Mystery of the Dark Tower (12 page)

Bessie spied a clock through a storefront window as she walked by. It was seven o'clock already She needed to hurry. She pulled off her shoes and carried them in her hands. Now people stared as she whizzed by them, her shoes swinging in her hands.

The farther Bessie walked, the fancier the people were dressed. Finally, she was near Jungle Alley. Once when they were “airing out,” Aunt Nellie had told Bessie that the part of Harlem called Jungle Alley was nothing but cabarets and nightclubs. She said it was a “hot spot—no children allowed.” Bessie was glad she didn't have to pass through Jungle Alley.

Just as she passed a place called Tillie's Chicken Shack, an old man whipped his hand out quicker than a frog catching flies. He caught Bessie by the arm. “Where you going in such a speedy hurry, girl?”

Bessie pulled away, frightened. “Please, turn me loose,” she said. She could see that the man was drunk.

“You a pretty thing,” the man said, not letting go of Bessie's arm. She tried to jerk away, but he grabbed her and pulled her toward him. Bessie spun around and kicked him. Then she ran.

The old man stumbled after her. Bessie's heart pounded furiously Would he hurt her? She frantically looked around to see if anyone was paying attention. People seemed not to notice the commotion. Bessie realized that they thought she was a grown woman and could take care of herself.

Bessie reached a corner. She looked around and spotted a broken cobblestone. She picked it up, turned, and took aim.
Bang
. The rock smashed into a doorpost just as the man passed by it.

It took him a moment to realize Bessie had thrown it. “Go on. Git!” he yelled at her. “I don't want to be bothered with you anyhow.”

Bessie ran and didn't slow down until she realized she had run right into Jungle Alley. She was tired and out of breath. Her stomach flipped over and over. Should she go back home? This was dangerous.

But she couldn't. She was going to the Dark Tower. Bessie took a deep breath and began walking briskly. Her only thoughts were about Papa. She must make Papa come back. Then she must make Papa go see about Mama and fix everything. There was nothing else to do.

C
HAPTER
10

T
HE
D
ARKEST
H
OUR

Bessie hurried through Jungle Alley. Lights flashed, car horns blared, and words blinked on marquees along the street. Bessie's legs were tired, her feet swollen and cut, and she wanted to go back home. She slowed down near Small's Paradise, where Aunt Nellie used to work. Bessie was staring up at the building, giving herself a breather, when she recognized a voice—Aunt Nellie! She was coming down the street, talking loudly to a man. “Yes, I
do
want my job back,” Bessie could hear her saying.

Bessie quickly moved closer to the shadowy entrance of a building. She lowered her head and pulled down the flop hat. Bessie couldn't run now or Aunt Nellie would notice her. She shifted on her legs and held her breath.

They passed so close that Bessie could smell the jasmine perfume Aunt Nellie was wearing. Luckily, Aunt Nelhe was so busy talking, she didn't notice anyone. The minute Bessie saw them go inside a door, she ran.

She slowed to a snail's pace when she rounded the corner onto 136th Street. She was nearing the Dark Tower. Her chest seared with pain. She limped on her sore feet, panting. Bessie admitted to herself now that she feared the Dark Tower more than anything in her life. The image she had of it was something dark and ugly, like the no-headed man Papa told her about on spooky nights. But she could not afford to let fear stop her. She had to save her family. Nothing was going to stop her from finding Papa.

Heart pounding, Bessie counted the numbers on the huge building fronts. But once she stood across from number 108, she was confused. This
couldn't
be the Dark Tower. Bessie checked the numbers on nearby buildings again. No, this had to be the right place. The building was tall, with three floors of windows. But it wasn't dark or ugly.
Maybe the dark ugliness is on the inside
, Bessie thought.
Maybe it snatches you up the minute you come through the door
.

Bessie walked slowly toward the Dark Tower, counting her steps as she got closer and closer. At the door she spotted a big knocker shaped like the head of a fierce lion. Bessie shivered. Suppose they wouldn't let her in? She looked down at her legs. Her stockings looked terrible. Bessie slipped the shoes onto her swollen feet.

She took a deep breath and readied her hand to bang the knocker. She touched it and squeezed her eyes shut.

Then she heard laughter behind her. She saw a large group of people crossing the street together, laughing and talking loudly. They were all so busy kidding around that Bessie was sure they hadn't seen her. She ran and hid behind the front fender of one of the fancy cars parked along the curb.

She watched one of the men in the crowd bang the lion hard when they reached the door. In a few seconds, a tall colored man wearing a maroon uniform and a white wig opened the door.

Bessie waited for the right moment. When all the people were busy walking in and handing their hats and furs to an attendant, Bessie darted from her hiding place and slipped in among the crowd of people.

Her heart pounded as she passed through the doorway of the Dark Tower. She knew she had only a moment to decide which way to go. Her eyes darted past the entry-way. To her right was a large room packed with people laughing and talking. The curving stairway to her left was her only escape. Bessie scooted up the stairs.

At the landing she turned down a long, shadowy hallway. She slipped into the first door she came to. It was a small closet. She knelt down and shut the door quietly, listening to hear if anyone had followed her up the stairs. She heard laughter and loud music blasting from downstairs. Bessie put her ear to the door. She didn't hear any sounds directly outside.

Bessie cracked open the door and looked out. She didn't see anyone. Cautiously she stepped out. The thick rug running down the hallway made her feel like she was walking on a bed. Bessie knew she wouldn't make much noise walking on it.

She moved down the hall, looking behind her every few seconds. She tried the glass knob of the first door she passed. It was locked. As she walked along, jiggling each doorknob, she discovered that every door was locked except the last one. It opened easily, and Bessie slipped inside, shutting the door behind her. The lights were on. Bessie felt swallowed up in the immense, beautiful room.

