is how rich folks do it, I guess,” Baltimore said to himself while admiring the light-colored marble floors and pricey furnishings. The fat man’s taste had improved since they last met. Standing there too long to suit him, Baltimore wondered what other aspects about the pusher had changed for the better. Suddenly he heard several sets of footsteps headed his way. Baltimore turned, and saw the host flanked by a group of men. He didn’t like the addition of bodyguards in the least, because one of them was bound to get cocky and show off for the others.
“Shookie Bush,” Baltimore howled, like he was announcing the man’s entrance instead of greeting him. “It’s sure been a long time.” One quick head count told him he’d have to shoot first in order to make it out alive, if it came to that.
Shookie was a resident thug and the self-proclaimed King of “The Ville.” His nostrils flared as he stood there in a tent-sized silk house robe. “Baltimo’, it has been a month of Sundays since I laid eyes on you, but I figured someday you’d be back to collect on that debt, so let’s get it over and done with,” he stated flatly. “Then you can get the hell out of my house!”
“I hadn’t planned on trouble, Shookie, but if you want to act like these fools can stop me from hurting you, make a move,” he grunted, aggravation swelling in his throat. And, just like he suspected, one of the bodyguards went for a long barreled pistol tucked in a waistband. Before he had the chance to slide it out, Baltimore shot him twice in the chest and then marche
d toward Shookie with both of his charmers poised to close the deal.
The obese criminal rocked back on his heels and threw his meaty paws into the air. There was no reason to act like he wasn’t scared to death, so he didn’t. “Stop!” Shookie warned the men, who were still breathing. “Don’t do nothing stupid! He’ll burn me down, right here. I swear it!” His bald head was dripping in sweat now and his heart was pounding inside that barrel chest of his. The brash demeanor he appeared with had abandoned him. “Don’t nobody else need to go getting killed, Baltimo’,” he pleaded.
“Didn’t nobody have to before either, but you come up in my face with men to draw down on me,” Baltimore barked. “I oughta shoot you for that alone.” Initially the hired guns refused to lower their weapons until Baltimore shoved one gun barrel against the fat man’s nose and the other pointed directly at his crotch.
“Put those rods down!” Shookie wailed loudly. “Can’t y’all see we’re among friends? Friends don’t go around capping each other. That wouldn’t be friendly, now would it?” The henchmen were confused over how to respond but eventually they did as they were told. “That’s more like it. Yeah, that’s ideal.” Shookie lowered his hands, looking for Baltimore to do likewise. “Mr. Floyd, welcome to my humble palace. I see you done made yourself to home. Just tell me what I can do for you, just name it?”
Although he didn’t release his aim on the mountainous gangster, Baltimore felt more relaxed. “Yeah, that does sound ideal. All I need are some answers and we’re four corners square.”
“Okay, I have lot of answers. Hell, I got answers flying out of my ass. How many of them you want?”
“Two good ones,” he said, knowing full well what he needed before knocking at the door. “Who’s the police go-between running heroin up from Chicago and where can I find him tonight?”
“Barker Sinclair’s the man you want and it being nightfall, he’s liable to be at the Red Lantern but I can give you his home address if he ain’t.” When Baltimore studied Shookie’s eyes suspiciously, he bucked them. “What you looking at me like that for? If I’d knowed that’s all you wanted, you could’ve called me over the telephone for it.”
Ms. Etta's Fast House Page 14