Standing at the Scratch Line (13 page)

The band started another military marching tune and King called out the requisite change in step. The regiment held its tight formations as it marched past blocks and blocks of waving onlookers. All the music played by the band were classic military marches until the 369th entered Harlem. At 125th Street, the band began to play “Here Comes My Daddy” and the huge black presence that was Harlem threw back its head and laughed to the heavens, exposing flashing white teeth, then reached out its massive arms to welcome its fighters home. From every lamppost and building flew pennants and banners bearing the insignia of the white rattler. From the windows to the rooftops, there were colored people cheering the returning fathers and sons and nephews. Women ran out into the street to march arm in arm with the soldiers.

The tight formation of the units spread out as bystanders flocked into the street to join in the historic victory march. It was a time when a victory for any colored man was a victory for all. The people of Harlem felt they had a right to march with the 369th. Had they not fought the same battle on the home front? They too suffered losses, not only sons lost in the war, but in the daily indignities and constant bigotry of everyday life. So, in the year of race riots, lynchings, and Klan resurgence, Harlem dearly needed the victory that the 369th brought home, and it needed to see its young black men come marching home with heads held high.

By the time he reached the reviewing stands at 130th Street, King had a woman on each arm and appeared to have no trouble in talking to either of them.

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The corner office was large and elegantly furnished with lush leather chairs and polished tables. Two walls of the office were taken up by floor-to-ceiling windows that looked down on the traffic of Fifth Avenue fifteen floors below. King had never been in a building so high above the ground, and he felt uneasy as he walked over to the window and looked out over the cityscape. He recognized that he was in the presence of wealth and it made him feel distrustful of the person in whose office he was waiting.

King turned to Professor and Big Ed. “You sure we can trust this man?”

“He’s treated me fairly,” Professor answered. “Also, Ira Goldbaum served as a lieutenant in the Three hundred Sixty-ninth and all the colored soldiers who served under him have good things to say about him.”

“Yeah, I remember the name. But we talkin’ about money now, and money brings out greed in a man,” King rejoined.

“We’ve got to trust someone,” Professor advised. “We don’t have the contacts to deal with the gold coins or the jewelry. If you want to wait a couple of years, we might be able to work out a currency exchange, but even then we should be represented by an attorney. Goldbaum is teaching law at Columbia and he is helping me reenroll in college. I knew him before I enlisted. He was one of my law professors and he’ll probably be one of my law professors again. I think he’s our best bet.”

“I didn’t risk my life to go back to Côte d’Saar for those other two boxes of gold to throw it all away now,” King replied.

Further conversation was inhibited by the entrance of a tall, thin, blond-haired white man who had a large beak of a nose and penetrating blue eyes. The man walked with a cane and his limp was pronounced. His right leg was stiff at the knee. King turned to face the man and recognized him. King had saved his life one late afternoon in northern France. He had found the man with a shattered leg, lying at the bottom of a trench into which mustard gas was seeping, and had pulled him out. King reached out and shook the hand that was offered him.

The man, as if reading his mind, said, “I’m Ira Goldbaum. You saved my life, remember?”

“Sho’,” answered King with a slight smile. He remembered the incident, but it was not a special event for him. He had acted on impulse. If the truth be told, he had almost left the man to die, except that he remembered some Negro soldiers saying good things about him. He looked at Goldbaum with greater interest. He was dressed in expensive clothes, wearing a gold watch, and his hands were manicured. The man looked as if he was doing quite well financially.

After the introductions were complete, Ira sat on the edge of his desk. “Exactly how can I help you men?”

“You ain’t prosecutin’ or defendin’ criminals?” King asked.

“No, I work in corporate law.”

“What’s that?” Big Ed asked.

“I set up corporations for people with money. I set up businesses as tax shelters. I’ve set up investment companies. Why are you interested?”

“I just wanted to know what corporate law is,” Big Ed answered.

Ira laughed. “I generally say, ‘My job is to help people hide money legally,’ but I provide the full range of legal services for my clients.”

King’s attention was piqued when Ira mentioned “hiding money legally.” He had never given much consideration as to what he should do with money. King kept the money he had won gambling along with what he received from demobilization hidden in the wall of his flat. He studied Goldbaum and hoped that Professor’s trust wasn’t misplaced.

Professor got up from his chair and went over to the desk, placing a large golden coin on the polished surface. “We have a trunk load of these.”

