“Perhaps you’re right,” she agreed wholeheartedly. “I know you been down to the jail to see about Baltimore,” Etta said nervously, her voice soft and unsteady.
“Soon as I stepped in, he went off on me like I was the one who put him away all broken up and bandaged. He didn’t give me the respect you’d give a dog. Even fixed his mouth to call me a dog catcher and worse,” he confided scornfully.
Having had her share of bouts with Henry as of late, Etta gulped her remorse. “I’m sure you saw how Baltimore ain’t at his best, so I’m asking you not to be sore at him. He’s fighting back the only way a man in his position knows how. He’s biting everything close to him. Especially those he loves and don’t want to see getting hurt because of something he done.”
After hearing her speak about Baltimore, it was his turn to be honest. “Jo Etta, despite what kind of fool he thinks I am for wanting something better for myself than what I had traveling around on a lark, I ain’t sore at him. I feel sorry for him.”
“Don’t do that,” she objected passionately, as Penny had at the attorney’s office when she made the same error in judgment. “He can’t use no pity, not from any of us who know him better than to think he could ever be guilty of what they said. Your mind appears to be made. Maybe if I’d had more practice putting my thoughts together, I’d be able to change it. But—”
“Now don’t you go doing that,” he reprimanded her sharply. “Baltimo’ was like a brother. Him and me were two of a kind ... once. There was a time I would have followed him to the ends of the earth and back again, and all he had to do was ask. The scrapes we staggered up against and walked away clean from would have been the end of most men, white or colored,” he reminisced fondly. “It seems that you and him are picking up where you and me left off. Don’t try to deny it,” Henry warned when Etta opened her mouth to refute his claims about falling for Baltimore. “You wasn’t ever any good at it.”
“I’m sorry.”
“For that I should get sore, but I won’t,” he mused. “I got what I needed in Roberta. Maybe you can be to Baltimo’ what he’s been missing but didn’t know it. You and him, is all that’s left of my past, like clothes that don’t fit no more, but you still hate to give them up because they used to make you feel so good about having them.”
“I never heard it put that way, Henry. I reckon me and Baltimore quit being your size about the same time you realized you had a lot more growing to do.” Etta was glad to see that Henry had matured beyond her expectations. He was a strong man, and a good one, just not the man she recognized from her memory. That fellow was dead and buried.
After listening in, Roberta had no reason to believe Etta wanted him back. The Henry Taylor who once lived to hold her against his heart was gone. And, in the blink of an eye, so was Etta.
Henry pulled a chair out on the front porch and took a seat. He was staring up at the stars trying to shake Etta and the space she’d previously occupied in his mind when Roberta brought out two cold bottles of beer. Henry reached out for them with a warm thankful smile. “Don’t go getting too happy,” she said, handing only one of the beers over to him. “This one’s for me.”
“Since when do you take in the devil’s elixir?” he teased, using the term she had on several occasions.
“‘Guess I deserve to twist the cap off at least one vice, seeing as how you’re getting picked at from both sides and in the middle.” She scooted her chair next to Henry’s and then tipped her bottle back as she drank some beer. “Oomph, it still tastes like Tennessee slop jar water. I’d hoped it changed since my days of knocking back a few at the teacher’s college.”
“What you know about that?” Henry asked, delighting in her carefree attitude.
“I know about a lot of things that are better not to share with my husband,” Roberta answered him. “But, what I’ve come to know most of all after your company passed through is that I hate agreeing with both of them. I don’t have a choice when you think about it. If it wasn’t for Baltimore having saved your life all those times I’ve heard about, I wouldn’t have you. Neither would our son.”
“Would it matter to you whether it was Baltimo’ who put me in harm’s way before plucking me out, all of those times you’ve heard about?”
Roberta bent her elbow, took a long swig then smacked her lips like a liberal drinker who knew exactly how to enjoy a cold one. “It’s not up for me to say, Henry. The two cents I gave is all you’re getting from me. That decision now belongs to you, and you alone. I’ll be inside if you want to break out that whistle. I’m starting to think that a girl could do a lot worse than learning to blow one, if it’s her husband’s.”
