Over the Fence

by Mary Monroe

  “For one thing, they connected to Cap and some of them other rough jook joints and bootleggers,” Odell pointed out.

  “Lyla and Emmalou could be the reason you got jumped, Milton,” Joyce said, giving me a hopeless look. “You notice nobody bothered you before they started coming here.”

  “Pffft! Business is business. I know y’all noticed how giddy the men was here tonight, when they danced with Lyla and Emmalou,” I argued.

  “Lyla had a fling with Cap, and he still got the hots for her. If a colored man is crazy enough to risk his life to be with a white woman, there ain’t no telling what else he might do to somebody that’s taking her attention away from him,” Odell warned.

  “Milton, don’t forget it’s against the law in this state for colored men to get too close to white women,” Joyce added.

  “It’s against the law in this state to bootleg, but I ain’t going to stop doing it.” I laughed and turned to Odell with a self-satisfied smirk on my face. I said the next words real slow and clear so he could know they was meant just for him. “Folks, especially men, will do whatever they want to do as long as they don’t get caught.” I liked to mess with him, because it was fun to watch him squirm whenever I threw a Betty Jean hint at him. “Ain’t that right, Odell?”

  “Right,” he mumbled, with his jaw twitching. His contempt for me was so thick, it would take a machete to cut through it.

  CHAPTER 47

  YVONNE

  MILTON DIDN’T MIND HAVING A FEW SMALL BAND-AIDS ON HIS face. But he didn’t want to wear that bandage wrapped around his head when he went back to work on Friday. He was too vain to go out in public wearing something like that. He said it made him feel self-conscious. He wore a stocking cap instead.

  Mr. Cunningham and all our coworkers was thrilled that Milton was back. We got so busy right away, me and him didn’t even take no breaks. That impressed Mr. Cunningham even more. At five minutes to 4:00 p.m. he came up to me in the dining area, grinning from ear to ear.

  “Yvonne, go out to the kitchen and tell Milton I said for you and him to go home a hour early. I appreciate how hard y’all worked today. But I don’t want him to wear hisself out. He could have been killed falling off that truck. I’m surprised, and pleased, that he didn’t take off but two days—and I’ll pay him half his salary for both, like I told you I would. Now, y’all skedaddle.”

  A few minutes after we started walking to the bus stop, a regular customer that had just finished his meal drove up behind us and offered us a ride home.

  At 6:00 p.m., Joyce was at our door by herself, holding a handkerchief. Without saying nothing, she brushed past me and dropped down so hard on the couch, her legs went up in the air and one of her shoes flew off.

  “Where is Odell?” I asked.

  “Today’s Friday, remember?” she said in a weak voice, sliding her foot back into her shoe. Then she hawked into the handkerchief. “He didn’t even come home for supper. Right after he closed up, he went straight to go check on his daddy. He won’t be back home until Sunday night.” She put the handkerchief in her purse and looked toward the back of the room. “Anybody else here yet?”

  “Naw. Besides you, me and Milton is the only ones in the house so far. Folks usually start trailing in around seven on Friday nights.”

  “Good. I don’t want anybody else to hear me so they can go out and start a rumor,” she said.

  My ears perked up so quick, I heard a ringing noise. “Start a rumor about what? Is that why you seem distressed?”

  She bobbed her head. “Yvonne, I think something is going on with Odell. Something worrisome.”

  “Like what?” Milton asked, walking into the room with a look on his face like he was about to laugh.

  He still had the Band-Aids on his face but nothing on his head. There was a jar of moonshine in his hand. When he handed it to Joyce, she took such a long pull, I thought she was going to empty the jar in one gulp. I sat down at the other end of the couch, and Milton stood leaning up against the wall facing us, with his arms folded.

  “You want to tell us why you think something is going on with Odell?” he said.

  Before she answered, she drunk some more. “Lately, he hasn’t been eating much. When we went to bed last night, he tossed and turned off and on for hours. And he’s been looking worried for the past few days.” Joyce let out a hiccup and wiped her lips with the back of her hand.

  “Did you mention it to him?” I asked.

