by Mary Monroe
“All . . . right,” Willie Frank mumbled before he slunk to the other side of the room with a hangdog look on his face.
I walked over and stood next to Annie Pearl, one of Aunt Mattie’s most popular “employees” for the past ten years.
“I’m surprised Joyce and Odell ain’t here tonight,” Annie Pearl commented, standing in the middle of the floor, with a drink in one hand and a plate in the other. Even though she was forty, she was so good at whatever she did, tricks had to make appointments to be with her several days in advance. With her thick dark brown hair in a French roll, just a smidgen of make-up, and her simple brown corduroy jumper, she looked more like a preacher’s wife than a prostitute.
But the one that really stood out was Tiny: a cute, baby-faced, four-foot-tall midget with enough attitude for a woman three times her height. All the men she serviced raved about the mean blow jobs she gave.
“I seen Joyce peeping out her window when we rolled up. I still can’t figure out what a man like Odell see in her,” Tiny snickered, flopping down on the arm of the couch. “I wonder what she would say if she knew what a frisky dog he was before he married her. When he worked as our handyman and lived in the house with us, he’d lick—”
Aunt Mattie cut her off real quick. “Hush your mouth, you little heifer! I done told y’all not to be putting my customers’ business in the street.”
“Pffft! Aunt Mattie, when was Odell ever a ‘customer’?” Tiny hollered. “He never paid to do the hoochie coochie with us. I guess he thought that because he was working for you at the time, he didn’t have to.”
“Humph! Speak for yourself. He paid me two dollars up front every time, like all my other tricks,” Annie Pearl gloated. “But he is so damn good looking, I did let him hit it for free on his birthday and Christmas.”
“Yvonne, the next time you see Odell, tell him I said if Joyce ever slack up on her bedroom job, to let me know,” Aunt Mattie piped in. She snorted and looked dead at Annie Pearl. “And make sure you tell him I don’t care how good looking he is, so he won’t be getting nothing else free at my house.”
The folks close enough to hear Aunt Mattie’s comments laughed long and loud. Even with the ruckus going on around me, all I could think about was how overjoyed I was that I’d be showing my babies a good time real soon. And that Joyce would be paying for it.
CHAPTER 20
MILTON
I WAS PLEASED TO SEE EVERYBODY HAVING SUCH A GOOD TIME. DR. Patterson, the sharp-featured general practitioner that lived four houses down the block from us, shuffled up to me as I opened the front window to let in some fresh air.
“I declare, Milton. I have to hand it to you and Yvonne. I haven’t had so much fun since I was in college. If y’all don’t have any plans for Thanksgiving, I’d like to invite y’all to eat supper at my house. Eloise is going to bake a turkey, a rump roast, and a coon, so there’ll be plenty to eat. She told me to make sure I asked you before we leave here tonight.” No doctor had ever gave me so much respect. I had never even dreamed I’d be socializing with a man like Dr. Patterson, let alone having supper with him and his family in his house. I wished my mama and daddy had lived long enough to see how far up the ladder I had climbed.
“We would love to eat Thanksgiving supper with you and your family next month. I’ll even make some sweet potato pies to bring!” I damn near swooned. “Yvonne will be tickled to death when I tell her.”
When Dr. Patterson went off to conversate with somebody else, I rushed across the room to where Yvonne was standing. “Baby, Dr. Patterson invited us to have Thanksgiving supper with him and his family.”
She reacted the way I thought she would. “Sure enough? Well, I hope you told him we’d be there!” She grinned.
“I did.”
We was beaming like glowworms. Nobody could have told me that we wasn’t on our way to the kind of respectability we had always wanted. The last holiday invitation we got had come from Joyce and Odell back in July. They’d wanted us to join them for a cookout in their backyard to celebrate the Fourth. That had got canceled because of a storm. But Joyce had cooked some ribs in the oven, and we’d had a good supper, anyway. The main reason I didn’t hesitate to accept the good doctor’s invitation was that I didn’t think we’d get one from nobody else, not even Joyce and Odell. With the way things was going between me and him now, I knew he didn’t enjoy my company no more. Sometimes when I took a gander at him from the corner of my eye, he’d be looking at me like he wanted to beat me into a spasm. I hoped that after enough time had passed, he’d be as comfortable with our financial arrangement as I was.