As the screen door slapped against the wooden frame, Henry realized what Roberta was offering. He planned to coach her on the finer points but she didn’t require much instruction in the least. That’s when a funny notion struck him. Either his wife was one heck of a fast learner at whistle blowing or she’d had plenty of practice with husband number one. Whatever the case may have been, Henry was glad to be with a wife who loved him, wanted to make a good home, and cared enough to bend over backwards to please him. He did have Baltimore to thank for a number of things, but he’d worry about settling his conscience in the morning. At the time, he was busy persuading Roberta to bend over forwards too.
32
YOU DON’T SAY?
The day before the big trial, no one seemed to know what happened to Dinah or whether she was important at that point. Penny, riddled with grief, worked hard at clearing her mind. She owed Baltimore so much as she remembered how kind he had been with her. She feared his death would somehow bring about hers as well. Etta suggested she occupy herself by shopping to ease the tension knotted between her shoulders. Since it was easier to window browse than ponder on far more serious issues, she agreed to casually browse and pick up a few things along the way.
After treating herself to a set of satin panties, one for every day of the week from the Woolworth’s department store, Penny caught a taxi to Hanson’s Shoes. There, she purchased three pairs from their most expensive selection. The white salesman stared at her for a long time before accepting her money. A young colored lady shelling out thirty-five dollars a pair without batting an eye had him more than a hint suspicious. The man was flat out green with envy. Before she knew it, Penny had stuck out her tongue at him, goading him to risk his best sale of the day with a bigoted remark. Wisely, he placed good old fashioned common sense in the path of racist ideas and saved his commission. His behavior, and her own for that matter, rubbed Penny the wrong way. She was a new consumer but quickly learning how it felt to spend her money with people who would rather lose a sale than to treat colored customers with the same respect afforded white ones. That’s when she hopped in another cab and told him to carry her back to her neighborhood, “The Ville.”
The moment Penny stepped inside Watkins Emporium she noticed how it was buzzing with people who looked like her, colored folk. Immediately, she felt better about herself and Baltimore’s situation. Surely someone would find Dinah and she most certainly would say something to clear him. If coloreds couldn’t count on one another, she thought, where were they supposed to turn? Something had to give. It simply had to.
“Hey, Penny, it’s frenzied today,” Chozelle yelled when she passed by with an arm full of fabric. “People are buying up the place, getting sporty for the trial, I guess. I ain’t seen nothing like this since the war ended.”
“Me neither,” Penny mouthed silently, taking in all the excitement. “Chozelle, hold up a minute.”
“Move it, honey, I’m running as it is. Papa’s in his office checking on something for Jinxy. A telegram or some such foolishness, I think. That leaves me to handle this dizzying crowd. By the looks of it you’ve been getting a little dizzy yourself. You know them white stores don’t care about colored money.”
“Oh, these, I gave it to that last sales fella pretty good. Wagged my licker in his face and dared him to leap.”
“A hun’ed and change, but it was worth every dime watching his head swell up like a melon,” Penny answered, with a satisfied smile. “Did you say Jinxy was in here?”
“Sure did,” Chozelle confirmed with a carefree wave. “Check up front.” Obviously she’d gotten over their lopsided relationship and had subsequently moved on to the next three or four men to fill her social calendar. Penny was grateful nonetheless. She merely wanted one tall skinny suitor who wanted her just as much, that was her idea of having it all, despite her lack of understanding regarding exactly what to do with it.
Jinx was bent over the counter, dressed in worn blue work pants and a dirty long-sleeved shirt of nearly the same hue. Penny sat her bags on the floor and then tugged at the red rag hanging from his back pocket. Jinx turned around to get a look at who was bothering him. When he saw Penny’s flashy clothes and made-up face, he gushed with surprise.
“I should have known that only you’d be willing to get this close to a dirty yard man in your fancy duds. I declare, Penny King, you’s one of a kind and prettier than a picture.”
“Why, thank you, Jinxy, but I ain’t willing to let but one man get me dirty regardless,” she replied, as grown-up as she knew how. Just about then Mr. Watkins came out of his office hoisting a yellow telegram high in the air.
