Ms. Etta's Fast House (27 page)
Read Ms. Etta's Fast House Online
Authors: Victor McGlothin
In the moment of truth, the lawyer swallowed hard and removed his spectacles. “Who was the woman, Penny?”
“That white lady all the fuss is over,” she said, making an ugly face like those words left a bitter taste in her mouth. “In the paper, they say her name is Dixie Sinclair. She's the wife of that mean policeman called Barker.”
Albert was so relieved. He'd been holding the anticipation in so long his head almost exploded onto the table. “Penny, you've done a very good thing,” he said wearily. “Mr. Floyd's going to be quite proud of you.”
“He's not gonna be cross with me for spying on him none?”
“I can't see how he could,” Albert predicted, from an extremely poor vantage point. He didn't realize it then but his job had just gotten a whole lot harder.
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n the lower level of the county lockup, Baltimore rested while recuperating from his arrest and surgery as best he could. The male nurse assigned to the medical care ward played checkers with an injured inmate in what scarcely could have been considered a clinic. It didn't amount to much more than a twenty-by-twenty-foot room with cots and a table with cotton balls and rolls of bandages aligned on it. Patients with serious ailments were generally carted off to various hospitals, depending on their race, under armed guard.
n the lower level of the county lockup, Baltimore rested while recuperating from his arrest and surgery as best he could. The male nurse assigned to the medical care ward played checkers with an injured inmate in what scarcely could have been considered a clinic. It didn't amount to much more than a twenty-by-twenty-foot room with cots and a table with cotton balls and rolls of bandages aligned on it. Patients with serious ailments were generally carted off to various hospitals, depending on their race, under armed guard.
Baltimore was somewhat of an enigma because of his impromptu surgery and the bi-racial staff which performed it. His celebrity status grew once rumblings of his near death beating circulated among the other six hundred inmates. Several colored convicts sent him treats from their personal commissary accounts. Although Baltimore wasn't a fan of sweets, he respected their kindness and generosity knowing how prisoners coveted their snacks as prized possessions. The shoe box beneath his bed stored the assortment of chips and mini-cakes. Baltimore shared them with a mentally challenged patient named Husky Maywood, who had recently eaten a hand full of mothballs thinking they were candy mints. After having his stomach pumped, Husky was on suicide watch, because they couldn't classify his behavior otherwise without shipping him off to an insane asylum. That was a fate worse then death for a slightly retarded man serving six months for stealing smokehouse steaks to feed his mongrel dog.
Baltimore had taken a liking to Husky, too slow for his age and too big for his small IQ. His dark complexion was dusky and dry. His hair was matted on his round head and looked as if it never once had a comb pulled through it. It was hard and bristly but the man's heart was soft as butter, something Baltimore believed was set aside for women, children and fools. Husky barely qualified by the skin of his severely bucked teeth.
“Tell me another one Baltimo',” Husky begged after he'd heard his new acquaintance spin the third parable of the day. “I like the way you tell them bible stories.” As he bit on a chocolate cupcake one tiny morsel at a time, like a last meal, his eyes impatiently anticipated another tale.
“All right, Husky, I'll tell you one that I heard as a lil' chip on my papa's knee. Well, it seems some time ago that this king they called Herod ruled over the land. Everyone was getting along just fine until some pretty smart fellas called wise men showed up at his castle looking for the place where the King of the Jews, a baby, was to be born.”
“Why was they looking for the baby?” Husky asked naively, with crumbs wedged in the corners of his mouth.
“The ruler wanted to kill him 'cause he was afraid the boy would take his kingdom and put him out in the cold. Nah, old Herod wasn't about to let that happen, so he went out and got some fancy thinkers to figure out where he could get the boy.” Baltimore grinned when he saw Husky's starry eyes shining brightly as he nibbled cake continually. “Yeah, he tried to work the wise men in his favor but they had a dream, warning them that the old king was up to no good.”
“I'll say he wuddin, old rascal,” Husky agreed, with a frown exhibiting his distaste for the story's antagonist. “So did he get at that po' baby?”
“Uh-uh, but he did something terribly, terribly bad instead. When he couldn't find the baby boy, with his mama and papa, the king got mad. He then did a thing so rotten I don't even want to tell you about it.”
“Please, Baltimo', I gots to know now,” he whined. “Come on, pleeease?”
