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Ms. Etta's Fast House

Page 24

by McGlothin, Victor


  Baltimore had taken a liking to Husky, too slow for his age and too big for his small IQ. His dark complexion was dusky and dry. His hair was matted on his round head and looked as if it never once had a comb pulled through it. It was hard and bristly but the man’s heart was soft as butter, something Baltimore believed was set aside for women, children and fools. Husky barely qualified by the skin of his severely bucked teeth.

  “Tell me another one Baltimo’,” Husky begged after he’d heard his new acquaintance spin the third parable of the day. “I like the way you tell them bible stories.” As he bit on a chocolate cupcake one tiny morsel at a time, like a last meal, his eyes impatiently anticipated another tale.

  “All right, Husky, I’ll tell you one that I heard as a lil’ chip on my papa’s knee. Well, it seems some time ago that this king they called Herod ruled over the land. Everyone was getting along just fine until some pretty smart fellas called wise men showed up at his castle looking for the place where the King of the Jews, a baby, was to be born.”

  “Why was they looking for the baby?” Husky asked naively, with crumbs wedged in the corners of his mouth.

  “The ruler wanted to kill him ’cause he was afraid the boy would take his kingdom and put him out in the cold. Nah, old Herod wasn’t about to let that happen, so he went out and got some fancy thinkers to figure out where he could get the boy.” Baltimore grinned when he saw Husky’s starry eyes shining brightly as he nibbled cake continually. “Yeah, he tried to work the wise men in his favor but they had a dream, warning them that the old king was up to no good.”

  “I’ll say he wuddin, old rascal,” Husky agreed, with a frown exhibiting his distaste for the story’s antagonist. “So did he get at that po’ baby?”

  “Uh-uh, but he did something terribly, terribly bad instead. When he couldn’t find the baby boy, with his mama and papa, the king got mad. He then did a thing so rotten I don’t even want to tell you about it.”

  “Please, Baltimo’, I gots to know now,” he whined. “Come on, pleeease?”

  “Okay, but you asked for it,” Baltimore reminded him, just as he used to when reading bedtime stories to his younger sister. She would pull on his arm, pleading in the same way Husky did. And so he finished the tale like he always had. “Seeing as how King Herod couldn’t locate the boy after a while passed, he sent a whole batch of his killers to the place where the wise men had gone to meet up with him.”

  “Did the batch of scoundrels catch up with that lil’ lamb?” he asked, wishing they hadn’t.

  “Not to speak of, but that’s where the story takes a dive. Since they didn’t come up with him after searching pole to pole, they got orders to kill all of the boys in town and nearby towns too, all younger than the age of two, guessing that’s how old the child had to be then. He couldn’t seem to get at the boy he wanted, so’s he killed every other one hoping that’d do the trick.” When Baltimore noticed it had grown quiet in the clinic, he raised his head off the pillow and glanced over at Husky. The big fellow was holding himself and rocking back and forth in a disturbing manner. The tears, which watered his face, made Baltimore sorry for picking that particular bible tale.

  “You was right, Baltimo’, I didn’t wanna know about all them dead chil’rens,” he wept, while slinking under the covers and pulling them up to his neck like a frightened child after hearing a ghoulish yarn. “That wuddin’ fair, not a bit,” he groaned.

  “Life is like that, Husky,” Baltimore said, reflecting on the many crimes he’d committed in the past and escapes pulled off by a hair. “Yeah, it just don’t make a damned lick of sense,” he added, when it occurred to him how he had been falsely accused and imprisoned.

  “I don’t wanna hear nuthin’ else about it. Nuthin’,” the blubbering man complained.

  “Husky, listen to me, it’s a sad tale, but I think it might make you feel a lot better knowing that the lil’ lamb that got away was none other than baby Jesus.”

  “Oh, Lawd have mercy for that,” he whimpered, with hints of happiness in his eyes. “His papa spared him, and took the udders in his place?”

  “That’s right, Husky, that’s right. And that baby boy grew up. He’s been returning the favor on us every since,” Baltimore explained. “It’s a hard pill to swallow, I know, and I aim to ask the Lord if all that was necessary if I ever make it to heaven.”

  Husky shuddered softly beneath the sheets until a question came to him he wouldn’t let pass without asking. “Baltimo’, whut if you don’t make it up there to see Him?”

