Southern Ruby

by Belinda Alexandra

  Leroy was astounded when I explained who Clifford Lalande was and why he’d come to my dressing room.

  ‘You turned away a rich white lawyer to be with me?’ he said, grinning to show he was glad. ‘You wouldn’t have had to work any more, and you wouldn’t have to sneak around with me.’

  ‘I like sneaking around with you,’ I told him, placing my hands on his shoulders.

  But he didn’t take my words as a joke. ‘We’ve got to figure something out,’ he said. ‘We can’t be playing around and pretending any more. I’m serious about you and you’re serious about me. We’ve got to decide what we’re going to do.’

  Leroy was right. We were going to have to do something, because staying together in New Orleans was impossible. Only a few days earlier, the Louisiana Weekly had published a story about a coloured girl whose tongue was cut out after she named her white rapists; and another about a father shot in front of his children for writing to the Governor and requesting better streetlighting in his Negro neighbourhood. In the next few months things continued to deteriorate all over the South. The Reverend George Lee, a NAACP volunteer, was shot for helping coloured people in the Mississippi Delta register to vote. Even though several witnesses saw the white culprits drive away in their car, the police didn’t charge anyone and no investigations were made.

  ‘I heard from the funeral director in Belzoni that the Reverend’s face was shot off and had to be sewn back on,’ Pearl told us one Sunday when we gathered for lunch. ‘But the County Sheriff passed off the death as a car accident and the hundreds of shotgun pellets lodged in the Reverend’s face and neck as dental fillings!’

  My eyes drifted to Ti-Jean, who was sitting with his fists clenched but not saying a word. I remembered what he’d said a few months ago: ‘They can hang us, burn us, castrate us, shoot us and rape our women and children, but we’ve got to take it yessing and grinning and shining shoes for a living.’ But the coloured folks of the South were no longer ‘yessing’ and taking it. The fear and terror had started to wear off. You could only push people so far before they started to push back.

  ‘Ti-Jean’s going to Mississippi tomorrow to organise boycotts and marches,’ Leroy told me after the lunch. ‘He’s going to get himself killed.’

  I knew Leroy was right to worry.

  TWENTY-TWO

  Ruby

  Although there’d been no sign of Jimmy the barman since Sam fired him, Leroy still walked close behind me when I returned to Chartres Street after the show. Sometimes, to lift our spirits, we played games with each other. I’d speed up and then slow down to make him trip. Other times, when no-one was around, I’d perform a sexy strut with my hips swinging and my heels making clicking sounds on the banquette. Leroy would whistle tunes from the show or tap dance footsteps behind me to make me laugh.

  One night when I turned into Chartres Street, I noticed two men lurking in a dimly lit doorway. One was tall and beefy, the other was runty.

  ‘Hey, sweetie! Where you going all by yourself so late at night?’ the beefy one called to me.

  My scalp prickled. I could hear Leroy’s footsteps — he was only a short distance behind me. Should I warn him or continue on? I decided to ignore the men and keep walking, hoping Leroy would see them before they spotted him. A voice inside my head implored me to run, but if these guys were trouble that would only entice them to chase me, like dogs after a squirrel.

  Please, Leroy, I prayed, please see them before they see you. But it was too late.

  ‘Hey, boy, you following that woman?’ asked the same man who had spoken to me. ‘Hey, sweetie, stop. You know you got a nigger following you?’

  Leroy must have gotten past them because I heard his voice from a few yards behind me. ‘Walk faster, Jewel. I’ll turn at the next corner and lead them away from you.’

  Panic was making it hard to breathe, but I did as Leroy instructed, gradually increasing my pace and not looking back. But then I heard other footsteps and knew the men were following us.

  ‘Hey, Jewel! Leroy! I know it’s you,’ a different voice said. ‘I’ve been on to you two for a long time.’

  The tone was brittle. I knew who that voice belonged to: Jimmy the barman.

  Leroy caught up and urged me on, searching for a house with a light on or somewhere to escape to. But who would open their door to a white woman and a coloured man, especially at this time of night? Our best hope was to reach the all-night laundromat on Esplanade Avenue where someone might help us.

  ‘Where you going?’ Jimmy taunted. ‘There’s no place you can hide. May as well save yourselves the effort.’

