Gathering Storm

by Sherilyn Decter

  “Gumbo. Mr. Darwin tell me how to cook. No shrimp. But I use sausage and chicken.”

  She notices the large pot on the back of the stove. “Looks like we have gumbo for a small army.”

  “We’re going to serve it tonight in Gator Joe’s, Miz Edith. Going to be a restaurant,” Leroy says, scraping the onions into the pot, where they sizzle.

  “Leroy, why don’t you write down all the ingredients and then we’ll figure out how much to charge for a bowl. I’ll go make up a sign. Gator’s Gumbo has a nice ring. And then you can help me finish setting up.”

  Edith returns to the barroom to get ready for opening. A short while later, when Leroy doesn’t join her, she follows the rich tomato smells of the gumbo back into the kitchen.

  Leroy hasn’t moved. He’s still at the table, peppering Lucky with questions about China.

  “All his family lives in China, Miz Edith. He’s all alone here in America, like you and me. Can I go to China? People live on boats. And boys shave their heads except for one long pigtail that hangs down the back. I wouldn’t want to shave my head. But I’d still like to go to China. Lucky has four brothers. If I went, I would say hi for you, Lucky.”

  Lucky turns around and smiles at Leroy. “Good. Good.” His eyes meet Edith’s.

  “Lucky has lots to do if we’re going to be ready to serve our gumbo in the bar. You scoot and let him finish, Leroy.”

  “I don’t want to go.” Leroy remains in the chair.

  “Did you make that list I asked you?”

  “No.”

  “And I had to unstack the chairs myself.”

  Leroy pouts and looks away.

  “We open in thirty minutes. You still have sawdust in your hair. Go wash up then start filling the cooler,” Edith says, arms crossed and foot tapping.

  “I want to stay and talk to Lucky.”

  “I said scoot. Now.” Edith claps her hands together to underscore the point.

  “You can’t tell me what to do. You’re not my mother,” Leroy says, stomping out the back door to the liquor shed.

  Edith catches Lucky looking at her. “Boy needs father,” he says.

  “Probably. But he’s not getting one, so he’ll just have to make do with me.”

  “You good shot with gun.”

  “I’ve had practice,” Edith says.

  Lucky nods. “Heart of a tiger.”

  “Ha. My late husband always called me Kitten.”

  “Maybe you need new husband.”

  “And maybe you need to watch that gumbo so it doesn’t scorch on the bottom.” Edith taps her nose.

  With a flood of Cantonese, Lucky turns and frantically stirs the boiling gumbo.

  A kitten with the heart of a tiger. What do you think of that, Mickey Duffy?

  Chapter 59

  T he gumbo is a hit, and Lucky keeps a pot on the back of the stove for the rest of the week. “This is almost as good as my mama’s, Miz Edith,” Harley says, wiping his beard.

  “What other things do you think we should serve?” Edith asks. Gator’s barroom is almost as full as it was on the weekend with the live music.

  The folks around the table where Harley is sitting chime in with suggestions: shrimp, conch, oysters—when you can get them—and pork, pork, and pork. There are also numerous local favorite chicken dishes.

  “Apparently, Gator Joe’s has a hungry as well as a thirsty crowd,” Edith laughs as she shares the list with Leroy back behind the bar.

  “All that sounds really good. I can catch opossum if you like. Aunt Cassie makes a powerful good opossum stew,” Leroy says, carrying a tray of empty glasses into the kitchen.

  “I’ll check with the crowd to see how they feel about opossum. From the sounds of it, if you can catch it, and Lucky can cook it, this crowd will eat it.” She reaches into her pocket and pulls out a tarot card. “I found this in my bedroom when I was getting dressed tonight. Do you know anything about it?”

  Leroy shrugs. “I can tell you what it means, Miz Edith.”

  “Save it for later, after closing. Right now, stack these empties by the shed and fill up that cooler again. I hope we’re not running out of root beer or ‘shine. Those Black Jack’s Rootshines are mighty popular. We’ll need to go back to Jeb and restock.”

  It’s a busy night, and the chairs are upside down on the tables. The floors are swept by the time Edith has time to ask Leroy about the card. She was beginning to think her secret fortune teller had forgotten her.

