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riday night at the Fast House, Etta marveled at how many customers and curious patrons appeared to take in the excitement which spilled over after Willie B. shot up the place. It became the story of the day once word had traveled through the black community. A would-be police officer supposedly catching his wife with a colored doctor and blasting them both was too much of an event to disregard.
Penny and Etta hustled drinks from opening time to the wee hours of the morning. Madame Clarisse helped out behind the bar for kicks, although Etta insisted she take fifty dollars for being a friend in a time of need. Clarisse didn't mind the close proximity to Baltimore throughout the night and would have gladly done it for nothing. Unfortunately for her, when the Fast House shut down, he slipped out the back door with someone else while her back was turned. Penny giggled under her breath as the hairstylist ranted about her need to be made love to by a handsome man like Baltimore. “There's nothing like having a fine man rubbing up against my skin,” she said, from the other end of a lit cigarette. “Hell, the way I feel right now, I'd even take an ugly man with smooth hands, a strong back and a big oleâ”
“Uh-uh,” Etta interrupted. “Don't you dare dive into all that in front of Penny. Let's get this place locked up and maybe you can make a call or two and see who's in the mood and still available.”
Clarisse blew a dense stream of smoke into the air as she leaned back against the bar. “If I can get one on the line, I can put him in the mood. You can take that to the bank and cash it.”
Etta laughed as she puffed on a Chesterfield herself. “You know, all this talk about menfolk got me missing something I ain't had in a while,” she said in retrospect.
“What's that, Ms. Etta?” asked Penny, with wide wondering eyes.
“Huh? Oh, uh, headache powder,” she lied quickly. “Never you mind that. I was thinking out loud when I should have kept it to myself.”
“Maybe that's the problem,” Penny said, cutting her eyes at Etta like a sly fox. “Maybe you've been keeping it to yourself for too long.”
“Penny?” Etta said, caught off guard by her innuendo. “What do you know about grown folk's affairs?”
“What don't I know?” she answered, twirling a damp dishrag like a child's toy. “There ain't a night goes by that I don't see some fella try'na get it or some woman try'na to give it away. Even seen one or two of them cathouse girls offering to make a profit selling it. Seems to me that pleasing is what makes the world go around. If it ain't, I sho' don't know what beats it out.” She tossed the same foxy leer at Etta and Clarisse she'd pitched at them moments before. “Headache powder, that's a new one. Heard it called everything but that. I'm awful hungry, y'all. Who wants to settle down to a red eye hot plate at the Smokey Joe's Café? I'm buying.”
“Etta, don't look now, but you've got a woman on your hands,” Clarissa said, marveling at Penny's sudden maturity. “Better still, a woman who's treating us to breakfast.”
“I'll say,” was all that Etta could say, without drilling her protégée on exactly what else she might have learned under her very nose. Etta was even more astonished than Clarisse. It took everything she had to keep her mouth shut, afraid of getting more than she'd bargained for.
Penny had already shared a lot of what she picked up from hustling tables, but she was not prepared or willing to make known the number of steamy sex scenes she observed through Baltimore's rented room window. Penny figured on keeping that to herself. It was also clear she had matured in many ways since taking up with Etta, including learning a valuable lesson: to keep quiet when something was better left unsaid. Running off at the mouth could have brought pain to so many.
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The following afternoon, in Baltimore's room, Dinah was casually dressed in an oatmeal-hued pleated shirt and argyle sweater, while she lounged on the small loveseat with her arms crossed. She'd listened to Baltimore's plans to leave town by sundown while he neglected to tell her where he was headed and for how long. “That's not gonna cut it this time,” she objected, staring at his back as he placed folded clothes into a new set of expensive suitcases. “I know you've been up to something so don't stand there and lie to my face.” When accused of being untruthful, Baltimore turned toward Dinah in a slow deliberate manner that caused her to cower away from him.