  “Then you can ask Him for me, Husky. I’d like that,” Baltimore answered as kindly as he could, imagining that’s how it was likely to play out.

  “It’s good to see that you’re a spiritual man,” Albert Hummel remarked as he approached Baltimore’s cot. “It doesn’t mean much in the courtroom unless you can get a believer on the witness stand.”

  “Hi ya, lawyer man,” Baltimore greeted him amicably. “I ain’t been much on believing lately, especially when paddling upstream don’t seem to be getting any easier. My pappy is a fire and brimstone preacher, but he can’t stand the sight of me. Huh, it’d strike his fancy to know I ended up like this. He always said I was living in a fool’s paradise. Up ’til now, I’d have sworn he was wrong.”

  Albert pulled a metal folding chair to the bedside and shook his client’s hand. “You’re getting along much better than the last time I saw you. And after what I’m going to lay on you, you’ll feel even better yet.” The lawyer opened his brown leather satchel and reached inside. “Every now and then a miracle falls from the sky. Here’s one for the books if I do say so myself.” Albert grinned and cleared his throat. He handed the deposition toward Baltimore before a renegade thought occurred to him. “I’m sorry, Mr. Floyd, I didn’t think to ask. Can you read?”

  “How are you gone fix your mouth to insult me while reaching your hands in my pocket? Sure, I can read and write. On a good day, I can decipher Latin,” Baltimore quipped. He snatched the papers from his attorney and sneered at him as long as he could before laughing so hard he nearly ripped his stitches. “Don’t go getting bent out of shape, Albert. I’s just funning with you. Us colored boys keep a sense of humor handy. It pays to, nowadays.”

  “Well, I’m glad you didn’t take offense,” Albert remarked, with an extreme sigh of relief.

  “Oh, you don’t get off that easy. I’m offended plenty but you don’t know no better so I won’t hold your ignorance against you. Let’s take a look at this and see if it was worth leaving your cushy office to show me.”

  Not quite sure how to respond, Albert cleared his throat again and leaned in, lowering the pitch of his voice for the sake of confidentiality. “As you can see, this is a bomb we can drop on the prosecution’s case. It proves that you and Dixie Sinclair had been involved in a consensual affair. The fact that she was in your room only strengthens this deposition.” The trace of a smile he’d worn quickly faded when Baltimore’s hand clinched into a fist. “What’s wrong? Is there a problem?”

  “Yeah, I’ve got a big one,” Baltimore responded, in a manner puzzling to his legal advisor. “I didn’t have no idea Penny was looking in my window or I’d have been more secretive.”

  “Well, it’s a good thing you were not as discreet as you thought. It’s like I said, some times a miracle falls when you least expect it.”

  “You’re gonna have to cancel that miracle, Mr. Hummel,” Baltimore demanded, using a formal tone. “I can’t let that child climb up into the witness chair, in front of all those people and testify. They’ll hit her with all the hate they’ve been saving up for me. She’s too good to be ruined on account of my mischief. I’d just as soon hang first. Anyway, Dinah Leonard’s the one you want. She can vouch that I didn’t have to take nothing off the white lady.” Baltimore was still bothered that Dixie had neglected to fess up to their torrid affair.

  “Mr. Floyd, I’ve met Penny and I agree, she’s a doll, but you may very well be faced wit
h the most extreme penalty if we lose this case. Now, hear me out before you make up your mind. The D.A. is going full speed on this. At nine o’clock this morning he dropped the charges against that colored police cadet who shot his wife and that young doctor at Etta Adams’s night club so he can concentrate on railroading you.”

  Baltimore was astonished. His stomach churned as he replayed the deadly scene in his mind. “I was there, man. I seen Willie B. Bernard do it in cold blood. You’re telling me they just opened up the gate and let him go free?”

  “The travesties don’t stop there. So far we haven’t been able to find Ms. Leonard, and the district attorney is petitioning for the trial to start in ten days.”

  Baltimore’s eyes displayed with inconsolable surprise. “Why’d they get in such a hurry? It’s not like I’m going nowhere.”

  “They’re afraid if it doesn’t get under way soon, there’ll be retaliation from the locals. My office is swarmed with death threats from the Ku Klux Klan for representing you. What Penny saw could save your life, Mr. Floyd. I’m not certain that anything else will. Can you give it some thought before turning it down?” Albert’s question stayed unanswered so long he couldn’t be sure Baltimore heard it. “Mr. Floyd?”

