The clock on top of the White & Brekkler Insurance sign said 12:57 PM. Perfect timing. The library opened in three minutes.
Randall spent most of the day sleeping in an oversized chair in the nonfiction section. I spent most of my time reading magic books on how to make people disappear. I was convinced that with enough mind power and some basic working knowledge of magic I could make Thursgood disappear into thin air.
Finally, I found a really good book by accident just because I was snooping around. Magic Spells. The title alone was enticing. This was how I could make Thursgood disappear. Before I woke up Randall, I took the book to the counter and checked it out.
Chapter 4
The next morning, Marmalade loaded me into the car and Randall drove me home.
There were rolling papers and seeds all over the coffee table when I walked inside. Candles burned in pools of wax on top of the tv. Wax dripped down over the screen. Nash was in the kitchen. I walked over and stood in the doorway.
“Hey,” he said. “Does your mom drink coffee?”
I was happy to see him and smiled super-big. “Yeah, up in the cabinet.”
I walked over and stood on my toes, pointing.
He pulled it down and opened the package. The scent burst into the air.
“So, what are you doing here?” I asked, trying to figure out if he’d moved in.
“Well, I’ve been staying here a few days.”
“Are you going to keep staying here?”
“Maybe, but first I’ve got to go to New York.”
“For what?”
“Business.”
“Oh.”
“I was thinking you and your mom could go with me.”
The next day we went to the airport. I’d never flown on an airplane before. He explained that my ears would feel funny and to hold my nose with my fingers and blow until they popped. It was silly and drunk with happiness to be going somewhere and doing something.
In New York buildings stretched down the streets for miles in all directions. The lobby of our hotel was full of beautiful chairs the color of Rapunzel’s hair. The man carrying our suitcases let me ride on the cart all the way up to our room. I stood in the elevator watching the lights flash behind the numbers. I’d never ridden so high before. In our bathroom we had an enormous marble bathtub as big as a swimming pool.
“Oh my God,” I said, walking up the steps of the tub. “What is this?”
Nash stood in the doorway behind me. “It’s a Jacuzzi bathtub.”
“A what?” I said, looking back over my shoulder.
He walked over, turning the faucet on. “I’ll show you.”
There was a big bottle of bubble bath on the edge of the tub.
I pointed, “Can I?”
He nodded and walked back into the other room. Jets sprayed water out of the sides of the tub and I squirted a big glob of bubble bath into the rising water.
When I looked up Moochi was on the other side, staring down into the foam.
“Look at this,” I motioned to the tub.
Moochi nodded.
“We can swim in here,” I said, practicing my wink.
“Tupelo Honey,” my mother shouted from the other room, “stop talking to yourself.”
Moochi frowned, one ear flopping down in his face.
“She doesn’t believe you’re real,” I whispered.
He rolled his eyes.
I turned around as Nash walked through the door, carrying a big leather folder. He checked the bubble status, sat down on the steps and opened the folder. “Here,” he said, “we’re going to order from room service.”
“What’s room service?”
“It’s where you order food from a kitchen downstairs and they bring it up to your room.”
My eyes scanned up and down the columns on the menu. “No way.”
He nodded. “Way.”
I’d never even heard of most of the stuff on the menu. “What are you having?”
“I don’t know,” he said. “Maybe filet mignon.” The rising water level was diminishing my bubbles. Nash grabbed the bottle, giving it a big squeeze.
“I’ll have that,” I said, wondering what a mignon was.
“And a shrimp cocktail,” he said.
“I’ll have one of those, too.” I’d seen shrimp dancing on TV. “What do we do when we’re done?” I asked.
“We stand at the window and watch all of the lights twinkle.”
“Like a Christmas tree?”
“Better.”
I splashed and swam and floated until my fingertips turned to prunes.
My mother appeared in the doorway. “Get out before you drown,” she said.