  In what has become a nightly ritual, Edith and Leroy are sitting on the veranda. Darwin sometimes joins them, although tonight he went down to the boat after they’d locked up. Lucky has washed up the bowls from the gumbo and is curled up on his cot in the corner of the kitchen. Edith had offered him a spot in the barn, but he preferred the kitchen and a bit of distance from Leroy’s constant chatter and snoring.

  Leroy, a cold cola in front of him, studies the card. “This here lady is rich. See her nice clothes. The bird on her hand is a falcon. She’s standing in a vineyard. These nine yellow stars are coins or pentacles. Aunt Cassie says these six coins are for her to keep, and these three over here are to give away.”

  Edith sips her martini. Bless Mae for bringing those olives. “Okay, but what does it mean, smarty-pants?”

  “The lady is probably you. You’re rich and successful. You planted the grapes and have a good life.”

  “Grapes and Gator’s. Makes sense. Although I don’t feel quite that rich yet. There’s a good offer on the house in Philadelphia that should close soon. That will help.”

  “It also means you need to stop and enjoy what you have. You’ve worked hard and now you have to—what does Cassie say? Yeah, enjoy the fruits of your labors. See, the fruits are grapes—”

  “I get it, Leroy. The card says that I should pause and enjoy the grapes of my labors.”

  Leroy snorts. “That’s funny.”

  “Anything else besides being one of the idle rich?”

  Leroy taps the card, serious. “Well, this means the riches are yours. You earned them. That makes you independent.”

  “True enough, although I think it’s because everybody’s working hard that we’re doing so well. Time is flying and we’ve not really taken a breath to remember what it was like just a month and a half ago when we first opened. And now that Lucky’s here, we have a restaurant idea to explore. We’ve been looking after thirsty customers and now we’ll be able to look after hungry ones, too. He’s a good addition. Anything else?”

  “Nope.”

  “Then off to bed you go. You have a spot in the barn that’s not covered by wood shavings and sawdust to sleep?”

  “I moved into the back corner, away from the mess. Say, Miz Edith, when the room is done, can we go to Miami and pick out a bed? Mr. Darwin’s going to build me a bookcase, but I’d love a real bed to lie in and read.”

  Edith ruffles his hair. “Sure, kiddo. Maybe we’ll find you a desk, too. You deserve a chance to enjoy the grapes of your labors, too.”

  * * * *

  On her way back from reading cards and picking up provisions in Coconut Grove, Cassie watches Gator Joe’s from the edge of the mangrove thicket. Leroy did a good job on that card. The boy will be ready to start doing readings on his own soon. I’m glad he’s settling in. Things are going smoother now that those Wharf Rats have been leaving her alone.

  I haven’t seen Brother Silas around much either. Yes, it was a good decision to let Leroy live here. My Koone’s growing up.

  Chapter 60

  T hree large touring sedans pull into the parking space at the end of the road to Gator Joe’s. The grandest of them is a brilliant turquoise with the chrome from four side exhaust pipes, bumpers, wire wheels, and headlights glittering. Bug-eyed headlights sweep the path. The wide-whites gleam in the light cast by the string of electric lights running from the parking pad down to Gator’s veranda.

  All four doors of the first car open and out step four large, muscled men in
dark suits and fedoras, two with tommy guns. The two with the choppers stand alert on either side of the car, peering into the darkness of the mangrove forest on either side of the road. The other two follow the strand of lightbulbs down to Gator Joe’s.

  Shortly, one appears on the small porch at the rear of Gator’s to take up his post. The other returns to stand on the edge of the large front veranda that faces the ocean and puts two fingers in his mouth, giving a sharp whistle.

  The driver’s door on the turquoise sedan opens and the driver steps out and then holds open the rear door. A foot, a trousered leg, then Meyer Lansky is standing looking at Gator Joe’s, rolling his shoulders to work out kinks from the drive from Miami. He reaches in and guides Anna and then Mae from the car. Doors slam in the third sedan and more muscle flanks the trio of gangster royalty.