  “I heard you just fine. But, I got to draw a line in the sand,” he replied eventually. “I know you’re risking a lot helping me and I’m grateful. It might be a heap better for everybody if I throw the case and let them string me up.” Baltimore didn’t mean it, but he reasoned Penny’s life was more valuable than his own.

  “Unless miracles come in pairs, that line in the sand of yours could very well put you in the death house. Being a man of principle is one thing, but this is loony!” Albert bellowed louder than he meant to.

  “Now I know I’m in the right place,” a man’s deep voice sounded from the door of the small room. Henry, dressed in his daily uniform, strolled in. “Baltimo’ Floyd swearing off somebody’s help because he’s too pigheaded to accept a hand up. If that don’t beat all.”

  Baltimore felt a sudden chill roll over him when he heard Henry’s voice. He propped another pillow behind his back and peered toward the gentle oaf in the next cot. “Husky, remind me to tell you the one about the prodigal son. It’s got these two brothers in it, who parted ways over money, fast times and overripe envy. It’s a doozie.” Husky nodded slowly, closed his sad eyes and then drifted off to sleep.

  “I can see you need some time to work out matters,” Albert said, as he stood from his chair. Baltimore returned the deposition and he stuffed it back in his fancy satchel. “I’ll stop by in a few days. We’ll keep looking for that missing witness.” He glared suspiciously at Henry in his brand spanking new uniform, wondering why his client was taking meetings with the local police. It didn’t add up, so he made a mental note to inquire about it with Etta later.

  Curiosity had spun its shameless web on Henry. He had to stop in and see for himself. A man unjustly accused was as rare as a two-headed snake. Henry was positive of Baltimore’s innocence because he’d been a close friend, through thick and thin, and never once knew him to force his desires on any woman. He didn’t have it in him, to be that kind of man, under any circumstances. Of all the fights, shoot outs, and tough spots Baltimore landed in, it was inconceivable for Henry to think of him as anything less than unflappable. “They finally caught you dead to rights?” Henry said lightly, not ready to believe his eyes.

  “Yeah, they caught me with my pants on backwards all right but they got it all wrong.”

  “At least they got to you while you was still in them or else they’d have killed you on the spot.” Henry tried to make sense of Baltimore’s actions but his history of unpredictability made that impossible. “You just had to go and give it to Barker’s wife of all people? I’ve seen him put in some pretty rough work and he ain’t no slouch.”

  “I’ve seen his wife put out and neither is she. Couldn’t deny that even if I had a mind to. Hell, I done heard white boys singing about being way down south in Dixie since I was a pup, I saw my chance to see what all the fuss was about and I took it,” he joked. “And I have to say, screwing with Dixie was worth it.”

  “Don’t play yourself stupid, Baltimo,’ or the last laugh will snap your neck,” Henry warned. “You done stirred up a mess of hornets by shaking that big ole thang of yours at the queen bee’s nest.”

  “Man, you don’t know the half of it. Come busting up in here like you’re bringing me the news. It was me, fighting and scuffling against two farm boys who tried to split my scalp. Dixie Sinclair played me like a flute in more ways than one. I thought she was a pushover, but I had her pegged all wrong. She picked me out from the start and flipped on her man the first chance she got. I’m the one who took his boatload of smack and she’s the one who lead me to it.”

  “I ain’t ever known you to be a liar, Baltimo,’ but that can’t be close to the truth. Why would that lady help you con Barker and then hand over that much money to some ...”

  Baltimore sat up on his bed. “Go on and say what you think of me—some niggah! Yeah, because she’s a white girl you think she’s above rummaging in the sack with me and cutting a hole in Barker’s pockets while she was at it? It was never that hard for a woman to put one over on you. Tell me something, did the Metro Police make you buy those slave catching clothes?” Baltimore asked, with a terribly disheartening stare. “You’s mighty high hat for a gullible field hand, buck.” Henry stared at Baltimore in disbelief before he could reply.

  “That’s kinda funny coming from a man who’s got to ask if he can take a piss,” Henry replied bluntly.

  “I don’t need you to tell me what the hell I can and can’t do. I’ve made it this far by my damned self, no thanks to you. Ain’t there some stray dogs roaming the streets that need picking up?”