When our last guest left a few minutes before 1:00 a.m., we recycled the leftover alcohol right away so it wouldn’t have time to go flat. We laughed every time we did that, because in some cases, we resold part of the same drink so many times, we lost count. After we finished tidying up, we sat on the couch and cuddled.
Suddenly, Yvonne huffed out a loud breath. “Baby, I just thought of something. What if Joyce and Odell invite us to eat with them on Thanksgiving?”
“We’ll have to tell them we already made plans. Maybe we can skip bootlegging on Christmas Day and invite Joyce and Odell to eat supper at our house.”
“You know we can’t do that. We make more money on that holiday than any other day in the year, and I ain’t giving that up for nobody.” Yvonne’s voice sounded tired, but she sure wasn’t acting tired. She was a little more affectionate than usual. She kissed the side of my neck and rubbed between my thighs at the same time.
It never took much to get me fired up. My pecker felt as hard as a rock. I started humping and moaning, and she stroked harder. “Take it easy, sugar. I ain’t as young as I used to be. I can’t keep pleasuring you almost every night, like I been doing since we met.”
Yvonne had been giving me sexy looks all evening. She was hotter than a six-shooter now. But for some reason, she decided to let me off the hook tonight. She stopped rubbing me and pulled her hand away. “Just hold on tight to me, then. I’m feeling down in the dumps tonight and kind of lonely.”
“You ain’t got no reason to be feeling lonely. I’m here, and we just had a houseful of company. We made a pretty penny tonight, so that ought to have you jumping for joy. I’ll put tonight’s profits with the rest of our funds first thing in the morning.”
Like a lot of folks, we didn’t deal with banks. We kept our cash in a cigar box up under a pile of old clothes in the attic. The way banks was treating folks these days, I wouldn’t trust them to hold a plugged nickel for me. Years ago, my parents had stashed away a couple hundred bucks in Branson First National. When they died, them crooks refused to give that money to my other relatives because the beneficiary my parents had listed was my uncle Jadoo. He had disappeared a week after my parents died. Every colored person in town was convinced that the Klan had done away with him. He hadn’t picked up his last paycheck, took none of his clothes or his old car with him, so we knowed he was dead. Because there was no proof, the bank refused to release the money. Nobody in my family could afford to hire a lawyer, so that was the end of that—unless Uncle Jadoo turned up to claim it someday. I was tickled to death when I heard that Branson First National was one of the first banks to crash when the Great Depression hit.
Yvonne cut into my thoughts with a sharp tone. “Make sure you cover up that money good.”
“You know I will. Now, what’s this about you feeling down in the dumps and lonely?”
“Joyce said some things that hurt my feelings.”
“Again?”
“Yes, again.” She went on to tell me everything that Joyce had said to her yesterday and everything she had said to Joyce.
“Well, at least you gave her a taste of her own medicine,” I chuckled. “I wish I could have seen the expression on her face when you asked where a woman her size bought her clothes. But I wish you wouldn’t keep getting upset about some of the stupid comments that come out of her mouth. You know by now s
he ain’t as sharp as we thought she was.”
“Joyce ain’t a slow wit. She wouldn’t have a job working in a school with kids and teachers if she didn’t have all her marbles.”
Yvonne laid her head on my shoulder, and I raked my fingers through her hair as I spoke. “That don’t mean nothing, sugar. The dumbest dog can be trained to do just about anything a person can do. Joyce ain’t no exception. I suspect she got that job because she always had the right people in her corner and she was easy to train. You ever thought about that? If that is the case, you ought to feel sorry for her. That poor woman might be mentally off kilter. A condition like that could cause her to be snooty, thoughtless, gullible, and God knows what else.”
“Could be, could be. Especially when it come to Odell.”
“Damn right. I bet he could tell her black is white and she’d believe him.”