  Leroy turned and faced the two men. ‘What do you want? I accompany Miss Jewel home after the show on Sam’s orders.’

  ‘Sure you do,’ replied Jimmy. His face was devil-like as he moved menacingly towards us.

  Leroy stepped between me and Jimmy. ‘Run, Jewel! Run!’

  I jumped as Jimmy lunged at Leroy, who blocked his punch and countered with one of his own. The uppercut sent Jimmy flying, but the other man grappled with Leroy, wrestling him to the ground. Jimmy got up and rushed in to kick Leroy. I was terrified but I couldn’t leave Leroy there to fight on his own.

  ‘I’ll kill you!’ I screamed, throwing myself at Jimmy.

  He grabbed me by the throat and shoved me against a wall. I gasped for air and clawed at his hands, struggling to breathe as his grip grew tighter. ‘I’ll get to you in a minute,’ he grunted as he clamped down hard on my larynx. I blacked out and when I came to both men had set on Leroy again and with each blow his body crumpled further.

  Stars swam in front of my eyes before I realised they were headlights. I struggled to my feet, coughing violently, and waved at the approaching car, slamming my hands on the bonnet when it slowed down. ‘Help us!’ I cried out to the white driver. But he only looked from me to Leroy and accelerated, nearly running me over as he sped away.

  Jimmy and his companion continued to viciously attack Leroy. I knew they wouldn’t stop until they had killed him. The sound of the blood gurgling in Leroy’s throat threw me back into action. I tore at the men, biting and scratching, trying to pull them off him.

  Another car approached, but this one stopped. Two men in suits jumped out.

  One of the men wrenched the big guy off Leroy. He turned to punch the newcomer, but the other man pulled out a gun and shot him right between the eyes. Leroy’s attacker staggered backwards then fell to the ground. Blood seeped out of his mouth and ears and ran into the gutter.

  The shooter turned to Jimmy and pointed the gun at him. Jimmy let go of Leroy and scrambled down the street, knocking over garbage cans as bullets whizzed past him.

  ‘That’ll scare him,’ the man said, lowering his gun.

  Everything had happened so quickly it took me a moment to regain my senses. I ran to Leroy who had managed to sit up, and wiped the blood from his face with my hands. He had a nasty gash above his eye but the other wounds were superficial and no lasting damage had been done. I turned back to the men. Did they intend to shoot us too? I clasped Leroy’s hands, waiting for the bullet. But a third man now stepped from the car, and I recognised the debonair form of Sam Coppola.

  ‘Get in the car, Jewel,’ he said. ‘My men will take care of that garbage in the gutter, and get Leroy to the hospital. You come with me.’

  I looked at Leroy, who winced when he stood, as if his ribs might be broken. ‘No! I can’t leave him!’

  Sam moved towards me and grabbed my arm. ‘Get in the car. This isn’t a scene for a lady.’

  ‘Please, go!’ Leroy said, with a grimace. ‘I’m all right, Jewel. Please go, for my sake.’

  Reluctantly, I got in the car. Sam climbed in next to me and the driver took off. I looked back to see another car arrive and two men get out. They lifted the dead man’s body off the street, while another man helped Leroy into the passenger seat.

  ‘You all right?’ Sam asked me.

  ‘How did you know they were going to
attack us?’

  ‘I didn’t. I was on my way to visit a lady friend when I saw you getting your heads beaten in.’ He took a handkerchief from his pocket and gave it to me to wipe my hands, which were sticky with blood. ‘What the hell were you thinking, Jewel? I thought you had more sense! This isn’t Paris. You can’t go traipsing around with a coloured man. I’ve turned a blind eye, but I can’t afford to get the club shut down. I’m going to fire Leroy and the band. It’s too risky.’

  The blood rushed to my head. ‘No! I won’t perform without Leroy!’

  ‘Don’t be a fool!’ Sam barked. ‘Don’t you have your mother to think about? You’ll do as I tell you!’

  My hands shook. It was the first time Sam had ever raised his voice to me. I turned away and stared out the window at the French Quarter. I used to love New Orleans and now I hated it. The world was closing in on me and Leroy, and I didn’t know how to stop it.