A large desk with spindly curved legs sat in the center of the room. A statue of a woman sat atop another carved piece of furniture. Arranged around the room were chairs covered in blue velvet and decorated with carvings of lions and other figures. Some of the vases in the room were as tall as Bessie. She walked over to a black piano in one corner. Its gold trim and ivory keys gleamed in the lamplight. The piano's top was open, and Bessie peeped inside.

Bessie warned herself that she should be looking for Papa and not gawking at all the beautiful things. Somewhere in this room might be a clue to Papa's whereabouts. She hurried over to the desk. She opened one drawer and then another. In the middle drawer she found a gold key ring with two long, skinny keys on it. Maybe those keys would unlock some of the other doors. One of the rooms might even be Papa's!

Bessie grabbed the keys and turned toward the door. Then she took a deep breath and stopped. She couldn't believe her eyes. Painted on the wall by the door was the poem “The Weary Blues.” She stood still, mesmerized by the words. Then she heard the thud of a door closing down the hall. She'd better find Papa quick, before someone found her.

She slipped into the hallway and hurriedly tried the keys in one locked door after another. None of the doors opened. Then Bessie heard voices coming up the steps. Her hands shook as she tried the keys in another lock. The lock didn't turn. She quickly went to the next door. Still nothing. Bessie looked toward the stairs. The voices were closer, almost at the landing. What could she do? She didn't have time to get back down the long hallway to the unlocked room. She stuck the key in the next door. She closed her eyes and prayed that it would work. The key turned the lock. She ducked into the room and shut the door.

She rested against the door, trying to calm her pounding heart. She listened, praying that whoever was coming up the stairs wasn't headed for this room. Finally, she took a deep breath and turned around to see where she was. A crystal chandelier lit the room. A huge, cloth-covered object sat on a table in the center of the room. By the window stood an A-shaped wooden structure. A large white board leaned against its top half, held in place by a wooden trough that ran across the middle of the structure. Paints in little tubes and tins were on a table next to it.

Then Bessie spotted something familiar on a desk. It looked like one of Papa's old work shirts. She walked over and picked it up. She smelled it. It was definitely Papa's. She could smell his spicy scent. Bessie examined the shirt. It was speckled with many different colors, just like the shirts in his suitcase.

Next to the desk sat a black satchel that looked like the one Lillian had described. With shaking fingers, Bessie unbuckled the satchel and looked inside. It was filled with tubes of paint and more brushes—the same little paint tins and brushes with gold bands on them that the man at the rent party had given Papa. Papa's secret. Papa was here. In the Dark Tower. Now all Bessie had to do was find him and make him see that he needed to come back home with her.

Just then a man's voice boomed right outside the door. Bessie froze. She saw the doorknob turn and heard the voice say, “I'll bring it down now.”

Bessie needed to hide. But where? There was a cot against the far wall, but the bed linens were missing. Bessie ran for the table in the center of the room that held the tall covered object. She scurried under the tablecloth. She squatted down and tried to stop her heart from beating so fast. Her chest hurt and her throat burned. Her legs ached terribly as she crouched there waiting.

She heard the man open the door and walk into the room. Then she realized he was removing whatever was on top of the table. And he was taking the tablecloth with it. Bessie held her breath. She could not make a sound or the man might look under the table.

With the tablecloth gone, Bessie could see the man. He was a colored man dressed very nicely in a dark blue suit, but he didn't have on any socks with his shoes. Bessie watched him struggle to carry the covered object to the door.

Near the door, he set the bundle down and leaned it against the wall. He reached along the wall and switched off the lights. Then he picked up the big bundle again and walked out, shutting the door behind him.

Bessie crawled out from under the table and dusted herself off. She had to find Papa. She took a step and heard a crunching sound. She had stepped on something. She bent down to pick it up. It was an expensive-looking watch, and she had broken the glass top.

Suddenly the light came back on. A tall, well-dressed white man stood in the doorway. “Who have we here?” he said.

Bessie felt as though she were choking.

“What are you doing here?” he asked. “Does A'Lelia know you're in here? What's that in your hand?”

Bessie wanted to cry.

“Let me see that,” he said, taking the watch from Bessie. “Where did you get this, little girl?”

“I-I-I found it,” Bessie stammered.
What if he thinks I stole it?
Bessie thought. What if Papa finds out? He would be so ashamed of her. But she didn't steal it. And Papa should be ashamed of
himself
—not Bessie.

“Come with me,” the man said, pulling Bessie by the hand.

“Please. I found it,” Bessie pleaded, as the man pulled her along. “That man with no socks on, he must have dropped it.”

The man took her down the hallway and into the room with the poem on the wall. He called out the door to someone, “Ask A'Lelia to come up here, please.”

Bessie fingered her Memaw necklace. It would protect her from evil.

The man turned back to Bessie. “Have a seat. She'll be here in a minute.”

Bessie didn't want to sit, but her feet hurt from the shoes and her knees were weak. She sat down on the edge of a velvet chair, waiting. What would A'Lelia Walker do to her? Suppose this woman
was
the devil? Would she throw Bessie out without even letting her see Papa? Would she get Papa and say his thieving daughter was here? Would she call the police? Or would she do something even more horrible to Bessie?

Bessie saw the door opening slowly. She squeezed her eyes shut. She prayed that it was Papa and not Miss Walker. She opened her eyes slowly. But her prayer was not answered. A tall woman strode into the room. She walked over to Bessie and stood directly in front of her.

Miss Walker wore a gold dress with diamonds on it. A fancy gold turban was wrapped around her jet-black hair. Her earrings sparkled in the light. Bessie had never seen a woman so tall or so—she hated to think it, but it was true—beautiful. She didn't look like a devil, she looked like a queen.