“I bet she would, too. But she’d never have to worry about nothing like that. Odell ain’t the type.”
“What do you mean by that, Yvonne?”
“For one thing, he would never do nothing that he’d have to lie about. I wish—”
I didn’t waste no time interrupting Yvonne. “You wish what?”
“Sometimes I wish you was more like Odell.”
My body stiffened, and I stopped raking Yvonne’s hair. Not only was I hurt, but I was mad, too. “I ain’t never going to be no Prince Charming, like he think he is. You stuck with a frog prince . . .”
“No, you ain’t no frog! Don’t low-rate yourself like that!” she hollered.
“Well, the way you keep rubbing Odell’s glory in my face, you make me feel like one.”
“I’m sorry,” she claimed, speaking in a baby voice. “Even if you was a frog, I’d still love you. And I mean that from the bottom of my heart.”
Hearing that made me feel better. I wanted to stop conversating before she backtracked and let out something else I didn’t like. “We better get some sleep. It’s been a long day, and me and Willie Frank got more orders to drop off in the morning.”
CHAPTER 21
MILTON
WHEN WE GOT IN THE BED, YVONNE WENT TO SLEEP RIGHT AWAY. I had so much on my mind, I was wide awake for at least another hour. Me and Willie Frank figured Oscar had found out by now he’d been robbed, so we was going to wait a few days to give him time to cool off. Then we would sell his property to a colored farmer named Eugene Scruggs. He lived in a little town called Schenly, a few miles from Branson. I had never met him, but Willie Frank had run into him during one of his recent visits to Aunt Mattie’s house. They’d hit it off right away. That wasn’t the only thing on my mind, though, and it wasn’t bothering me as much as what Yvonne had said about wishing I was more like Odell. Sometimes I wished I was more like Odell. But she had stomped on my ego enough already, so I would never admit that to her.
When I got up at 8:00 a.m. on Sunday morning, Yvonne was already in the kitchen, boiling grits and frying a mess of cow brains, my favorite breakfast. She cooked these mouthwatering treats only when she was trying to butter me up.
“Good morning, sugar,” she cooed when I went up to her and wrapped my arms around her waist. Her sweet tone told me she was up to something. I didn’t hold her too tight, because I didn’t want to get a hard-on and have to tote her back to the bedroom. “You sleep good?”
“Yup.” I moved a few steps away and nodded toward the food cooking on the stove. “What is it you want me to do this time?” I teased.
“Huh? Why you asking me that?”
“Because that’s the main reason you would be cooking such a scrumptious breakfast without me asking you to. I thought we ate the last of them cow brains last Tuesday.”
“Oh, didn’t I tell you?”
“Tell me what?” I narrowed my eyes and moved a few more steps away from her.
“Odell dropped off some the other evening, while you and Willie Frank was making deliveries to them white bootleggers on the north side.”
“That was mighty neighborly of him.” I tried not to sound sarcastic, but I did. “I wonder why he didn’t mention that to me. How many other times has he ‘dropped off’ stuff that I don’t know about?”
Yvonne pursed her lips and gave me a thoughtful look. “Let me see . . . oh!” She snapped her fingers. “Last week he brung over some buttermilk and a bucket of lard. Something about him having to unload surplus stuff he didn’t have enough room for.” There was suddenly a dreamy-eyed look on her face. “You know, I used to get pissed off with Odell when he was bragging or acting snooty. But that don’t bother me so much now.”
“Oh? And why is that?” I folded my arms and gaped at her from the corner of my eye.
“Well, he still brags about everything he got and is as uppity as ever. And he usually show up in a dark suit, looking like a undertaker, when most of our other men guests have on overalls. Even them doctors and the real undertaker that was here the other night. But at the same time, lately, he seems more mellow. I’m sure he’s just itching to help polish you up. You want some gravy on your grits?”
“I don’t want no gravy!” I snapped, with my hands on my hips and my chest getting tight. “I want to hear why you think I need to be ‘polished up’ in the first place. You make me sound like a rusty nail!”
