Idaho Springs, Denver Cereal V16

by Claudia Hall Christian

  “Talent like that comes from God himself,” the elderly man said. He looked at the men in the room, with his eyes settling on Big Daddy. “I only know one other man who can do like you. He your Daddy?”

  Seth vigorously shook his head. The elderly man gave him a slow nod. Looking at the people in the room, the man shook his head.

  “You’d better clap, or you’re insulting the Lord,” the elderly man said.

  Everyone in the room began to clap. Claire sat down on the piano bench next to Seth. Seth looked at Claire, and she looked really happy.

  “I heard you were looking for a teacher,” the elderly man said in a low, intimate voice while they clapped.

  “Jazz piano,” Seth said.

  “It’s his destiny,” Claire said.

  “That so,” the elderly man said. “Why do you think that?”

  “I’m here in New York City,” Seth said with a nod.

  “You’re already good enough,” the elderly man said.

  “I want to learn as much as I can,” Seth said. “Spend my life getting as good as I possibly can get.”

  The elderly man looked at Seth for what felt like an hour.

  “I’ll teach you,” the elderly man said with a nod.

  Seth felt the heat of Big Daddy’s eyes on his back.

  “He can pay,” Big Daddy said.

  “My son,” the elderly man said to Seth with a sniff. “He won’t be satisfied unless you pay.”

  Seth nodded. He took the wad of money out of his pocket again and gave it to the elderly man. The elderly man took the money. He went through the bills, sorting it into denominations, until it was a tidy pile. He pulled a five dollar bill out and gave the money back to Seth.

  “If I’m going to teach you, you got to first learn to respect your money,” the elderly man said. “Money for people like us comes fast but goes a lot faster. You need to respect its power. You have to be careful.”

  “Yes, sir,” Seth said.

  The elderly man seemed impressed by Seth’s simply utterance of “Yes, sir.” He nodded.

  “You bring me one of these fives every time we meet,” the elderly man said. “That way, you help us out while we help you out.”

  “Thank you, sir,” Seth said. He put his hand to his chest. “I’m Seth O’Malley.”

  “I’m Earl, but everybody calls me ‘Bud,’” the elderly man said. “That’s my wife, Dinah. She goes by ‘Di.’”

  “It seems disrespectful to call you by your first name, sir,” Seth said.

  Bud met that comment with a belly laugh. Di, the elderly woman, joined him. Embarrassed, Seth felt like they were laughing at him. He looked down at the piano keys. Seth felt Bernice put her hand on his back. Bernice leaned down to Seth’s ear.

  “White folks don’t usually call black folks by ‘Mr.’ or ‘Mrs.’ or even ‘Sir,’” Bernice said in a soft tone. “That’s why they’re laughing.”

  Surprised, Seth looked up at her. Bernice nodded. He looked up at Bud, and the elderly man nodded.

  “How often can you come?” Bud asked.

  “He’s only in the city on the weekends,” Claire said.

  “I go to Eastman,” Seth said. “Music scholarship.”

  “That’s just fine,” the elderly man said. He smiled at Seth. He looked around the room, “The boy goes to college for free because of his talent. He wants to spend his own time and money learning jazz from one of us uneducated folk here in Harlem.”

  Bud shot Big Daddy a hard look.

  “I can see why your men hit the boy,” Bud said.

  Big Daddy looked down at the desk. Bud turned his attention back to Seth.

  “You come Saturday mornings and Sunday afternoons,” Bud said. “Every week until the end of the year. We’ll see how much you pick up. You going to have a problem with Saturdays?”

  “No, sir,” Seth said. “Why?”

  “You look Jewish,” Bud said.

  “Catholic,” Seth said with a grin. “Same thing.”

  Bud laughed. Forgetting all about his mouth, Seth smiled and then regretted it. Soothed by the music, his mouth was now on fire.

  “Thank you,” Seth tried to say.

  At that instant, Seth’s lip burst open again. He spit blood at Bud. A glob of blood and mucus landed on the man’s chest. Still laughing, the elderly man pointed to the blood on his chest and Dinah laughed at him. The elderly woman’s laugh made Claire laugh. Grinning, Bernice helped Seth up.

