Harlem Redux (43 page)

“Want to hear about my tenth birthday?” she said. “I’ll never forget it. I was so excited. I’d been dreaming of this doll I’d seen in a store window. She had this long blond curly hair and a pretty dress. I’d never seen nothing like her. I didn’t know how much she cost, but I do r’member thinking: Mama’s gonna get me that doll. I just know she will.

“Well, the day of my birthd’y come and I bounced outta bed real early. And there was Mama, and Uncle Clement. And sure ‘nough, they had a big box, wrapped up all pretty. Jumbo size. I couldn’t believe it. And then I opened it.”

Annie sighed. “You won’t believe this—I didn’t at first. It was a bucket. A bright, shiny, spanking new washerwoman’s bucket. And while I was trying to get over
that,
Mama went and fetched my second birthd’y present. Guess what it was. A mop. That’s right. A mop.

“I was ten years old and my Mama was giving me a mop and a bucket for birthd’y presents. That hurt. That cut deep. Up till then I’d always gotten a toy, even if it was just a rag doll. And I woulda been happy with another rag doll. Mama knew she didn’t have to gimme that ‘spensive doll, but why’d she have to go and gimme a mop and a bucket?

“Well, I took one look at her face and I knew. It was the end of my childhood. Mama said I’d been playing long ‘nough. I cried. Told her she was being mean. Said she wasn’t being
kind
to me. I’ll never forget her answer. Not as long as I live.

‘“I am being kind, honey,’ she said. I’s being as kind as a mama can be. I’m giving you the most important thing I got to give: a way to survive. I’m gonna teach you how to fend for yourself. Gonna make sure you learn. And I’m gonna start right now.’

“And you know what?” Annie smiled. “My mama was right. If she hadna taught me how to cook and clean, I wouldna found this here place with you and your sisters. Mama
was
being kind, as kind as she knew how. And I learned, from that day on, to always appreciate kindness—no matter what form it takes.”

Kindness. Would she say that kindness was what Lilian’s manuscript was all about?

He remembered the cautionary ending to Annie’s tale: “Sometimes, you gotta be a little cruel to be kind. And sometimes, what people claim for kindness ain’t nothing but cruelty.”

He looked at Rachel across the table and recalled what Lilian said in denying her help:
I am doing you a favor.
And then he reflected on his own decision to marry Rachel although he wasn’t in love with her.

Was he guilty of a milder form of cruelty masquerading as kindness?

As Annie pottered about, stacking the used dishes on a tray, Rachel’s eyes followed her. The moment Annie left, Rachel asked:

“You ever think about letting her rest?”

“You mean, retire her? Not really, why?” Of course, he had. Why was he lying about it? Because he felt guilty. That’s why. And protective of Annie.

She shrugged. “I just don’t think it’s right to make such an old lady work so hard, carrying groceries and wash baskets and such. She’s done her share for your family.”

“That she has. But she’d be miserable if she wasn’t working.” He took a sip from his coffee, then set the cup down. “You don’t like Annie, do you?”

She looked surprised. “What gave you that idea?”

“I don’t know. It’s just a—” He shrugged. “A feeling.”

“Well, it’s all in your mind. Oh, I had my run-ins with her in the past, but that was then. I was young and silly. Annie’s a member of the family. And she’s a great help, but I do think you take advantage of her.”

“All right then, I’ll talk to her about it. See what she wants to do.”

It was something to say. He knew full well what Annie wanted, but he wasn’t about to tell Rachel. He didn’t know much about women, but he knew a territorial cat-fight when he saw one. And if he got caught up in it, it would be
his
blood that was on the floor.

He looked at his new wife across the breakfast table and smiled. For her, the world could hardly be more perfect, but he still had certain steps to take in order to rebuild
his
life. Marrying Rachel had been one step; regaining control of the house would be another.

Reestablishing contact with Gem would be a third.

Rachel did not greet this news warmly. Her clear eyes darted over his face. “But why would you do that? Why contact Gem all of a sudden?”

“Because she’s the only family I have.”

“But you’ve never liked her.”

“Well, it’s time I learned. She’s the only sister I’ve got left.”

Rachel appeared stupefied. Her reaction to his decision to find Gem surprised him, but he thought he understood it. She had never liked Gem, and all brides tend to be on guard against in-laws. Well, once Rachel saw that Gem would not be a threat, she would calm down.

She would have to.

The idea to find Gem had seized him with incredible power. He
would
find her, even if it meant sailing to Paris. The time and money would be worth it. He would not try to convince her to return. Just seeing her would be reassuring.

Reassuring?

Finally, he was prepared to admit it, that he was
worried
about Gem—indeed, had been for some time—but he’d been so fixed on Lilian he hadn’t wanted to acknowledge it.

It began with those postcards.

Yes. They disturbed him. And Snyder’s words and Nella’s admission that she couldn’t reach Gem in Paris, they troubled him, too.

The old fearful questions tumbled out, one after another. Why did Gem demand that public breakup with Snyder? Why didn’t she respond to Nella’s calls? Gem was flighty and free-spirited, but she’d always make time for a rich friend, especially one as generous as Nella. Why hadn’t Gem responded to word of Lilian’s death?