  Before breakfast with Maman the following morning I applied cold compresses to my bruised neck and wrapped a scarf around my throat so she wouldn’t see the marks Jimmy had made. It was painful to swallow and I had no appetite but I did my best to plaster a carefree smile on my face.

  ‘You look like the cat that ate the canary,’ Maman said to me. ‘What are you thinking about with a sly grin on your face like that? Is Clifford Lalande back in town?’

  I shook my head. ‘No, Maman. He’s setting up a law firm in New York. He wrote you that.’

  ‘He’s been gone so long,’ she said, a puzzled frown wrinkling her face. ‘I didn’t think he’d be able to stay away from you.’

  After breakfast I went to Canal Street and used the pay phone to call the hospital, but the nurse there said that Leroy had been sent home. I walked to the room in Chartres Street, and put my red wig on before heading to Leroy’s house.

  I turned into his street and immediately sensed something was wrong. Everything was quiet, not a soul anywhere. Then I saw it and stopped in my tracks, a chill running down my spine. A charred cross had been stuck in the front lawn of the funeral home, with a noose lying around its base. Joseph came out with a handsaw and a sack.

  I ran towards him. ‘Is everyone all right?’

  He looked at me with vacant eyes. ‘Yeah, we’re all right. Just shook up, that’s all.’

  ‘Did you call the police?’

  He snorted in disgust. ‘The police can’t do anything about some cowardly bigot.’

  I immediately thought of Jimmy: the act reeked of him. But Joseph had other ideas.

  ‘The Ku Klux Klan is banned in New Orleans. I reckon it was somebody from Mississippi who doesn’t like what Ti-Jean has been doing. If they can’t get him, they’ll get us.’

  I held the sack open for him while he sawed up the cross and tossed the pieces into it. Milton came out and took the sack from me.

  ‘It won’t make things better if somebody sees you helping him,’ he whispered.

  Joseph nodded. ‘He’s right. Go inside, Jewel. You’ll find everyone in the house.’

  The windows were shut, and for the first time since I’d started coming to the Thezan family’s home I found the door locked. I knocked softly. Pearl opened it and ushered me inside and towards the front room, where Bunny was sitting with Alma, Eleanor and Dora and two sullen-looking women I didn’t recognise. I assumed they were neighbours. They looked me up and down but didn’t say anything. I could see Dwight and Gerard in the next room. Their eyes were cast down and they were speaking in low voices. The mood in Leroy’s home had always been congenial and festive; now it was morose.

  Bunny embraced me. ‘It’s so awful! How am I going to sleep at night?’

  ‘And nobody saw who did it?’ I asked.

  ‘No,’ replied Eleanor. ‘We heard a loud bang in the early hours and a car driving off. At first we thought the funeral home had been firebombed, then Milton looked out the window and saw the burning cross. Our Italian neighbours put it out but we wouldn’t let Milton and Joseph leave the house until now, in case whoever did it was still hanging around.’

  ‘Pa thinks it’s because of Ti-Jean being in the NAACP,’ said Bunny.

  ‘Can’t think what else it would be,’ said Eleanor. ‘Our family’s lived here for generations and it’s always been peaceful and nice.’

  ‘Could be because Leroy’s got himself a white girlfriend,’ said one of the neighbours, her face pinched into an expression of dislike.

  ‘Hush now,’ Pearl told her. She turned to me. ‘Leroy got bashed last night, down in the Quarter. He’s all right though. He’s in the tool shed. Go and see him. It’s at the bottom of the garden.’

  I wondered why Leroy hadn’t told his family that I’d been with him when he was attacked, but then I remembered the hostile neighbours and understood his reasons for not saying anything.

  I rushed past the vegetable garden, and followed a path through some banana trees to the bottom of the garden. I expected the tool shed to be a shack; instead I found myself standing in front of a neatly constructed cabin with a shingled roof and a barn-style door. The strains of a clarinet came from inside.