Ira examined the coin carefully. “Is this authentic?”

“We have gotten some offers that seem to confirm their authenticity,” Professor answered. “We found them along with quite a bit of jewelry in northern France and shipped them home.”

“It’s a good thing you didn’t divulge to the French authorities that you were in possession of these. They would have demanded that the coins be turned over immediately to the government. In fact, if I bring these to the attention of people who know about this sort of thing, there may still be some question as to how you got them.”

“We’ve come to you to have you find us the best deal possible and to protect us from treachery,” Professor spoke slowly, giving particular emphasis to the last word.

“We knows all about treachery,” King added as he walked over to one of the large windows and looked down at the streets below. “And we know how to repay it.”

Ira smiled. “Gentlemen, if you’re asking my firm to represent you, you need not worry about treachery. I have built my reputation on honesty and fairness and I expect to continue with that code of ethics. Furthermore,” he turned to face King, “I have not forgotten that you saved my life and that I am indebted to you. I repay all my debts honorably.”

There was a moment of silence as King looked at his two friends. Big Ed nodded his head, indicating it was alright with him. Professor nodded his approval as well. King looked down on the traffic below. It was a long way down. He was reminded again of how fleeting life was. His thoughts touched on the realization that the pleasure of breath that Ira drew today was the result of idle conversation between colored soldiers around a campfire in the frozen mountains of northern France.

King turned to Ira. “Let’s do business.”

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The lights went down and five brown-skinned women, with their hair hot-combed, tap-danced into the circle of spotlights in the Rockland Palace Revue. The rhythms tapped out by their feet were accompanied by a lone clarinet and a drummer playing a high hat. The audience sat around the circular dance floor in an intimate semidarkness that was only partially lightened by the candles on their tables.

The dancers twirled and spun through their dance steps as their truncated costumes of sequins and nets shimmered under the spots. Near the end of the act, each woman was given an opportunity to display her most difficult tap combination. As the different dancers took their turn, different instruments would join in syncopation with the tap rhythm. The first was accompanied by a stand-up bass, the second by a cornet, the next by banjo, the fourth by saxophone, and the last by piano. The women dancing with the banjo and the piano accompanists received the loudest applause.

As the lights went up and the dancers trooped back to their dressing rooms, Big Ed was enthusiastic. He stood up and applauded loudly. “Did you see that big-leg girl? Man, that honey was lookin’ good! Lord! Lord!”

“Sit down, Big Ed, there’s more to come,” Jim Europe said with a laugh. “You act like you just got out of the army a couple a weeks ago.”

“I did just get out!” Big Ed said. “I got demobbed same time as you boys.” His consternation caused a chuckle around the table.

“I think he’s talking about that lean and hungry look you got on your face, Big Ed,” Noble Sissle said. “You look like you could’ve eaten that girl alive.”

“Shoot, just let me get under her hood and check out those pistons and I’ll be goin’ like sixty,” Big Ed confirmed.

King smiled and said, “Hold on, Big Ed. I think the boys are tryin’ to pull your coat. Because if you look that hungry, you gon’ end up payin’ for it.”

“I want to meet that girl, Jim! Can you set it up?” Big Ed persisted.

“Why don’t I invite her and her friends to come to our opening-day picnic next week?”

“You’d do that for me?” Big Ed was effusive.

“Damn, you’d think you’d given the girl to him,” Noble chuckled.

“Listen, boys, I have to get backstage and get dressed for the full orchestra’s appearance.” Jim stood up. “I think you can rest easy with your investment, gentlemen. It looks like we’re going to make a lot of money in this club.”

“You boys is lucky that you got this deal to come together so quick,” Noble commented, shaking his head. “If the Rockland Palace hadn’t been sitting vacant for six months, you wouldn’t have been able to swing it.”

“We’s lucky we got our money situation straightened out so fast,” Big Ed explained. “That’s what made all this possible.”

“Yeah, you fellows must have found a gold mine in France,” Noble nodded. “You just got to make sure that somebody else don’t end up benefitting from your investment.”

“Mr. Europe!” a young waiter hurried over to the table. “Mr. Europe, some white mens is trying to force their way backstage. They said that you wouldn’t mind, but Vince sent me over to check with you.” The waiter was wearing the red waistcoat and black pants that was the club uniform.