“Okay, but you asked for it,” Baltimore reminded him, just as he used to when reading bedtime stories to his younger sister. She would pull on his arm, pleading in the same way Husky did. And so he finished the tale like he always had. “Seeing as how King Herod couldn't locate the boy after a while passed, he sent a whole batch of his killers to the place where the wise men had gone to meet up with him.”
“Did the batch of scoundrels catch up with that lil' lamb?” he asked, wishing they hadn't.
“Not to speak of, but that's where the story takes a dive. Since they didn't come up with him after searching pole to pole, they got orders to kill all of the boys in town and nearby towns too, all younger than the age of two, guessing that's how old the child had to be then. He couldn't seem to get at the boy he wanted, so's he killed every other one hoping that'd do the trick.” When Baltimore noticed it had grown quiet in the clinic, he raised his head off the pillow and glanced over at Husky. The big fellow was holding himself and rocking back and forth in a disturbing manner. The tears, which watered his face, made Baltimore sorry for picking that particular bible tale.
“You was right, Baltimo', I didn't wanna know about all them dead chil'rens,” he wept, while slinking under the covers and pulling them up to his neck like a frightened child after hearing a ghoulish yarn. “That wuddin' fair, not a bit,” he groaned.
“Life is like that, Husky,” Baltimore said, reflecting on the many crimes he'd committed in the past and escapes pulled off by a hair. “Yeah, it just don't make a damned lick of sense,” he added, when it occurred to him how he had been falsely accused and imprisoned.
“I don't wanna hear nuthin' else about it. Nuthin',” the blubbering man complained.
“Husky, listen to me, it's a sad tale, but I think it might make you feel a lot better knowing that the lil' lamb that got away was none other than baby Jesus.”
“Oh, Lawd have mercy for that,” he whimpered, with hints of happiness in his eyes. “His papa spared him, and took the udders in his place?”
“That's right, Husky, that's right. And that baby boy grew up. He's been returning the favor on us every since,” Baltimore explained. “It's a hard pill to swallow, I know, and I aim to ask the Lord if all that was necessary if I ever make it to heaven.”
Husky shuddered softly beneath the sheets until a question came to him he wouldn't let pass without asking. “Baltimo', whut if you don't make it up there to see Him?”
“Then you can ask Him for me, Husky. I'd like that,” Baltimore answered as kindly as he could, imagining that's how it was likely to play out.
“It's good to see that you're a spiritual man,” Albert Hummel remarked as he approached Baltimore's cot. “It doesn't mean much in the courtroom unless you can get a believer on the witness stand.”
“Hi ya, lawyer man,” Baltimore greeted him amicably. “I ain't been much on believing lately, especially when paddling upstream don't seem to be getting any easier. My pappy is a fire and brimstone preacher, but he can't stand the sight of me. Huh, it'd strike his fancy to know I ended up like this. He always said I was living in a fool's paradise. Up 'til now, I'd have sworn he was wrong.”
Albert pulled a metal folding chair to the bedside and shook his client's hand. “You're getting along much better than the last time I saw you. And after what I'm going to lay on you, you'll feel even better yet.” The lawyer opened his brown leather satchel and reached inside. “Every now and then a miracle falls from the sky. Here's one for the books if I do say so myself.” Albert grinned and cleared his throat. He handed the deposition toward Baltimore before a renegade thought occurred to him. “I'm sorry, Mr. Floyd, I didn't think to ask. Can you read?”
“How are you gone fix your mouth to insult me while reaching your hands in my pocket? Sure, I can read and write. On a good day, I can decipher Latin,” Baltimore quipped. He snatched the papers from his attorney and sneered at him as long as he could before laughing so hard he nearly ripped his stitches. “Don't go getting bent out of shape, Albert. I's just funning with you. Us colored boys keep a sense of humor handy. It pays to, nowadays.”
“Well, I'm glad you didn't take offense,” Albert remarked, with an extreme sigh of relief.
“Oh, you don't get off that easy. I'm offended plenty but you don't know no better so I won't hold your ignorance against you. Let's take a look at this and see if it was worth leaving your cushy office to show me.”