  “I tried more than once. But he claims he’s fine. Y’all know how happy-go-lucky Odell is all the time. Since the day I met him, I’ve never known him to be depressed.” Joyce stopped long enough to blow out a loud breath. From the dreamy-eyed look that suddenly popped up on her face, I had a feeling she was going to say something that would make me roll my eyes. She did. And her eyes was smack-dab on Milton when she said it. “I bet every colored man in town wish they were half as smart, successful, dapper, handsome, and humble as Odell.” Joyce was so blind in love with Odell, she didn’t even notice how Milton’s jaws started twitching. I didn’t know if she meant to or not, but she had just low-rated my husband again.

  “Oh, I wouldn’t worry about Odell. If something is bothering him, he would have let you know by now,” I insisted.

  “Me and him done got closer since we met. If he got a problem he scared to tell you about, I’m sure he would have told me by now,” Milton said.

  Joyce looked at Milton like he had turned into a toad. “You? I don’t care how close you and Odell are, you’re probably the last person in the world he’d tell something before he told me!” she shot back.

  The wounded look on Milton’s face was so extreme, it made me cringe. I didn’t know how many more of her and Odell’s put-downs we could stand. When Milton had let me know how painful being put down was to him, I’d promised myself that I’d never low-rate him in favor of Odell again myself. I had to press my lips together and keep them that way for a few seconds to keep from saying something I’d probably regret. It was a good thing I could control my rage, and in this case, it was a smart move. Each day, our vested interest in Joyce and Odell increased. I didn’t want to do nothing to derail the gravy train me and Milton was already on.

  “I bet it’s his daddy,” she went on. “Lonnie’s probably dying, and Odell doesn’t want to upset me. That’s the only thing I can think of that would have him so down in the dumps.”

  “Well, Lonnie is in bad health. And I hate to say this, but we all got to go sometime. And ain’t too many folks in this town done lived as long as your daddy,” I said, sounding as sympathetic as I could. And I really was.

  “My daddy is even older than Odell’s, and he’s still kicking,” Joyce said, sounding much stronger and not as worried now.

  “If it ain’t his daddy he so worried about, can you think of anything else it might be?” Milton asked, looking at her from the corner of his eye.

  Joyce came up with the stupidest thing I expected to hear. “You mean like him having a health issue that he doesn’t want me to find out about yet?”

  “Uh-huh. That would be my guess,” Milton said.

  She had a deadpan expression on her face for a few moments. “No, I don’t think that’s it. Odell is as fit as a fiddle.” Then she gasped. “Lord, I hope he’s not foolish enough to be involved with cards and dice, like some men! Gambling is one of the worst sins.” That was another jab at Milton.

  “I don’t think he’d be that foolish, neither. Not with a woman like you behind him.” Milton was being sarcastic, but it went right over Joyce’s head.

  “Well, I’m going to keep a close eye on him these next few days. If his mood gets any more serious, I’ll make him tell me what’s going on!” Joyce vowed, with her tongue snapping over every single word.

  “If I was in your shoes, that’s exactly what I’d do,” I told her.

  CHAPTER 48

  MILTON

  BY 10:00 P.M., THE HOUSE WAS JUMPING. THE LIVING ROOM WAS packed to th
e gills, and folks was still coming. I was glad Joyce was in a better mood. She had even danced a few times. And she hadn’t said nothing else stupid enough to make my chest tighten up.

  The only thing I was concerned about was the way Aunt Mattie kept shooting mean looks at Lyla and Emmalou because of all the attention they was getting. Since they’d walked in the door around nine, most of the men had stopped dancing and chatting with the colored women and had got all over them. When Lyla and Emmalou sat down on the couch, Aunt Mattie got up and headed to the kitchen. I waited a few minutes and followed her. She was sitting at the table, leafing through the latest Sears and Roebuck catalog.

  “Aunt Mattie, you all right?”

  “I done had better days,” she snarled, giving me the evil eye. “I know you and Yvonne like the fact that them peckerwood hussies is good for y’all’s business. But they bad for mine. I brung Tiny, Sweet Sue, and Dee Dee with me tonight because this is payday for most of the men here.”

