Rovers

by RICHARD LANGE

  Claudine introduced Jesse to him in St. Louis in 1903, a year before she died. She and Beaumont had traveled around Europe together before she came to the US, and after listening to the two of them wax rapturous about their adventures, Jesse suspected they’d been lovers. He asked Claudine if this was so, but all she did was make a joke, saying, “How dare you? Don’t you know you’re the first man I’ve ever been with?” What’s true is that when Jesse next saw Beaumont, this time in New Orleans in 1920 or thereabouts, and informed him that Claudine had been dusted, the man wept like a child.

  He and Edgar visited him on a couple of occasions after that, the last time being twenty years ago when passing through Las Vegas, where Beaumont had been living for a while. They met at a bar, and Beaumont spent the entire evening reminiscing about Claudine, bursting into tears once again as he described her dancing on a beach in Spain. His recollections kicked open the door to Jesse’s own past, and for months afterward he was tormented by memories of Claudine. Unwilling to risk such anguish again, he hasn’t contacted the man since.

  Now, though, he needs his guidance.

  He leaves the room at sundown, goes to the motel’s pay phone, and dials the old number he has for the legendary rover. After three rings a deep, French-accented voice says, “Hello?”

  Amadu Beaumont.

  “How long’s it been?” Beaumont asks when Jesse identifies himself.

  “Twenty years,” Jesse replies.

  “Too, too long,” Beaumont says. “To what do I owe the pleasure of hearing from you now?”

  Jesse is awkward on the telephone, has never gotten the hang of talking on it, so keeps the conversation short. He asks Beaumont if he knows of the Fiends.

  “The motorcycle gang?” Beaumont says. “I’ve heard the stories.”

  Jesse tells him what happened in Phoenix and says he’s calling in the hope he might have some ideas about how to handle the situation.

  “This is serious business,” Beaumont says. “I’ll need to think on it. Where are you now?”

  “Flagstaff,” Jesse says.

  “Come here, to Las Vegas. It’s a good place to hide, and we can meet in person to discuss things.”

  “I’ll call when we get there,” Jesse says. “Thanks for trying to help.”

  “Thank Claudine,” Beaumont says. “I’m only doing what she would have wanted.”

  Jesse hangs up and puts on the sunglasses Johona gave him. He’s feeling better. Not good, but better. Vegas is only four hours away, and at least they’re running to something now, instead of away.

  18

  J​ESSE’S CHANGED THE PLAN. WE’RE GOING TO LAS VEGAS TO see Monsieur Beaumont instead of Denver. Do you recall Monsieur Beaumont? Jesse asks me. Monsieur Beaumont’s a friend of mine. He likes to hear me sing. We visited him in New Orleans and in Las Vegas. He had a parrot that could speak French.

  He’s gonna help Jesse figure out what to do about the Fiends. That’s what Jesse tells Johona when we’re eating at Denny’s. What about me? Johona says. Jesse says Monsieur Beaumont’s gonna try to help her too so she should come with us. However things turn out, he says, it’ll be a shorter bus ride to L.A. for you. Johona pretends to mull this but I can see she’s happy Jesse’s keeping her around. Every time I look up she’s touching him or he’s touching her and neither pays me any mind.

  I go to aping what they say. I do it louder and louder till Jesse tells me to leave off. I ain’t your sweetheart, I say, I ain’t the bad luck. Watch your mouth, Jesse says and Johona tells us to calm down.

  We leave for Las Vegas. I ride shotgun with Abby on my lap and count broke-down cars. Johona asks Jesse to turn on the radio and he does. If it was me he’d have said no. Wolfman Jack plays Duke of Earl plays Honeycomb plays Maybe Baby by Buddy Holly.

  Out of the blue Johona says, Why don’t you let Edgar drive? Jesse says, I don’t know about that. Johona says, There’s hardly anybody on the road. She says, You want to drive don’t you Edgar? She might be fooling so I say, It don’t matter Jesse won’t let me. Sure he will, Johona says. You gonna be careful? Jesse says. 10-4 good buddy, I say.