The answer was there, but he turned away from it. No, he didn’t want to think that something had happened to Gem, too.

That afternoon, David paid a visit to Birdie’s grocery store and went downstairs. “Jolene, you got an idea where I could find Shug Ryan?”

Jolene leaned across the bar. “Try the Lizard Lounge, up on 140th. Shug likes to shoot pool when he’s in town.”

Stella came up and caught what Jolene was saying. “The Lizard Lounge? Don’t send him up there. Them some nasty jigs.”

Jolene shrugged. “It’s his life, Mama.” To David, he said, “A broad named Bentley runs the place. Tell her I sent you. And tell her quick, b’fore one of them saps gets itchy.”

It would’ve been generous to call the Lizard Lounge a “hole in the wall.” David only found the place because he trudged up and down the east and west sides of 140th Street, from one side of Harlem to the next, checking out each door along the way. The place had no sign to mark it and that in itself told him what to expect inside.

The Lizard Lounge apparently consisted of a long, narrow room with no windows and one door. Through the haze of smoke and the murky light, David could barely see, but he could feel several pairs of eyes on him. Why would a sax player be hanging out in a dive like this? Usually, musicians went to places that catered to entertainers. As his eyes adjusted to the light, he made out the six pool tables, with green baize lampshades dangling over them.

And then he saw the patrons.

The Lizard Lounge was a hangout for vicious hustlers, red-eyed gangsters, and men who were experts at giving pain. It was the kind of place where a man could literally get his throat cut for batting an eyelash at the wrong time. He figured he had better follow Jolene’s advice and find Bentley.

He scanned the room for a woman. There was only one in sight. She was sitting at a fold-up wooden card table on the far side of the room. She was fat, about fifty, with black and gray finger waves and large cheap golden earrings. She was playing Solitaire, laying out the cards methodically, and just as methodically, watching him. He felt the eyes follow him as he walked over to her. Felt them like tips of daggers pressed against his skin.

“Evening,” he said. “You Bentley?”

“Who’s asking?” She slid a hand under the table.

“Jolene told me to look you up.”

Bentley’s jaundiced eyes widened and a sound like a hiss left her mouth. Before he could blink, she’d whipped out a gun from under the table and rained it on his chest. He stepped back and slowly raised his hands in the air.
 Very slowly. Only the breadth of the card table lay between them. If she cut loose, there was no way she would miss.

“Yo, lady, chill,” he breathed.

“Jolene ain’t never sent me nothing but trouble. The last time, trouble was packing a switchblade. He tried to bury it in my ribs.”

“I don’t know nothing but nothing about that.”

Her eyes narrowed. “Sure you don’t.”

He sensed two men behind him. He glanced back over his shoulder. One had pale green snake eyes; the other was fat and soft-looking but crusty, like enough that had been left sitting on the counter too long. Bentley smiled at
David, revealing brown, rotting stumps for teeth.

“Baby, don’t you know who you messing with?”

“I guess I’m about to find out.”

Her broad nostrils flared. She nodded to the two men. They took him through a back door he hadn’t seen to an alleyway. The moment they were outside, Snake-eyes bashed him in the head from behind. Pain scissored through him as he dropped and twisted. Doughboy aimed a kick at David’s ribs and David rolled on the ground, gasping. They pulled him to his feet. Snake-eyes gripped David from behind and held him, while Doughboy tore into him with his fists. Doughboy was fast and vicious despite his looks. He pulled back for a killing blow and that was when David ducked.

Doughboy’s fist connected with Snake-eyes’ nose. There was the thin crunch of broken bone and Snake-eyes yelled, stumbling backward. David whirled and slammed his fist into Doughboy’s throat. The fat man sputtered and sagged to his knees. By then, Snake-eyes was back on his feet. He had a blade. David glanced around, saw a dusty lead pipe, and grabbed it. It took two good blows before Snake-eyes went down. David didn’t know if Snake-eyes was alive or dead. He didn’t have time to think about it. Doughboy was gone. That meant that reinforcements were on the way. David dropped the pipe. He had to clear out. Fast.

The moment Birdie saw David he raised his hands. “Hey, David, I’m sorry. If I’da known—”

“Let me go downstairs.”

“Can’t do that. He’s my brother.”

“Well, your brother’s gonna have a rat’s pack of trouble if he don’t haul his sorry ass up here.”

“I––”

“I don’t wanna shut you down, Birdie. But he shouldn’t have done that. Now get him up here.”

Birdie nodded. “Okay. No hard feelings between us, I hope.”

“Naturally not.”

“So you stay up here and keep a lookout for me while I go get him, okay?”

David smiled. “Sure.”

Birdie went downstairs. The moment he was out of sight, David left the grocery store and went around the back way. A set of parallel iron stairs ran alongside the building and down to the cellar doorway. A minute later, the cellar door flew open and Jolene came busting out. David snatched him by the collar and slammed him against the building’s brick wall. Jolene sputtered and clenched at his throat, staring at David with one bulging eye.