“I told you we had it,” he hailed gleefully. “It came last week. Must’ve been misfiled under ‘B’ for baseball instead of ‘D’ for Dearborn. Sorry about that.”
“What do I owe you, suh?” asked Jinx, behind a puzzled expression. He couldn’t understand why a telegram addressed to him would be regarding baseball.
“Ah, don’t mention it, Jinx. Those folks in Canada paid for it on the sending end.”
Penny handed the store owner a silver dollar. Mr. Watkins refused it initially, saying it was too much money, but she refused to take it back. Jinx thanked her as they headed off toward the exit. “You is something else. I don’t rightly know what yet, but you’s really something.”
“When you figure out what that something is, you need to let me in on it,” she said, just this side of scandalous. “Well, open it up. Somebody done saw fit to get your attention from a far away place for a reason.” Penny wasn’t sure where this Canada was, but it didn’t sound like it was any place near Missouri. Jinx ripped the seal off the telegram and unfolded it. He read it once, squinted his eyes into narrow slits then he read it again, this time more deliberately.
Penny took that piece of yellow paper from his trembling hands when he appeared too disturbed to speak. “‘Dear Sam Dearborn, Jr.,’” she read aloud. “‘It is with esteemed pleasure that the Montreal Royals Professional Baseball Organization offers to you an audition with our ball club. Stop. Please appear on or before June 17th, for an examination and workout with us. Stop.’”
Before she’d finished reading the message, Penny wore the same befuddled expression Jinx had. “Jinxy, this is big news. Why ain’t you jumping for joy? Baltimore says you’s good enough to play with Jackie Robinson and those white ball clubs. He said you had the right stuff.” Penny peered down at the telegram again in an odd fashion. “I thought you said this note came from some Canada folk. It says here they’s sending for you to play with the Mon-tree-all Royals.”
Chuckling like a man who heard a bad joke, Jinx explained that Montreal was a town in Canada, as best he knew, and that it was a great honor indeed to be invited to try out. It was his dream come true, but it was also a hollow victory. “I’m not sho’ I can head way up there all by myself, Penny. I’m a country boy, but that Canada is a whole ’nother country from this one. I was thinking on sticking it out here and seeing how you and me get along, steady-like, well, until Baltimore got pinched.”
“Sam Dearborn, Jr., you’d best to forget about me and Baltimore. It’s your big chance to be somebody famous and do what you love most. What you should be thinking about is how you gonna make it to join up with them Royals in four days. That’s a lot of thinking you need to do. First, get on home and tell your mama. She’s liable to bust wide open with pride. Congratulations, Jinxy! Ain’t that what they say when something good happens to you?”
“Whoa, Penny, we can’t tell anybody about this just yet. I need to settle down first. Promise?”
“Sho’, Jinxy,” she agreed, although she couldn’t see why he’d want to keep a lid on it. “Mum’s the word. I won’t spill it to nobody.”
“Thanks, Penny, I’ll catch up to you later. You sho’ is something. There’s a lot I needs to figure out right away.”
“Way to go, Jinxy,” she yelled, as he trotted off toward his old jalopy.
Chozelle stuck her nose out of the door sharply. “What you fussing over Jinxy about? Why all the fanfare?”
“Ah, it’s nothing really, he’s just happy to be looking at another job to get more of his clothes dirty,” Penny answered slyly. “Man, he sho’ can run.”
“Too bad ain’t no real money in running or that boy would be rich. Oh, well.” Chozelle ducked back inside when her snooping didn’t amount to anything substantial.
“That’s what you think,” Penny said to herself. “That fella can run, throw, hit and catch with the best of them. There’s more than riches in that. They’s also dreams come true to boot. Congratulations, Jinxy,” she sang like a phrase to a lover’s song. “Go on, boy, show ’em what you’s made of. They’ll sign you up as soon as they see you. I know I would.”