  We come to Kingman and Jesse pulls into a filling station. He makes me check the oil. He makes me check the tires. Finally he says, She’s all yours, and hands me the keys. I get in the driver seat and start the engine. Headlights on, I say and pull the knob, brake off. I step on the clutch pedal push the stick to 1 and ease onto the highway. I give it gas and push the stick to 2 then 3. No faster than sixty, Jesse says. Aye aye Captain, I say.

  I drive all the way to Nevada and across the top of Hoover Dam. I go slow when I need to and fast when I need to. I keep the car between the lines even when it’s narrow. Jesse has me turn into the parking lot of a casino by Lake Mead. He tells me and Johona to wait while he goes inside. Johona asks what he’s doing. I tell her he’s dipping. What’s that? she says. Lifting wallets, I say, we need money. Oh, she says.

  Jesse comes out and tells me move over he’s driving now. We skirt the lake and the stars look like they’re floating in it. Then there’s Las Vegas. We drive real slow down the Strip. It’s got lights in more colors than I know to name. They scamper like mice around signs and up the sides of buildings. Jesse puts the windows down and Johona sticks her head out and howls like Wolfman Jack.

  Jesse stands by and lets me check us into the motel. I do it just right. He don’t have to say nothing. When we get to the room he turns his pockets out and his take from the casino spills on the bed. Did you really steal that? Johona says. Who told you that? Jesse says, I won it. Johona knows he’s lying but she don’t care. He counts the bills. How much did you get? Johona says. Close to two hundred, Jesse says. So can we go out and have some fun? Johona says. Just to eat, Jesse says, we’ve got to be careful. I say hot dogs and Johona says pizza. Jesse says we’ll get hot dogs tomorrow night. It’s him and her against me.

  The pizza place is full of noisy people. Jesse lets me play pinball and watch the man toss the dough. How I eat my slices is skin the cheese and lick the sauce off the crust. Jesse and Johona talk about Monsieur Beaumont. Jesse’s meeting him tomorrow night. I told him about you, he says to Johona. He wants me to bring you along.

  A boy at another table is staring. I make a scary face but he don’t quit. I stick out my tongue and he shoots me the finger. I ain’t having that. I pick up a knife and say, You best watch yourself I’ll cut that fucking finger right off. His daddy wants to fight. Jesse pushes between us and says he’s sorry says I’m simpleminded. The boy’s daddy says I ought not to be out if I don’t know how to behave.

  Jesse tells me to get my ass to the car and keeps pushing me and saying how stupid I am. Johona tries to cool him off. It’s no big deal, she says, the kid was a brat. I stop walking and start crying. I ain’t stupid. I ain’t simpleminded. I’ll beat you black and blue if you don’t get a move on, Jesse says. That’s no way for brothers to talk, Johona says. We’re standing by some slot machines. She holds out a handful of quarters. Feeling lucky? she says to me. Stop crying and you can have these.

  She lets me pick the game. Star-Spangled Sevens. I put in a quarter and pull the handle. A red seven comes up a white seven and nothing. You got to get three sevens to win anything. I put another quarter in and another and another and lose every time. I ain’t lucky. I ain’t never been lucky. I put my last quarter in and pull. Come on, Johona says, big winner.

  Click click click. A red a white and a blue seven. The game goes to whooping and quarters rain into the tray. I’m hooting and Johona’s hooting and even Jesse’s got a smile. That’s when darkness falls like a hood over my head like when I seen the wop in the mine. This time I see Jesse walking on a road as the sun rises. Walking and not worried about getting burned up. Quick as it came the picture goes.

  I seen you in the desert, I say to Jesse. What are you talking about? he says. You remember the wop? I say. I just seen you walking in the daytime. Jesse looks at me strange. You were having some kind of dream, he
says.

  I know you got to be sleeping to dream but I let it lie. I scoop the quarters into a cup and Johona takes me to the money lady. She empties the cup into a counting machine and it adds up to ten dollars and twenty-five cents. I’m rich, I say but ten dollars ain’t rich.