  * * * *

  Leroy is lookout at the screen door, ready to open it for their special guests. It’s a Friday night and one of Mae’s bands is onstage. The crowd in the room is restless, eyeing the door, whispering to one another. Since the first gangster arrived to alert Edith about the visitors, word has flown round the room that New York mobster, Meyer Lansky, is there. Customers at a table at the front have been moved to make room for the new guests.

  Edith comes out of her bedroom, patting her hair, having freshened her lipstick and taken off her apron. Darwin is behind the bar, his hat with the snakeskin band and gator teeth tucked below the bar counter—Edith’s gun underneath the hat.

  Leroy begins to bounce. Edith signals that Meyer is close. Grinning, Leroy swings open the door with a flourish. Meyer reaches down and ruffles the boy’s hair, then steps into the room. Time pauses then restarts. The people in the room quickly look away, suddenly intensely interested in their drinks. The band picks up the tempo that had slowed during the entrance.

  “Mae, Meyer, Anna. Welcome to Gator Joe’s,” Edith says, giving out hugs and kisses all round.

  “I’ve heard lots about your joint, doll. Mae talks about it non-stop. Had to see it for myself.” Meyer Lanksy looks like the accountant mob legends report him to be. Thin body, thin face, thin hair, long nose.

  Edith links her arm through Meyer’s and leads the group to a table that has been cleared and cleaned at the front of the house. The four goons and the three VIPs look around the place, curious. Anna smiles and points out the alligator on the wall above the bar.

  “What can I get you? Our house special tonight is Black Jack’s Rootshine. It’s a mix of root beer and some pretty good local moonshine.”

  Meyer turns to the ladies and waits for them to order. “You still got some olives, sweetie? I’d love a martini,” Mae says.

  Anna nods. “Make that two. I’m not sure I’m up for moonshine.”

  “Well, I think the boys and I will try it. It’s been a while since I’ve had moonshine, and never from the Everglades. Whadda ya say, fellas? Want to taste the local hooch?” The four men shift their shoulder holsters to get comfortable, and nod.

  The familiar gangster who had accompanied the bands and appeared on opening night pipes up. “Hey boss, you gotta try one of them fireballs. You won’t believe it.”

  “All right, five fireballs, doll,” Lansky says with a wink.

  Edith retreats to the bar and gets Darwin working on the fireballs while she mixes the martinis. Mae joins her.

  “I hope you don’t mind the surprise visit. It was a spur of the moment thing.”

  “No, it’s great to see you. All of you. Even Anna.”

  “After all your stories about Wharf Rats, I thought we should come fly the flag. How are things on that front, by the way?”

  “Pretty quiet. We haven’t had any more trouble since our pre-dawn deliveries last month, touch wood. Things are going so smoothly that sometimes I even forget to lock the door.”

  “Don’t go getting cocky, now. I’m glad to hear their little trouble with the Coast Guard knocked some sense into them, although it still never hurts to let folks know you got friends. Special friends.”

  Edith comes around the bar and wraps her arms around Mae. “Thank you, Mae. You’re the special kinda friend a gal-in-need needs most.”

  “Oh, pooh, doll. You put up with the crap of being married to the mob all those years with Mickey, you might as well enjoy some of the benefits. It should help you get a bit of respect from the locals.” Mae winks, grabs the two martinis, and makes her way back to the table.

  Edith loads the fireballs onto her tray and, with a nod at Leroy who’s standing next to the lights, the room goes dark except for five flaming drinks.

  The crowd oohs and ahhs and, when the lights come back on, Lansky is on his feet, applauding. “Outstanding, Edith. If it’s okay with you, I gotta add this to the lineup at the casinos. The crowds are gonna go nuts when they see it.”

  Out of the corner of her eye, Edith sees Billy Shaw trying to catch her attention.

  “Billy, another round?”

  “Miz Edith, can you do me and Harley here a favor. We’d really like to meet Mr. Lansky. We heard about him and what a big cheese he is up north. And they always make a big deal about him when he’s in Miami. We won’t be a pest. I just wanna tell the guys back on base that I got a chance to say hi.”

  “I’m not sure that he’d want the Coast Guard knowing he’s here, Billy.”

  “Are you kidding me? Look at this crowd. Words already getting out that we got a celebrity in town. Come on, Miz Edith. Please?”