  I opened the door and found Leroy sitting in a rocking chair, with his eyes closed, lost in his music. Despite the beating he’d taken he didn’t look too bad. Two black eyes, a grazed chin and a bandage on his forehead. His playing wasn’t interfered with by his strapped right wrist either. While I waited for him to notice me, I glanced around the shed. Screwdrivers, hammers and spanners hung in ascending order of size from a tool board while garden implements were arranged in a systematic fashion along shelves. There was even a braided rug on the floor and a comfortable looking upholstered bench on which to sit. The tools reminded me of how Leroy loved to fix things in the room on Chartres Street. That place had been our haven but after Jimmy had said he’d been watching us, it wasn’t safe for us to meet there any more.

  Leroy gave a start when he saw me. He put the clarinet down and rose from the chair. ‘Jewel, I’ve been so worried about you,’ he said, hugging me to his chest. ‘Are you all right?’

  It was only when he kissed me that I noticed his lip was swollen. ‘Doesn’t it hurt to play?’ I asked.

  ‘Doesn’t hurt to play or to kiss. As long as you’re safe, I feel no pain at all.’

  His shirt felt lumpy and I peeked inside his collar to see that his torso was bandaged. ‘You could have been killed!’ I said, resisting the urge to embrace him tightly. ‘Do you think it was Jimmy who put the cross on the lawn?’

  He shook his head. ‘I don’t know. Maybe, if he had the time.’

  We released each other and sat down on the bench together. With the comfortable furnishings, the shed was more a hideaway than a storehouse.

  ‘Sam’s going to fire you and the band,’ I said.

  Leroy nodded. ‘He told me that when he picked me up from the hospital this morning. He’s paid us for a full month. We’ll find something else.’

  ‘I don’t want to work with anybody but you.’

  He grimaced and rubbed his strapped wrist. ‘What happened last night has shaken my folks. For the first time I heard Mama and Pa talking about moving away and starting again somewhere else. Chicago, or maybe even San Francisco.’

  My heart sank. I couldn’t bear to lose Leroy’s family; they had become like my own.

  ‘Things will calm down,’ I told him. ‘It’s the school desegregation issue. When everything settles down, New Orleans will be like it was before.’

  He sighed and rested his chin on my head. ‘I was so worried about you, Jewel. I told you to run! Why didn’t you?’

  ‘I couldn’t leave you.’

  He took a deep breath and turned me to face him. ‘They could have done something terrible to you. I couldn’t bear that. I couldn’t bear for you to be hurt because of me.’

  I had never seen Leroy look so serious. Something had changed in him. Although we were sitting with our bodies pressed together, he suddenly felt far away. The idea that some gap was forming
between us made my pulse race with panic.

  ‘Perhaps we should leave New Orleans too,’ I said, grabbing his unhurt wrist and squeezing it. ‘I’ve heard there’s plenty of work for entertainers in San Francisco.’

  He stood up and moved to the window. ‘Do you think it will be so different there? What’s life going to be like for you? You won’t be able to walk around freely with your husband by your side. What’s it going to be like pretending you’re part coloured? And what about our children? Don’t you want to be proud of your children and show them off to everybody?’ He frowned. ‘You’d be ashamed of them because they’d be mulattos.’

  ‘What are you saying?’ I rose to my feet. ‘I do want to be proud of my children, Leroy, and I will be when I see you in their faces!’

  He shook his head. ‘You got a nice white man in love with you,’ he said, his eyes cast down. ‘Clifford Lalande can give you a life that I can’t. He can look after you properly. I’ll only make you a target.’

  Pain sliced me down the middle and split me apart. The gap between us that I’d sensed earlier was now a gaping chasm. Not because we loved each other less, but because the world was tearing us apart.

  ‘Leroy, I love you! Only you! You don’t want me to suffer? Well, I’ll suffer if I’m separated from you!’

  The desperation in my own voice made me cringe but Leroy remained firm.

  ‘What about your mother? You can’t leave her behind, and I wouldn’t ask you to.’

  ‘I’ve done everything for Maman and I always will,’ I said breathlessly. ‘But she’s got to face reality too. She can’t keep us living in some imaginary past forever. It might turn her world upside down, but I know she’ll love you once she gets to know you.’ I moved towards him and clasped his arm. ‘What’s left for Maman and Mae in New Orleans? To waste away in our museum of an apartment? San Francisco might give them both a new lease on life too.’

  Leroy stared out the window for a long time before he asked quietly: ‘Is that what you want, Jewel? To leave everything and marry me?’