A tall man in a white uniform rolled our dinner in on a big cart. Nash opened the curtains and the dark sky fanned out behind a bowl of bright sparkling lights. As it turned out, a mignon is a big steak. I ate steak, baked potato, shrimp cocktail, and New York cheesecake until I thought I’d burst. Stealing glances outside the window, I asked, “Have you ever been here before?”
Nash nodded.
I noticed my mother wasn’t eating so I offered her one of my shrimp.
“That’s disgusting.” She waved it away. “They’re scavengers.”
“How about cheesecake?”
She shook her head, fidgeting, then looked around the room.
My eyes drifted back to the lights. I was sure famous people must have stayed in this hotel, maybe even in this very room.
My bed at the hotel was as big as my entire bedroom at home. When I whipped back the sheets on my king-sized wonder, I found candy on my pillows.
How did the hotel people know I loved dark chocolate?
On the other side of the door I heard Nash talking in a hushed, fast voice. Then I heard the bathroom door slam. I didn’t care. I had my own bathroom and it had a swimming pool in it.
Moochi climbed into bed next to me.
“Can you believe this?” I swooped my arms over my head. “Judy Garland sang here at Radio City Music Hall.”
Moochi nodded. The Wizard of Oz thrilled him. Toto was his favorite.
We climbed under the blankets and before we knew it . . . we were fast asleep.
I drifted off into a subterranean slumber that left me so well rested I was delirious when I woke up. Moochi was gone. Streams of light illuminated the edges of the curtains. What day was it? I climbed out of bed and walked across the room, feeling the plush carpet curl under my toes. The sun was up. Everything was quiet. Tiptoeing across the room, I listened for any movement. The only sound was the hum of the air conditioning clicking on. Moochi was in the bathroom, staring down over the edge of the bathtub like it was the Grand Canyon. Life was good.
Laying my ear against the cool wood door, I listened for sounds from my mother and Nash’s room. I began to wonder if the world had stopped while I was sleeping and Moochi and I were the only two left on the planet. Then I heard movement. It was faint but definitely a life form. I twisted the handle, then stopped. What if there were monsters on the other side? I jerked the door open to face an empty room.
I followed the sounds through the other bedroom, stopping at the bathroom door, where the shower was blasting full throttle on the other side. I camped out at the door, listening to my stomach growl. Finally, I knocked.
“Hey,” I yelled. Nothing. I pounded with my fist. After a second, the shower stopped. Trickles of water echoed in the chamber.
Nash yelled back, “Go get ready. You’re going with me today.”
“Okay,” I yelled. Then the water started again.
I ran back to my room, reveling in the fact that this place was so big we could live here. I dove into my suitcase, clicking open the locks on either side. Hmmm . . . oh, I know . . . plaid bell-bottoms. And a pink t-shirt with hearts all over it. I was fully dressed and ready to run out the door when I realized I’d only brought one pair of shoes. My gnarly white tennis shoes didn’t exactly match.
“Hey, kiddo. You r
eady?”
I spun around, startled.
Nash stared at me.
“Where’s my mom?” I asked.
“I don’t know,” he said. “That’s why you have to go with me today.”
He held out his hand and I walked over. I liked his big warm hand wrapped around mine. “Maybe she went out to get breakfast,” I offered.
“Yeah, maybe she did,” he sighed.
“Speaking of breakfast,” I skipped along to the elevator, “I’m starving.”
“Me, too.”
In the taxi I turned around in the seat because I couldn’t see anything. The back window was like a movie screen where everything moved in and out of focus and then farther away until rows and rows of big gray buildings lay behind us, solid, enormous, each one different. I pulled a little notepad out of my purse.
“What are you doing?” Nash asked.
“Drawing the buildings so I can show Randall.”
Nash laughed. “You’ll be drawing all day, kiddo.”
“What are you guys doing in the city?” the taxi driver asked, glancing up into the rearview mirror.
“Business.” Nash flashed a smile.
I loved that smile.
The taxi dropped us off at another hotel with a man out front who opened the door for us.