  * * * *

  Buford and Everett confer in the car parked just off the road to Coconut Grove. Through the trees, they’re watching the goons guarding the three sedans in Gator’s car park. They can also see a guard on the back porch.

  “What do you think that’s all about?” Everett asks. He watches the tommy guns closely, enviously.

  “How the heck should I know?” Buford says, scowling. “This certainly screws up tonight’s robbery. Ain’t no way we’re going in there now.”

  “The Boss said to get it done. We could wait until they leave,” Everett says.

  “We weren’t expecting this. A ‘disturbing new development’ like they say on them radio dramas my wife likes to listen to. I don’t know what this means, but we need to find out before we do anything.” He starts the car and backs out. “After that stunt with the booze, it’s obvious the dame’s got hidden talents. Send Jackson round along the beach and come up through the front. Does the dame know what Jackson looks like?”

  “I dunno.”

  “Tell him to grab somebody coming out and find out who’s in there. Nothing too rough. Just get some names. We’ll let the Boss figure this out.”

  Pulling into Coconut Grove, Buford shakes his head. “It’s just crazy, ya know. All this money she’s making that we don’t get a taste of. And she’s pulling the crowd from our regular joints. It’s just plain stupid.”

  * * * *

  “What do you think of the place?” Edith asks, standing at the screen door with Meyer and his men. The two gals have slipped out to the toilet before the drive back to Miami.

  “It’s got potential, Edith. When you first said you were going to do this, I thought you were nuts. And I thought it would take much longer. I can’t believe how much you’ve accomplished in a short time. Then again, you always got what you wanted sooner than later. The only thing missing is some slots.”

  “I’ve thought about it, but I’ve nowhere to put them, unless I close in one end of the veranda, and I don’t want to do that.”

  “You ever figure it out, you be sure to give me a shout. I can hook you up.”

  Edith hugs him. “Thanks, Meyer. And thanks for sending the muscle with the band. I notice he’s been here a couple of times. Keeping an eye on me?”

  “It’s something Mickey woulda done for me. And Mae’s mentioned that you’re having some trouble with a local bunch of thugs. Just say the word and I’ll look after it for you.”

  “Already looked after, Meyer, but thanks. Again. For ev
erything.”

  Meyer looks around the room again, seeing the people, recognizing a few folks from Miami. “This place is going to be a regular gold mine. You need a partner?”

  Edith chuckles. “Thanks, but so far I seem to be doing okay on my own.”

  “You are indeed.” Meyer takes one last look around as the women join them. “Ready to go, doll?” he says, reaching for Anna’s arm.

  Anna nods to Edith. “Next round of improvements, you’ll need to come up with something better than an outhouse, Edith. The Gator Joe’s adventure shouldn’t include where a gal’s gotta tinkle.”

  “I’ll add it to the list, Anna.” Edith pecks her raised cheek. Turning, she wraps her arms around Mae. “I can’t thank you enough for coming. It means the world to me.”

  Mae pats her on the cheek. “You just remember what I said.”

  “You wanna go far, go together. I remember. I’ll be in Miami soon. I promised Leroy I’d buy him a bed and a desk now that he’s getting a real room. I’ll call and we can meet for lunch.”

  “It’s a date. Or better yet, I can come shopping with you. We’ll spend the day. It’s been ages since Sonny was a boy and I got to go shopping for little-boy things. Leroy is a sweet kid. It’ll be fun.”

  “Let’s go, girls,” Meyer says, tapping his watch.

  “Thanks again, Meyer.”

  “It’s a swell little place you got here. I was serious. You ever need a partner, call me.”

  Edith and Leroy wave from the veranda as the sedans pull away.

  “What do you think of Mr. Lansky?” Edith asks, her arm around Leroy’s shoulder.

  “He gave me a dollar. Told me to be good. I just kinda stayed out of his way.”

  “Good idea. You don’t want to ever get too close to Meyer Lansky.”

  Chapter 61

  S wallows dart between the rafters of the Wharf Rat’s barn. Chairs are empty sentinels for the action expected later tonight. Buford and the Boss lurk next to the big chair. Buford runs a jerky hand through his hair, his brow knotted.