“You know I ain't got no cause to lie to you or no other woman and I ain't gave you any cause to put that label on me,” he panted. “I done told you all you need to know, for now. If that won't do, there's the door.”
She didn't know what to think then. Baltimore had been honest, she was mindful of that before challenging him further. “So tell me then, why are you in such a rush to storm away from me? If I didn't know better I'd think you was giving me the sack.”
“It'd be more like me to give you the latch,” he joked. “But we've had good times, Dinah. Good times are all I can offer going forward. You could come with me, you know.”
“And do what, Baltimore?” she asked, while standing up from the loveseat. “Come with you and be your whore? I didn't hear nothing about you loving me coming out your mouth, now or ever. I have a home here, a job that keeps money in my pocket and all of my friends to keep me company. That's a good life. Unless you're stud'n on trumping what I already got, we might as well fold them right here and walk away from the table.” Confidant he wouldn't call her bluff, Dinah rolled her eyes at him to appear more geared up to let him go than she actually was.
Before he answered her, someone knocked at the door. Baltimore furrowed his brow and raised his hand to shush Dinah. Not expecting any visitors, he grabbed the revolver from atop the bureau. “Yeah, who is it?” he asked, with an insistent tone.
“Open up and I'll show you,” a woman's voice answered.
Baltimore recognized it immediately. Dressed in a pair of casual trousers, he glanced at Dinah to note her reaction, then he reached for a suitable shirt to make himself presentable. “Hold on a minute, I'm throwing something on,” he answered through the door.
“You shouldn't bother on my account,” the woman responded in a sensuous tone. “I like you best in nothing at all.”
Listening to the woman carrying on outside the door, Dinah was ready to blow a gasket. There was no skirting around this one. It couldn't help but get ugly. She was chomping at the bit to see who Baltimore had been splitting her time with. “What you waiting on?” she whispered, while watching Baltimore stall. “Unlatch it!” she demanded, louder than before.
After a deep sigh, he opened the door. Before uttering a single word, Dixie Sinclair sauntered in showing off her sleeveless red and crème sundress. Wasting no time getting at the reason she showed up out of the blue, she purred and tossed both arms around Baltimore's neck. Uncomfortable as could be, he peered down at Dixie while she pressed her face against the opening in his unbuttoned long sleeve shirt. “Whoa now, Dix, I've got company,” he said, trying to pry himself away from her exuberant clutches.
“Ohhh!” Dixie squealed. Backing away from Baltimore as if he were a leper, she shot a barrage of fiery looks in Dinah's direction. “Sorry, I had no idea you were entertaining. But now that I'm here, she can run along.” Dixie's elitist outlook gave her the inclination that Baltimore would arbitrarily choose her to stay, assuming he favored white meat if he could get it.
“Don't go getting any ideas deary,” Dinah asserted broodingly. “I don't like getting pushed around unless I ask for it and you're hardly my type.”
“Baltimore, if you wouldn't mind seeing her out,” the white lady suggested with a dismissive stare flung at her colored competition. “Three's a crowd and Barker's in a fit of rage about a missing police car or something having to do with it. In either case I don't have all day.” Baltimore was in no hurry to force the issue of someone having to be sent home so he held his cards close to the vest and his mouth buttoned tight.
“So this is Mrs. Barker Sinclair?” Dinah said coolly, as she looked the intruder over carefully. “I thought you'd be old, mean, and fat. Boy, did I get a false report.” Of course Dinah was merely going off what Barker had said about his wife when he was with her.
“Excuse me, have we met?” Dixie asked.
“No, but I've had a long running ... understanding with Barker.” The corners of Dinah's lips curled into a sheepish grin. It was all she could do not to laugh at the white lady's stupid expression.
“You and Barker, really?” Dixie said defensively, insinuating that was too ridiculous for words.
Finally Baltimore came across an invitation into their conversation that suited him. “Well, ain't this cozy? Barker's woman and his whore brought together by chance.”