  “Lyla and Emmalou ain’t here to make money. They just come to have a good time, like everybody else.”

  “How come they stopped going to ‘have a good time’ at them jook joints and the other bootleggers’ houses?”

  I scratched my neck and snickered. “Well, for the same reasons a lot of other folks stopped going. We got good entertainment, complimentary snacks, and some of the best and cheapest drinks available. But one of the main reasons is, we live in a quiet, safe neighborhood—nowhere near them swamps and woods, like them other places. Our guests ain’t got to worry about getting robbed, falling into quicksand, getting bit by snakes or mauled by bobcats. Besides that, the fossils running them other places is so old, they done forgot how to be fun hosts. We make our guests feel more alive, carefree, and young.”

  “Well, this ‘fossil’ don’t feel ‘alive, carefree, and young’ when somebody interferes with my income. Shoot. I got bills to pay. Ain’t nary one of them black-ass suckers here tonight going to make no dates with my girls while them white women hogging all their attention.”

  “That ain’t our problem. You do your business whichever way you want, but not in our house. Now, if you got a problem with who me and Yvonne entertain, you can drink at home or at another house. Shoot. You, of all people, should know that when it come to business, we all do what we have to do to make our money.”

  I didn’t like to sass elderly people, especially Aunt Mattie. She was a good friend, and I’d been one of her girls’ favorite tricks for years. On top of that, everybody knew she practiced hoodoo. She kept a lot of folks in line by threatening to put hexes on them. I didn’t want no witch doctor mad at me, so I decided to do some backpedaling.

  “Um, Aunt Mattie, I been looking up to you since I was a little boy. You remind me so much of both my grandmothers—may they rest in peace in heaven until I join them—so I got a whole lot of love and respect for you. I’m sorry I sassed you. You know how crazy I get when I’m drinking. I hope I didn’t hurt your feelings.” I gave her the most apologetic look I could.

  She gazed at me for a few seconds with her eyes narrowed before she gave me a smile. “Aw, shuck it, Milton. I’m just a businesswoman always looking for more money. I guess I done got too greedy in my old age. Don’t pay me no mind.”

  “Whew! Praise God you ain’t mad at me.” I lowered my voice. “I been romping with your girls since I was in my teens, and I sure don’t want to make you mad enough to blow the whistle on me. Yvonne would kill me dead.”

  “You ain’t got to worry about me or my girls telling. If it wasn’t for married men, every sporting house in America would go out of business. We ain’t tattled to the wives on nary one of the husbands yet. Since most of our tricks—colored and white—is married, we do most of our work at the house during the day hours, when they can sneak away from work on their lunch breaks. That’s why I come over here with some of my girls at night two or three nights a week, hoping we can drum up a few more tricks.” Aunt Mattie glanced at the door. Then she whispered, “You just make sure you keep paying your tab—which is behind again.”

  “Don’t worry. I’ll catch it up directly. Now, listen, I want you and some of your girls to come next Tuesday night to help us celebrate Willie Frank’s thirty-fifth birthday. There’ll be a heap of horny men here who your girls can make dates with.”

  “Oh, we’ll be here with bells on.”

  “Make sure you bring that Sweet Sue. She is Willie Frank’s favorite these days. I’ll be coming to your house to check her out myself real soon.”

  “Good! Bless your heart, Milton.” Aunt Mattie teetered up out of her chair, and I took her arm and escorted her back to the living room.

  * * *

  Business was pretty good Saturday night. But Sunday was slow. We didn’t have but ten guests, so I entertained in my bathrobe and bare feet. After everybody left around 11:00 p.m., I put my shoes on.

  “Where you going?” Yvonne asked, walking into the living room in her nightgown.

  “I’m going outside for a few minutes to get some fresh air and smoke me some rabbit tobacco. And my legs just started cramping, so I might walk to the end of the block to get the blood flowing right.”

  “Okay, sugar. If I wasn’t so sleepy, I’d walk with you. You should take a stick or my rolling pin with you in case you get jumped again.”