  Jesse drops me and Johona at the motel and goes out again. We look at TV and play cards till he gets back. He’s been dipping again. Las Vegas is the best town for it. Everybody’s got money and everybody’s drunk. Jesse scored big and he’s brought Johona a green dress and me a plastic pirate sword. Johona puts the dress on. It matches your eyes, Jesse says. She gives him a kiss don’t even care I’m watching. I poke Abby with the sword till she hisses. The sun’s up when we go to bed. Jesse and Johona keep me awake with their whispering and giggling.

  The circus man hanging upside down above us got a girl by the hands. He throws her to another man. All us watching go to clapping and whistling and the circus folks drop into a net and take a bow. A fella comes out with a pack of dogs. One in a top hat one in a dress. They commence to dancing on their hind legs jumping through hoops and pushing a pram.

  I turn to tell Jesse we should get us a pup and catch him kissing Johona. She’s wearing the new dress. The Little Devil gives me a kick and says, I told you that bitch was trouble. When the dogs is done the fancy man says, Ladies and gentlemen boys and girls that’s our show for tonight. On behalf of Circus Circus and our performers I bid you good evening and wish you the best of luck.

  I begged Jesse to bring me here and he said okay even though he’s still worried about the Fiends seeing us. They got games upstairs. The one where you knock over milk bottles the one where you pop balloons the one where you toss rope rings. They’re all gaffed but Jesse worked in a carnival so knows the tricks. Put some backspin on it, he says when I’m trying to throw baseballs into a peach basket but the balls still bounce out. Jesse steps up and—one two three—makes all his shots. He tells the lady to give me the rubber lizard I was playing for. Johona wants a stuffed bear. To get it, Jesse has to shoot a paper star with a machine gun. He does it his second try. Better’n Al Capone, I say.

  We drive to Caesar’s Palace. Monsieur Beaumont is waiting for us in a bar wearing a white suit. He’s got six scars across his forehead. I asked him once did a lion get him over in Africa. He said the scars was a sign to show people what tribe he was in. I asked him did his tribe live in teepees and he said they got houses.

  He shakes my hand and says, It’s been a long time Monsieur Edgar. Do you still sing? I sure damn do, I say, want to hear something? He says maybe later. When he sees Johona his eyes get big and he presses his palms together like he’s praying. You were right, he says to Jesse. It’s incredible. She’s the very image of Claudine. He takes Johona’s hand and kisses her three times. It is a pleasure to meet you my dear, he says.

  A lady’s playing piano. Monsieur Beaumont pours some champagne for Jesse and Johona and Jesse says I can have some too. I ain’t never had champagne before. It’s got bubbles and smells like sour milk. Jesse asks Monsieur Beaumont if he’s got any ideas for what to do about the Fiends. I’ve been asking around, Monsieur Beaumont says, and I may have found someone who can put me in touch with them. The first step is to see if they’re willing to negotiate and perhaps accept some form of restitution in lieu of revenge. Will you do that for us? Jesse says. Monsieur Beaumont takes Johona’s hand again and says, How can I say no after seeing this beautiful creature? She mustn’t come to any harm. Thank you, Johona says.

  The piano lady is singing that song about Moon River. Monsieur Beaumont comes out of his swoon and says to Jesse, Of course I can’t guarantee anything. Stealing the infant, dusting one of their comrades. If it’s even possible to arrange a settlement the price will be steep. Whatever it takes, Jesse says.

  Monsieur Beaumont turns to me and Johona and says, Would you mind leaving us for a moment? We need to speak privately. Johona looks to Jesse. Everything’s fine, he says.

  Me and Johona go to the casino. She gets two paper rolls of quarters and we pick a couple slot machines. I put in half my quarters and don’t win nothing. Then I get three oranges and the game goes to flashing and making noise but only a few coins come out. Johona keeps looking over to the bar. I tell her you got to pay attention if you want to win. A girl showing lots of leg asks do we want cocktails. I say to bring me a Coca-Cola with a cherry in it.