  “You still too full of yourself to see what’s standing in front of you,” Henry said, sneering at Baltimore’s current status. “They got your stubborn ass locked up, ready for tar and feathers, and you got the nerve to look down your nose at me. Maybe that ditch those boys knocked in your head leaked out some of the starch that’s put you in this hole in the first place.”

  Baltimore’s face darkened with resentment, in a way that startled his visitor. “What you doing here then, Henry Taylor? Since it’s plain to see you’s with them from scoot to skip. Matter of fact, why’ont you shove off before I bust a stitch putting my foot square up the back of that monkey suit. Go on and get out, slave catcher. This is one niggah you’s too late to snatch!” Henry choked on the words knotting up the back of his throat. Instead of retaliating with damaging rips at Baltimore’s ego, he frowned pitifully and walked away.

  “That’s right, get on back across the water before your rowboat pop a cork. You ain’t the man I used to know and you ain’t my friend no more. You done forgot, Henry Taylor!” he yelled hysterically as his unwelcome visitor exited the cell block. “Shame on you, Henry Taylor, you done forgot!” Baltimore felt the tear in his heart being pulled further apart. Too mad to give it any reasonable deliberation, Baltimore cursed up a mighty storm and then vowed to get even with Henry in hell unless he had the chance to settle up sooner. Henry hadn’t forgotten how they were once two of a kind, he just didn’t want to remember.

  29

  CASKETS AND CHARADES

  For three days, a quiet trance held the staff of Homer G. Philips Hospital hostage. In the business of saving lives, dealing with death was inevitable, but the recent murders of M.K. and Helen loomed heavily over the doctors and nurses who knew them best. Dr. Hiram Knight took it easy on the residents and made it a point to speak to each nurse he passed in the halls. Geraldine Robinson, the nursing director, asked to take a leave of absence after she first received the bad news. It was a difficult matter having to sedate the hospital’s tough-as-iron matriarch. She’d been the strong shoulder to lean on for so many people over the years. Seeing her toppled from the grief of two senseless killings left an indelible stain.r />
  Delbert wrote his father for the first time since arriving to St. Louis. Although the words didn’t come easy, he relayed his thanks for the sacrifices made. He shared how his matriculation and ability to keep pace with his contemporaries were both fairing well. While writing the next passage, Delbert broke down and cried when he attempted to explain what happened to one of the residents who had taken him under his wing. Becoming a skilled surgeon, playing God with patient’s lives, and handling the pressures of life were all interrelated, he’d discovered. If any of the three faltered, the others came crashing down as a result. One saving grace, which Delbert held close to his heart, was the love that blossomed with the skilled nurse he couldn’t stop thinking about, Sue Jacobs, the pastor’s daughter.

  Aware of Delbert’s struggles and his suffering over his lost friend, Sue worked at consoling him with kind words and warm embraces as the funeral service for Helen drew near. M.K.’s remains were flown out of town the day before and Delbert was on hand at the air strip to say his goodbyes. Moving past it seemed impossible until a peculiar occurrence changed that.

  In the rear seat of Pastor Jacobs’s long black Buick, Sue held Delbert’s hand tightly, as if she had no intentions of ever letting go. Her father observed them from the rearview mirror on the way to the cemetery. He wasn’t keen on his daughter playing nursemaid to any man, other than him, but he didn’t utter a single word. Burials, births, and blushing brides were about letting go, so it was clear to him that he needed to loosen the reins holding Sue close to home. She was a grown woman, despite how much he despised viewing her that way. Besides, if they traveled the blessed aisle, the pastor wouldn’t be losing a daughter, he’d be gaining a doctor, and that wasn’t a bad deal any which way he cut it.

  At two o’clock, the Buick eased inside the cemetery gates and passed the funeral procession which stretched out for two city blocks. It seemed that every friend and acquaintance Helen had made in her lifetime turned up at her service as well as countless others who felt sorry for the likable nurse they’d read about in the Comet. The event had culminated as a veritable who’s who see-and-be-seen. Local celebrities arrived in droves. Singers, wealthy entrepreneurs and hospital employees were given the VIP seats up front. Etta and Penny were among those shown to the middle rows. Henry, Roberta, Smiley, and the other colored policemen were offered sitting accommodations farther back. Because Sue’s father was the presiding minister, his car was allowed to roll past the long line of vehicles ahead of him.

 

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