  I brushed her off with a wave. “I doubt if anybody is lurking around this neighborhood, looking to do me harm this time of night.”

  The lights was still on next door, so I knew Joyce and Odell hadn’t gone to bed yet. He answered the door when I knocked.

  “Milton! You know how late it is?” he hissed, wincing like something was caught in his eye. I figured by now I had become a thorn in his side the size of a watermelon.

  “I ain’t going to stay but a minute. Can I come in?”

  He glanced over his shoulder and then back at me with a nervous look on his face. “I’d rather talk right here at the door,” he whispered in that snippy tone he’d been using with me lately. “What is it now?”

  “Believe it or not, I didn’t come to ask for money. Unless you want to give—”

  He cut me off by holding his hand up to my face. “Don’t talk so loud. Joyce is in the bathroom, but she got big ears.” He glanced over his shoulder again and shifted his weight from one foot to the other. His jaws was twitching, and his eyes was blinking. “Milton, if you didn’t come for money, what did you come for?”

  He was still whispering, so I started whispering, too. “I just wanted to let you know Joyce is getting suspicious.”

  His jaw dropped, and his eyes got big. “Why do you say that?”

  “When she came to the house Friday night, she told us you ain’t been eating or sleeping right, and you been looking worried. All that’s worrying her.”

  “What did y’all say to her?” Even in the cool night air, sweat popped up on Odell’s face. I couldn’t believe how a man who got distressed enough to start sweating at the drop of a hat could be involved in such scandalous activity.

  “We didn’t say nothing you need to be concerned about.” I looked him straight in the eyes and said, “Not this time . . .”

  He lowered his voice even more. “Look, I’m paying you good money to keep your mouth shut.”

  “As long as you keep doing that, I will keep my mouth shut.”

  “Is that what you came to tell me?”

  “Yeah, but now that I’m here, I need to ask a favor.”

  Odell narrowed his eyes and glared at me. “Can you move this along?”

  “Okay. You know me and Yvonne is planning a shindig for Willie Frank’s birthday. I need a few items from the store, and I don’t want to use my credit account or spend what little bit of money I got.”

  Odell looked relieved, and he finally stopped whispering. “Come by the store, and I’ll let you get whatever you need. Now, if you don’t mind, I need to get back to Joyce.”

  “One more thing.” I wagged my finger in his face. “I don
’t think it’s safe for me to be out walking too far and too often these days.”

  “Then don’t,” he snapped, giving me a impatient look. “If you afraid of getting jumped again, keep taking the bus and ride with Willie Frank more often.”

  “That won’t solve the problem. The bus only run certain hours, and Willie Frank’s truck ain’t always available when we need to use it. Us getting around is getting tiresome.”

  Odell closed his eyes and massaged the back of his neck. When he opened his eyes, they was glaring at me three times as hard as they usually did. “If you expect me to provide transportation for you to get around town, you can forget it. I’m a busy man!”

  “Tell me about it. You must be the busiest man I know. By the way, how is that other lady doing these days?” I snickered.

  “Shhh! Keep your voice down. Uh, ‘that other lady’ is doing fine. Now, will you leave so I can get to bed? My wife is waiting for me.”

  “I bet she is.” I chuckled. “And I hope you give her enough of your roaming tallywacker to keep her happy until the next time she have to spend a couple of days by herself.” I let out a deep sigh and looked at Odell like I was in awe—and I was. “Tell me something, my man. You go do Betty Jean once or twice during the week, and you spend whole weekends with her. Then you come home and lay some loving on Joyce. Man, I wish you could bottle and sell whatever you—”

  Odell held his hands up in my face and cut me off again. “Milton, I don’t want to hear another word from you tonight.”

  “All right, I’m leaving. We can discuss the car you going to help me get later.”

  He gulped so hard, his eyes crossed. “What car?”

  “I can see you can’t take a hint. That’s what I been trying to tell you. We can discuss it on Wednesday, when you come to the house with my money.”

  “You think I’m going to get you a car?”

  “Why not? I need one, and you can get it for me.”

  “The hell I will!”

  “The hell you won’t.”