  “Let’s get you cleaned up,” Bernice said. She glanced at her husband.

  “Yes, ma’am,” Big Daddy said.

  “Come on, child,” Bernice said, and she gestured to Claire.

  Claire followed them into the back. Bud and Dinah followed close behind.

  “So that’s it?” Ava asked Seth.

  She was sitting on the side of their bed in Seth’s apartment. Seth looked at her and sighed.

  “There’s a lot more than that,” Seth said.

  “I bet!” Ava said.

  Ava waited for a moment to see if Seth would say more. He didn’t.

  “How long did Bud teach you?” Ava asked.

  “Until he died,” Seth said. “Christmas time. The last year I was at Eastman.”

  Seth nodded. He went to use the toilet, mostly to give himself some time to control his emotions. Ava waited for him to return.

  “Big Daddy didn’t like the idea of me taking the train,” Seth said, as he came back into the room. “He said it was too dangerous as I could lead people to him. He had the guy who hit me pick me up outside the dorm on Fridays and drive me into the city. Claire and I took the subways up to Harlem every weekend.”

  “Claire went with you?” Ava asked. “Every time?”

  “Claire . . . Well, she should probably tell you herself,” Seth said.

  “She won’t,” Ava said.

  “You’re right,” Seth said. “She won’t.”

  Thinking, he stood in one place in the room and stared at the wall.

  “I used to rent this room from the diner owner,” Seth said. He smiled. “I didn’t know about money then. Still don’t, really. I paid him next to nothing for the room. I like that I can still come here. Still sleep here.”

  “I like that, too,” Ava said.

  Knowing that she could never make him talk, she let the silence fill up the room. After a few minutes, Seth sighed.

  “Claire’s mother was an amazing woman,” Seth said. “But she was busy. Once I bought the building, Claire’s mother became the building manager. She was paid pretty well, enough to save for Claire’s college . . .”

  “Nice of you,” Ava said.

  “She wouldn’t let me help financially in any other way,” Seth said with a shrug.

  “Claire’s mother?” Ava asked, hoping she hadn’t stopped the flow of words coming from Seth.

  “As you can imagine, Claire’s mother took the responsibility of being the building manager very seriously,” Seth said. “The building was kind of a tenement, so everything was a mess. Claire’s mother was either cleaning or arranging repairs or painting or waiting tables at the diner. Then, Claire’s brother went down in a helicopter crash . . .”

  “She didn’t have a lot of time for Claire,” Ava said.

  Seth nodded.

  “Di and Susan, Bernice’s mother, were very industrious and had lots of time,” Seth said. “They doted on Claire. They taught her how to cook. The women made quilts. Bread. Big pots of amazing food. Pies from ancient recipes. They taught Claire about men,taught her to be a woman. Claire blossomed at that time. They adored Claire, and she worshipped them.”

  “I bet,” Ava said.

  Seth smiled at the memory.

  “While Bud and I worked — and believe me, the man worked me for hours, until sweat poured down my back. Sometimes we’d spend the time just doing finger pushups, hand stretches, stuff like that.”

  “Those ones you do every morning?” Ava asked.

  “Got to have stron
g fingers if you’re going to last all night,” Seth said.

  He dropped down. With his hands in the shape of a claw, fingers pressed into the carpet, he did an easy set of pushups. Standing up, Seth looked even more sad.

  “Claire, Di, and Susan laughed and talked,” Seth said. “They made dresses and read books to each other. Claire loved going up there. When Andy and I started dating, she and Claire would hang out with Di and Susan. Di loved Andy. Talked to her about the nights at the Savoy Ballroom.”

  “Did Claire stop going when you left New York?” Ava asked.

  “Bud and Di were dead by then. Di didn’t last much longer than Bud,” Seth said. “Susan was on her own, so she moved into a retirement facility. Big Daddy got into more sinister things once his parents died. That beautiful moment in time just . . . dissolved away, like it never happened.”

  Seth plopped down on the bed to think. After a minute, he looked at Ava.

  “Come to think of it,” Seth said. “Claire went to college before I left.”

  “Where’d she go?” Ava asked.

  “Well . . .” Seth blushed.

  “Yes?”