Not quite sure how to respond, Albert cleared his throat again and leaned in, lowering the pitch of his voice for the sake of confidentiality. “As you can see, this is a bomb we can drop on the prosecution's case. It proves that you and Dixie Sinclair had been involved in a consensual affair. The fact that she was in your room only strengthens this deposition.” The trace of a smile he'd worn quickly faded when Baltimore's hand clinched into a fist. “What's wrong? Is there a problem?”
“Yeah, I've got a big one,” Baltimore responded, in a manner puzzling to his legal advisor. “I didn't have no idea Penny was looking in my window or I'd have been more secretive.”
“Well, it's a good thing you were not as discreet as you thought. It's like I said, some times a miracle falls when you least expect it.”
“You're gonna have to cancel that miracle, Mr. Hummel,” Baltimore demanded, using a formal tone. “I can't let that child climb up into the witness chair, in front of all those people and testify. They'll hit her with all the hate they've been saving up for me. She's too good to be ruined on account of my mischief. I'd just as soon hang first. Anyway, Dinah Leonard's the one you want. She can vouch that I didn't have to take nothing off the white lady.” Baltimore was still bothered that Dixie had neglected to fess up to their torrid affair.
“Mr. Floyd, I've met Penny and I agree, she's a doll, but you may very well be faced with the most extreme penalty if we lose this case. Now, hear me out before you make up your mind. The D.A. is going full speed on this. At nine o'clock this morning he dropped the charges against that colored police cadet who shot his wife and that young doctor at Etta Adams's night club so he can concentrate on railroading you.”
Baltimore was astonished. His stomach churned as he replayed the deadly scene in his mind. “I was there, man. I seen Willie B. Bernard do it in cold blood. You're telling me they just opened up the gate and let him go free?”
“The travesties don't stop there. So far we haven't been able to find Ms. Leonard, and the district attorney is petitioning for the trial to start in ten days.”
Baltimore's eyes displayed with inconsolable surprise. “Why'd they get in such a hurry? It's not like I'm going nowhere.”
“They're afraid if it doesn't get under way soon, there'll be retaliation from the locals. My office is swarmed with death threats from the Ku Klux Klan for representing you. What Penny saw could save your life, Mr. Floyd. I'm not certain that anything else will. Can you give it some thought before turning it down?” Albert's question stayed unanswered so long he couldn't be sure Baltimore heard it. “Mr. Floyd?”
“I heard you just fine. But, I got to draw a line in the sand,” he replied eventually. “I know you're risking a lot helping me and I'm grateful. It might be a heap better for everybody if I throw the case and let them string me up.” Baltimore didn't mean it, but he reasoned Penny's life was more valuable than his own.
“Unless miracles come in pairs, that line in the sand of yours could very well put you in the death house. Being a man of principle is one thing, but this is loony!” Albert bellowed louder than he meant to.
“Now I know I'm in the right place,” a man's deep voice sounded from the door of the small room. Henry, dressed in his daily uniform, strolled in. “Baltimo' Floyd swearing off somebody's help because he's too pigheaded to accept a hand up. If that don't beat all.”
Baltimore felt a sudden chill roll over him when he heard Henry's voice. He propped another pillow behind his back and peered toward the gentle oaf in the next cot. “Husky, remind me to tell you the one about the prodigal son. It's got these two brothers in it, who parted ways over money, fast times and overripe envy. It's a doozie.” Husky nodded slowly, closed his sad eyes and then drifted off to sleep.
“I can see you need some time to work out matters,” Albert said, as he stood from his chair. Baltimore returned the deposition and he stuffed it back in his fancy satchel. “I'll stop by in a few days. We'll keep looking for that missing witness.” He glared suspiciously at Henry in his brand spanking new uniform, wondering why his client was taking meetings with the local police. It didn't add up, so he made a mental note to inquire about it with Etta later.
Curiosity had spun its shameless web on Henry. He had to stop in and see for himself. A man unjustly accused was as rare as a two-headed snake. Henry was positive of Baltimore's innocence because he'd been a close friend, through thick and thin, and never once knew him to force his desires on any woman. He didn't have it in him, to be that kind of man, under any circumstances. Of all the fights, shoot outs, and tough spots Baltimore landed in, it was inconceivable for Henry to think of him as anything less than unflappable. “They finally caught you dead to rights?” Henry said lightly, not ready to believe his eyes.
“Yeah, they caught me with my pants on backwards all right but they got it all wrong.”
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