“I'll say, Baltimore. It's just peachy,” Dinah contended. “Him and you's in the same fix.” Her astute observation flattened Baltimore's smugly self-righteous smirk. “Come to think of it, y'all belong together. I'll take my hat and handbag and leave you two alone. Yes, it has begun to feel a bit crowded for my taste as well. And Baltimore, this could not happen to a more deserving person. I have no doubt you'll get everything you got coming to you.” Dinah collected her personal items and strolled out of the door.
“Dinah, hold up!” Baltimore hollered down the hall. “I wasn't thinking on asking you to leave. Dinah!”
“You can go straight to hell!” she hollered back.
When Baltimore stepped inside the room, his dander kicked up something terrible. So put off by the order of events, he could barely stand the sight of Dixie, especially after she had run off the lady he had intended on staying with. “Are you happy now? Huh?” he shouted. “I sho' hope so 'cause there's no sense in both of us trapped in a rut.”
“Settle down, lover. The very thought of you with that woman gives me the shakes.”
“How you think that niggah-hating husband of yours might hold up imagining the tricks you do with me?”
“If I didn't know better, a woman might get the wrong idea and get her feelings hurt. That colored girl's gone now. You don't have to pretend any longer that you'd rather I go.”
Baltimore drew in a measured breath and frowned wearily. “Pretend? Is that what you think, I was pretending? Oomph, if that ain't the damnedest thing I done heard all day,” he barked curtly. “You had no business coming here, Dixie, and that's just for starters.”
“Wait a minute!” she said, her voice rising. “I'd hate to be unreasonable, but unless all of that good loving of yours knocked one of my screws loose, you needed my help to rob Barker's heroin shipment.” When Baltimore's eyes exhibited his surprise, Dixie made it plain she had paid her dues and wasn't in any disposition to be shortchanged. “Oh, boy, don't tell me you thought I was in this for the pillow talk alone. I wasn't expecting to split the take down the middle, but I certainly didn't look for the old heave-ho on the back end.” While she had Baltimore wrapped up in his loss for words, Dixie sashayed up to him and nuzzled his hairy chest again. “Now don't you go getting all quiet on me,” she cooed softly. “What do you say we settle after getting down to the nuts and bolts of our arrangement? Hope you don't mind, I'd planned on rewarding myself first.” She ran her palm down his pants, easing her thin fingers inside of his zipper.
Baltimore was taken aback by the woman who had a lot to gain, but he hadn't counted on cutting her in. Additionally, it was especially annoying when discovering he hadn't masterminded the takedown of Baker's shady enterprise alone and that caused him to react in a hurtful way. “If business is what you came here for then you shouldn't have chased off my company. Dinah was all pleasure and then some. You can get a second opinion from Barker.”
Dixie's face tightened. She couldn't believe her ears. “You really weren't playing around? That girl, you do want her more than me?” She gasped, pulling her hand from inside his boxer drawers. “You-you ungrateful animal!” she ranted, clawing at his face. “I'm nobody's fool. I'll show you who you're messing with.”
“Cut it out, Dixie, it's over,” Baltimore argued, diligently blocking her frenzied blows. “Stop it, now!”
She tore at his clothing, ripping the pricey shirt he'd moments before slipped on. “I'll get you, you black bastard!”
“You need to quit ... this ... foolishness before somebody gets hurt,” he said, growing tired of defending himself. He snarled and grabbed Dixie by the arms, then dragged her toward the door. Fueled by spite, she wasn't willing to go quietly. Baltimore needed her to leave and in a hurry before his prediction became an unfortunate reality. Digging in her heels, Dixie tussled mightily. She struggled to remain inside of the room.
Her husband's Ford, which she'd parked in the alley, was being hitched to the tow truck, after Etta reported it blocking her back door. The white truck driver heard what he figured to be a couple working out the kinks in their relationship, but he couldn't tell which room it was coming from, nor did he care, for he assumed both the man and woman were colored.