  “Claire came to Colorado the Christmas before I finished college, right after Bud and Di died,” Seth said. “I don’t think of it as her coming with me because she went up to Boulder. Schmidty I-V found a place for her to live, by the school.”

  Seth grinned to himself.

  “When I returned, I was in high school and she was in college,” Seth said and laughed. “My driver was the same guy. The one who hit me. He still lives here in Denver.”

  Ava smiled.

  “When we moved back to Colorado, she was sure that she’d never return to New York City,” Seth said. He shrugged. “Her mom had married the diner owner, who was Claire’s father’s brother, Claire’s uncle. They were very happy, in a child-free bliss. But near the end of Claire’s college, the diner owner died, Claire’s brother disappeared, and her mom got sick.”

  Ava made a soft, empathetic sound.

  “Too much grief for too long of a time, I guess,” Seth said. “Claire graduated a term early and came back here. Susan was gone by then. Died of TB. So it was just Claire and her mother.”

  “Claire left Colorado before you and Mitch went to Vietnam?” Ava asked.

  Seth gave a quick nod.

  “I didn’t see her again until I brought her brother home,” Seth said. “I mean, we wrote some. Kept in touch. Her mother died. I was at the funeral. I was in her wedding. She was in mine. Came to O’Malley’s funeral, my mother’s . . . Bonita and the boys. She stayed with me when she got divorced. I came here when I got divorced. Of course, I heard from Bernice or Big Daddy at least once month. Usually Bernice.”

  Seth nodded. He fell so silent that Ava worried that he was retreating into himself. She touched his arm to remind him that she was there.

  “I . . .” Seth said. He sighed. “How can you be so close, so very close, to people and have such intense experiences and then . . . it all just fades away?”

  Seth’s sigh was so soulful that Ava felt protective of him. She put her hand on his leg.

  “I suppose I’ll fade away someday, probably sooner than later,” Seth said. “Like Bud and Di and Susan. Bud’s teacher and inspiration was a guy called Art Tatum. Died young, like Mitch. No one even remembers Art or Bud or Di or Susan. Now, Big Daddy’s gone. No one will remember any of us.”

  “I will,” Ava said.

  Seth shook his head without looking at her. Ava’s heart broke for him, but she knew he’d stop talking if she said so.

  “Bernice is distraught,” Seth said, finally. “Her children are out of state. They don’t want anything to do with their gangster father. He raised them to be doctors, lawyers — law-abiding citizens who hate gangsters like him. Oh, they’ll come to his celebration, take his money, but help their mother with the details of everything?”

  Ava saw tears form in Seth’s eyes. He shook his head at his own emotions.

  “She would never ask, either,” Seth said. “She . . .”

  “What will she do?” Ava couldn’t keep herself from asking.

  “I don’t know,” Seth said. “Move in with her eldest daughter, probably. She doesn’t want to. She’s lived her whole life in this city. She doesn’t want to move now. I think it would kill her.”

  “Could she move in here?” Ava asked. She gestured to the apartment. “I know you’re here now, but you don’t live here. We can always stay in hotels when we come.”

  Seth watched Ava’s face for a few moments.

  “Do you need the money from these apartments?” Ava asked.

  “The building’s paid off,” Seth said. “We just pay taxes and upkeep. The rent more than covers that, plus Claire’s fee for taking care of the place.”

  “Let’s talk to Claire,” Ava said. “I’m sure she’d love the chance to take care of Bernice. Return the favor.”

  “Seems like a lot to ask,” Seth said.

  “She can say ‘No,’” Ava said.

  Seth’s eyes never left her face. When she looked at him, he shrugged.

  “Would you like me to ask her?” Ava asked.

  “Claire already asked me if it would be all right if Bernice moved in,” Seth said. “There’s an apartment upstairs that’ll be vacant at the end of the month. Bernice would have a view of the river and an extra bedroom for her children and grandchildren to visit. I just . . . It just seems like a lot to ask. Of Claire, I mean.”

  Ava smiled at his concern. He shook his head.

  “Big Daddy’s estate is a mess,” Seth said. In a very low voice, he added, “It wouldn’t surprise me if the Feds come and take every penny. There are gangsters from all over the world converging here to split up Harlem. I’ve been dealing with the NYPD since Big Daddy died. Nature abhors a vacuum.”