“Does he live here?” I whispered, walking fast across the lobby, trying to keep up.
“That’s a doorman.”
“Oh, yeah. Right. What about breakfast?”
He pressed the button for the elevator. “Upstairs. Johnny always has food.”
As it turned out, Johnny was a big guy with bright blue eyes and a suit with no fuzz on it. Another guy, named Dale, patted Nash down just like in the movies. Then he patted me down.
“What was that for?” I asked.
“Checking you for wires, kid.”
I turned to Nash. “What kind of wires?”
Nash smiled. Everyone else laughed.
“What’s so funny?”
“Nothing,” Nash chuckled. Then he turned to Johnny. “We haven’t eaten yet.”
Johnny clapped. “Someone get the kid some food.”
In the other room, which was kind of like the first room but bigger, there was a man named Lionel, who introduced himself.
“What do you do?” I asked.
“I’m Johnny’s bodyguard.”
“What do you do?”
“I protect him and make sure everyone around him has his best interest in mind.”
Oh.
Johnny didn’t just have one cart full of food. He had five. Lionel handed me a plate and I stood on my tiptoes, checking out the options.
“Don’t you just love room service,” I said to Lionel.
He nodded. “Yeah, Johnny likes good food.”
“What’s that?”
“Quiche,” he said.
“What’s that?”
“Crêpes.”
“What’s a crêpe?” I asked.
“Umm, it’s kinda like a pancake filled with fruit and cream.”
“Oh. What’s that?”
“It’s a scone.” He grabbed one. “My favorite.”
After twenty questions I had a plate full of food I’d never eaten. And I managed to score a cup of coffee with cream and sugar.
Lionel sat next to me on a fat, cushy sofa. He smelled good, like soap and cologne, rich and fragrant like my coffee. His plate was piled even higher than mine. As I smeared butter and jam all over my scone, which really tasted like a big biscuit, I heard the men talking in the other room. Occasionally laughter erupted, followed by lowered voices, then talking, then a knock on the door. Lionel and I were still chowing down when Nash walked into the room.
“How ya doing?” he asked.
“Good,” I mumbled, my mouth full of quiche.
Nash piled a plate high with fruit and crêpes, then turned back to me. “I’ll be in there a little longer. Okay?”
I nodded. “Take your time.”
As he walked back to the other room I caught a glimpse of someone who hadn’t been there before. He had shiny black hair and dark eyes. His skin was dark like an Indian’s. I had never seen anyone like him. For a brief second he turned and caught my eye. I shivered.
“You cold?” Lionel asked.
“No. Someone walked over my grave.”
He stared at me. “Where’d you learn that?”
“Marmalade.”
“Your what?”
“My Granny. We call her Marmalade. She says her grandmother called her that when she was little like me.”
“What’s it mean?”
“I don’t know. It’s just something she says when she shivers.”
“Is she alive?”
I nodded.
“Then she ain’t got no grave,” he said, perturbed.
I was afraid I’d made him mad so I went about my business and shut up.
“We don’t talk about graves here, no how.”
I nodded.
A few seconds later, he gave me a playful punch on the arm. “Come on. You ever had a Shirley Temple?”
A phone rang in one of the bedrooms. Lionel went off to answer it. From where I was standing I saw him pick up the receiver, then sit down on the bed with his back to me. When it was clear that snooping was an option, I snuck over to the door to the main room where the meeting was being held and listened.
All of the voices in the other room were different, but one was more different than the rest. The black-haired man was Spanish. I could hear his accent through the wood. I heard him say, “I want no problems.” Then someone said, “No problems.” Nash said something but I couldn’t hear well enough. Then Johnny’s voice boomed, saying something, and everyone laughed.
“What are you doing?” Lionel’s voice thundered behind me.
Horrified, I turned. Lionel was standing in the doorway to the bedroom, staring right at me. “I was . . . umm . . . listening.”
“Well, don’t. Now get over here and have a Shirley Temple with me.”