Penny kept her word when returning to the Fast House for work later that evening. She was finding things to smile about for the first time since Baltimore had gotten arrested. Etta didn’t understand it at first but soon enough, she recognized the rhythm in Penny’s steps. She didn’t have to ask who was to thank for her improved outlook. Etta could see nothing but Jinx’s reflection in Penny’s eyes. In her own was Baltimore’s wide-mouthed grin. She shared in Penny’s happiness like a mother would after her daughter crossed over into adulthood, ready to find her way. Penny was breaking free, but Etta wasn’t ready to let her go or give up her visions of Baltimore, laughing and loving life as it was intended, at full speed. She hated to imagine him being any other way although that didn’t make it so.
Thirteen days in lockup as a guest of the county granted Baltimore more than enough lonely days to sort out his life and the times he’d rather forget but couldn’t, because they made him feel alive. He’d spent a few nights behind bars before, mostly for misbehaving in small backwater towns, zigging when he should have zagged. Of all the ladies who surrendered to his pleasing ways, those still renting space in his head were the hot-natured, hot-tempered, head-strong lionesses who shined while loving him hard and long. Dinah Leonard was a lot like them, he insisted, when warring with a natural inclination to hold a grudge. It was difficult to harbor ill will after he replayed the scene which turned her against him. Dixie Sinclair was simply a by-product of his reluctance to settle down and stake a claim. If it hadn’t been her, Baltimore would have pressed his luck and driven Dinah away with someone else eventually.
During those thirteen days, he reminisced privately about the father who disowned him for living a wild lascivious life and the mother he prayed for often. Baltimore couldn’t understand why a beautiful and vibrant woman chose to stay in a toxic marriage, which yielded four outside children. Then, as suddenly as the question surfaced, it faded from his mind. Mulling over the pain men brazenly brought upon women, especially his own past transgressions, came at too high a price. He’d rather not be reminded just how much of his father’s son he’d become. That alone was his biggest regret.
Everything happens for a reason, Delbert advised Baltimore after overhearing him thinking out loud. He’d arrived the day before the trial, removed twelve stitches from Baltimore’s abdomen and several others used to patch head wounds suffered during the arrest. Although Baltimore had experienced a lion’s shar
e of devilment and hard luck, it never occurred to him that some things happened purely by chance because they were supposed to. He’d previously subscribed to the cause-and-effect school of thought but his untimely incarceration easily proved Delbert’s theory.
“Thanks, Doc,” Baltimore said, with newly uplifted spirits. “Everything does happen for a reason. It makes perfect sense. I should have thought of that myself. Sometimes one bad hand follows another, that’s just the way it goes.” As he tried on both sets of clothing Delbert collected from the apartment building at his behest, the pressures associated with rethinking the bad decisions he’d made in the last month dissipated. “All I could do was play the game. There was no way to know the next card would be the suicide jack of spade. I did what I could with what I had. I owe you, Doc. I owe you.”
Delbert stared at Baltimore oddly, as if he’d begun to lose his grip on reality. Taking into account what lay directly ahead, he fully understood if the man needed to back away from the pressures of imminent danger. He’d have taken a mental holiday long before then, if it were his head on the chopping block with the entire town waiting on the axe to fall. “Now that I got your attention, chew on this,” said Delbert. “Etta told me to pass a few things your way.”
Baltimore took a seat in his small cell and crossed his legs as if he were at a cocktail lounge tossing back drinks with an old friend. He listened attentively as Delbert reenacted Willie B.’s erratic conduct at Helen’s funeral. He did such an astounding job performing the scene that Baltimore had him reproduce it three more times. Etta was right, Baltimore also found it absurdly hilarious, once he’d gotten over the shock.
While catching his breath, Delbert relayed certain additional messages and brought him up to speed on Dank and Pudge’s efforts at investigating his case. Baltimore was glad to hear his friends had hung around when most men would have cut and run. He didn’t know how to feel when learning about Penny falling deeper for Jinx. On second thought, he liked the idea of those two building a wonderful but simple life together. Delbert hurriedly explained how their union wouldn’t be simple at all if Jinx decided to strike out of town and accept the audition with the Brooklyn Dodgers’ farm team in Montreal.
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