  Ava raised her eyebrows. Seth nodded.

  “Big Daddy must have some Fed on the inside, but now . . .” Seth said.

  “Then, Bernice needs to be here,” Ava said.

  “You mean, we should take in another stray?” Seth asked.

  “Didn’t her mother and mother-in-law take you in when you needed it?” Ava asked.

  “They did,” Seth said. “I just wondered if you would be okay with, you know, paying for everything for her.”

  “Can we afford it?” Ava asked.

  “We’d have to talk to Sandy, but I’d guess so,” Seth nodded.

  “Oh, I see. You mean, should we take care of her because she’s a mobster’s wife?” Ava asked. Seth nodded. “My mother was a mobster’s wife. And we still help her.”

  Seth chuckled. The moment shifted, and Seth’s sadness returned.

  “I’ll talk to Claire,” Seth said.

  Ava nodded. She kissed his cheek, and he smiled.

  “I have to go,” Seth said. “I hate to just dump all of this and run.”

  “That’s okay,” Ava said. “Claire asked me to help move Bernice’s personal belongings into storage here. Sandy’s kids will be here in a bit to help with the big stuff. Claire’s moving Bernice into a hotel until things settle.”

  Seth smiled.

  “You knew all about this,” Seth said.

  “I knew that Claire loved Bernice and wanted to help her,” Ava said. “I didn’t know about you and Bud and Di and . . . everything. Thank you for telling me.”

  Seth got up from the bed. Standing in front of her, Seth smiled.

  “Thanks for letting me talk,” Seth said.

  Seth nodded and left the room. After a minute or so, Ava heard him leave the apartment. She nodded to herself. This was going to be a long weekend. She needed to be ready for anything.

  Chapter Four Hundred and Fifty-one

  New and old friends

  Friday evening — 4:10 p.m.

  New York City, New York

  “Bud called me,” Bernie said. He bent over to pick up his dress shoes from his suitcase “Ugh — I am feeling that yoga class.”
<
br />   Maresol smiled at his back. They were getting dressed early to help Claire with the dinner party.

  “Living with Seth requires a certain lifestyle,” Maresol said.

  “You’re telling me,” Bernie said with a laugh.

  He grinned at her.

  “I am not a lifestyle option,” Maresol said with a smile.

  He laughed.

  “You were telling me about Seth and Big Daddy,” Maresol said.

  “That’s right,” Bernie said.

  He started to put on a shoe.

  “Pants first,” Maresol said, evenly, knowing that Bud had been a little off since they found out about Big Daddy.

  “I am distracted,” Bernie said. He untied the shoe and took it off. “Talking about good people who are long gone, I guess.”

  Maresol touched his shoulder. She pointed to his suit, which was lying on their hotel bed. He started by pulling on the suit pants.

  “I met Bud when I was . . . Oh, I don’t know . . .” Bernie said. “Before the war but after meeting Seth’s mom. Bud was . . .”

  Bernie stopped talking and sat down on the bed. Maresol sat down next to him.

  “Bud was a force of nature,” Bernie said. “You should have seen him. He’d play until his breath was ragged, his fingers burning, and he was wet through and through with sweat. And then he’d play some more. He’d have the entire floor of the Savoy Ballroom rocking from people dancing. He was fearless — musically and in life. He’d been in World War I; he was the son of a slave; he . . .”

  Bernie fell silent thinking about the man.

  “Anyway, I was trying to track down my wife and children when I got a call from Bud,” Bernie said. “‘Bernie,’ he says, ‘do you have a son?’ I say, ‘Sure’ — thinking of Saul, you know. ‘Why?’ ‘There’s a boy here who wants me to teach him how to play jazz piano,’ he says. ‘Looks just like you.’ Well, I was floored. I knew that it couldn’t be Saul.”

  “Why not Saul?” Maresol asked.

  “Oh, Saul,” Bernie said. “He was always rushing out to live life. We could never get him to sit down anywhere, let alone at a piano. Saul was brave and wild — all at the same time.”

  Bernie turned to look at Maresol.