“Does it have alcohol in it?”
“No. We don’t hit the sauce around here. Johnny don’t allow it.”
An hour later Nash opened the door. I was sprawled out on the sofa, fat as a tick, watching cartoons. Lionel walked into the front room, positioning himself next to Johnny, who was walking my way.
Johnny looked at Nash. “I didn’t know you brought a kid. I’m not sure I like it.”
Nash’s eyes narrowed at the edges. “Why?”
“Cause it might not be safe to bring strangers in here if you know what I mean.”
“I’m safe,” I blurted out.
Johnny turned quickly and it scared me. He walked swiftly toward me, his big feet swallowing up carpet, then kneeled down. “Is that so?”
“Yeah,” I said. “That’s so.”
Johnny laughed. “You got spunk.” He pulled a wad of money from his pocket and peeled off two twenty-dollar bills, handing them over.
The black-haired Spaniard was standing behind Nash, watching me. “What’s your name?” he asked.
I stammered, “Tupelo Honey.”
“No, shit.” Johnny slapped his leg. He stood, gesturing to the rest of the men. “Give the kid some money you tightwads, and let’s get out of here.”
With military precision they all lined up in front of me, digging wads of money out of their pockets or wallets. I didn’t know what to do so I stood there as they filed past, smiling, saying it was nice to meet them and taking their cash. The Spaniard was the last in line. He knelt in front of me. He smelled like cinnamon toast and leather. I could see my reflection in his dark eyes.
“What is your name again?”
“Tupelo Honey.”
“Well, Tupelo Honey, in my country we give friends something that belongs to us. Do you understand?”
I nodded. “Kind of.”
“That makes the gift special.” He unlatched a small silver bracelet from his wrist. “This bracelet
has been on my arm for five years. It will bring you good luck. It came from a pirate’s chest near where I lived.”
Pirate’s chest? Treasure. Are you joking? Gimme Gimme Gimme. My heart was beating so fast, I thought it would pound out of my chest.
“Give me your arm,” he said.
I held my wrist out. I heard Johnny breathing behind me. It was so quiet my ears started ringing. He clasped the bracelet on my wrist. It was big and dangled. He unclasped it and wrapped it twice around and then secured it. It fit perfectly.
“What do you say?” Nash asked.
“Thank you,” I said, breathless. “Thank you.”
“In my country we say gracias.”
“Gracias,” I said, with equal gusto.
The Spaniard stood up.
“What’s your name?” I asked.
The black-haired man laughed. “Everyone knows my name. Johnny, tell her my name.”
I looked back over my shoulder at Johnny, who smiled and said, “His name is Pablo. Everybody knows that sonofabitch.”
Pablo laughed. “Watch your mouth, Johnny. She’s a kid.”
Then we all left. Everyone took separate elevators or the stairs. No one said a word in the hallway.
Standing at the curb, waiting while Nash flagged a taxi, I stared down at my wrist. The bracelet looked like silver hair braided together, and there were little tiny stones.
Nash said, “Be careful with that bracelet. It’s white gold.”
“Gold is white?”
“Yeah.” He reached down and lifted my wrist in for a closer look. “Yeah, looks like a real score for you. Those are diamonds set in there.”
“Diamonds?”
He nodded, returning his attention to the street to wave his hand furiously until a taxi stopped.
Diamonds. I couldn’t wait to tell Moochi.
I was awed riding in the backseat of a taxi with buildings whizzing past and more people than I’d ever seen in my life. Then we hiked the huge expanse of the lobby to the elevators.
“What are we doing?” I asked.
“We’re going to get your mom..”
Oh, that’s not very interesting. “Do you know where she is?”
“I’m hoping she’s upstairs.” Nash ushered me into the elevator.
When the doors slid open on our floor, I stepped out first and saw a man coming out of our room. Nash saw him too and pulled me back in the elevator. He jammed his finger into the “close door” button.
Tupelo Honey Page 3