Yvonne wagged in my face the long-handled spoon that she’d been stirring the grits with. “Why, Milton Hamilton, if I didn’t know no better, I’d swear you was jealous of Odell. And that’s a damn shame. He almost as good a friend to you now as Willie Frank.”
To be as hot as I was, I managed to keep my cool. “Ain’t nobody as good a friend to me as Willie Frank! And I ain’t jealous of nobody!” I boomed. “Especially a sissified, mealymouthed sucker like Odell.”
Yvonne glared at me like I’d stole her purse. “If I had some lye soap, I’d use it to wash out your mouth. You need to give Odell a little more credit for being a friend and a good neighbor. I thought we agreed that we’d be real nice to them—at least to their faces—so we could get more out of them. More stuff from the store and loans when we run short.”
“Um, you right, baby. I was just blowing off steam. But when you high-rate other men, I feel lower than a snake’s belly.”
Yvonne laid the spoon on the stove. Next thing I knew, she grabbed my hand, led me to the table, and pulled out a chair. She pushed me down in it and stood in front of me, with one hand on her hip, the other one wagging a finger in my face. “Milton, you want us to have a nice car, a telephone, and a few other things that we can’t afford. We can’t get all that unless we rob a bank, which I wouldn’t even consider doing after what happened to that Bonnie and Clyde a few years ago. Remember how gruesome they looked in that newspaper clipping your cousin sent you from Louisiana a few days after they got shot up?”
I still had that newspaper clipping. I carried it around in my wallet and took it out to gaze at every time I thought about doing something as crazy as robbing a bank. “Yeah,” I sighed, rubbing the pocket where I kept my wallet. “I don’t want nothing bad enough to do something that stupid.”
“The only way we might get all the things we want is with help from somebody. Now, if Dr. Patterson was to take us under his wing, he might be a good prospect to set up. But his four grown kids and that wife would be a problem, so I ain’t going to hold my breath. Meanwhile, Joyce and Odell is still our best shot at the good life.”
I dipped my head and gave Yvonne a sorry look. “You right, but I wish you wouldn’t keep reminding me what Odell is and what I ain’t.”
“Baby, it ain’t no big deal. I’m sure there is a bunch of other colored men that wish they could be more like Odell. After all, he is damn near perfect.”
Yvonne’s recent “fascination” with Odell had caught me off guard. I hoped it was just a short-term phase she was going through, because I didn’t like it one bit. I knew that if I didn’t change the subject, I’d say something I’d regret. “You cooking up something else besides them grits and brains? Why d
on’t you tell me what it is?”
She giggled before she answered. “I want you to be in a good mood today.”
“Why?”
“I didn’t want to tell you before now, but Aunt Nadine sent a letter last week. She said she and Uncle Sherman might drop off my kids one day soon so they can spend some time with me.”
“So? Why do you think I need to be in a good mood to see your babies? I know how much you miss them.”
“Because I know most men don’t want to be bothered with another man’s children. In my case, three other men.”
“Sugar, I knew before we got married that you had them kids. It didn’t bother me then, and it don’t bother me now.” I exhaled and scratched the side of my neck. “If they spend the night, we can borrow Willie Frank’s truck and take them back home.”
Yvonne nodded. “I’m glad to hear you say that. The only thing is, if they come on a weekday, I’ll have to take off from work and give up a whole day’s pay. That’s money we’d have to make up for some other way. I don’t want our guests to start paying more for their drinks, since we ain’t been in business that long.” Yvonne chuckled. “Especially since we already scamming so many folks with recycled drinks. But my daughter’s birthday was back in July, and I didn’t get to spend it with her. I might even bake a cake if they come so I could make up for that. And in the meantime, maybe you could borrow a few more dollars from Odell to have to fall back on in case some unexpected expense come up while the kids here.”
“I don’t know about borrowing from Odell too often. He might say no.” Whatever money me and Willie Frank got when we sold the stuff we took from Oscar’s barn, my share was already spent. I still owed Aunt Mattie a couple more dollars for the poontang and blow jobs I’d added to my tab last month. And in the past three weeks I’d lost quite a bit in every card game I got in. So, I was a little behind with everything.