  My quarters is about gone by the time Jesse and Monsieur Beaumont come over. Monsieur Beaumont kisses Johona again and says, Farewell for now. I hope to see you again when there’s time to become better acquainted. Why you leaving so soon? I ask him, you didn’t even hear me sing. Let’s have a quick one, he says. How about Meet Me Tonight in Dreamland. I start right in: Meet me tonight in dreamland under the silvery moon meet me tonight in dreamland where love’s sweet roses bloom. He claps when I finish and says, Bravo!

  19

  June 29, 1976, Las Vegas, Nevada

  T​IME OFTEN SLOWED TO A STAGGER THIS PAST YEAR AS I TRACED and retraced Benny’s last steps, following the trail of postmarks on the cards he sent you. Five minutes in Eureka could seem like an hour, an hour in San Francisco like ten hours, a week in L.A. like an eternity.

  The past few days, however, have flown by, full of enough tribulation for a lifetime. I feel like a meteor hurtling toward earth, falling faster and faster, growing hotter and hotter, about to explode.

  I woke an hour before dawn yesterday, bought a couple of hamburgers from the truck stop’s restaurant, and took them to the kid in the camper. He wolfed the first sandwich down, drank from a jug of water, belched, and started on the second.

  “What’s your name, man?” he asked me.

  My coffee was kicking in, so I played along. “What’s yours, man?”

  “Sal,” the kid said. “Cats call me Sally.”

  “Cats call me Charles.”

  “Cool,” Sally said. His gold tooth flashed when he grinned. “Charles meet Sally, Sally meet Charles.” He finished the burger and licked his fingers. “So the old man’s dead?” he asked in an offhand way, like he was trying to trick me into answering.

  “He is,” I replied.

  “And I’m working for you now.”

  “I’ll be using you the same as he did,” I said.

  “Well, you’re already a better bossman,” Sally said. “I found rovers for him for ten years, and he never told me his name or asked for mine. It was nothing but, ‘Get out of the box,’ and, ‘Get in the truck.’”

  “Cross me, and you’ll wish he was still around,” I said.

  “I know my place,” Sally said. He grimaced and rolled his head as if his neck hurt. “You mind if I stand and stretch?”

  I took Czarnecki’s .45 from my pocket. Frail as the kid was, I wasn’t too worried about him overpowering me, but I also wasn’t taking any chances. He got to his feet, lifted his shackled arms as high as he could, and flexed his shackled legs.

  “I used to be hell on the dance floor,” he said. “Doubt I’d last one number now.”

  It was my first time conversing with a rover. I was curious. “How old are you?” I asked him.

  “I was born in ’27, in Nowheresville, Iowa, but took off for New York as soon as I could,” he said.

  “Is that where it happened?” I said. “Where you…” I was unsure how to put it.

  “Where I became a creature of the night?” Sally said, joking. “Yeah, that’s where.”

  “How?” I said. “Why?”

  “The old man has a jar of peanut butter there in the cupboard,” Sally said. “Let me at it, and I’ll tell you what you want to know.”

  I took the jar down and gave it to him, along with a spoon I found in a drawer. He unscrewed the lid and dug in, scooping and licking while he talked.

  “I met this cat in New York,” he said. “A colored cat like you, a trumpet player. His name was Daniel Carson, but everybody called him DC. We started making the scene together. It was just kicks at firs
t, a good time, but we ended up real tight. I knew he was a rover, but I didn’t care. I thought it was kinda cool, kinda sexy. I even let him feed off me—got off on it, in fact.

  “It was my idea he turn me. We had a good thing, and I wanted to keep it going. And it was good, for almost eight years. We bummed around, played gigs, got in trouble, got out of trouble, wore five-hundred-dollar suits, three-hundred-dollar shoes. It was a real gas. But then he got dusted.”

  He paused, overcome by emotion. When he tried to go on, he couldn’t. “I’m done,” he said. He handed me the peanut butter jar and lay back in the crate. “You’re not gonna hold me being queer against me, are you?” he asked.

  I was thinking of Benny, you know I was.

  “No,” I said. “I won’t hold it against you.”

  I closed the lid and snapped the locks into place. As I was leaving the camper, stepping out into the new day blooming, he called to me again.

  “Where we headed?”

  “I haven’t decided,” I said.

  “Vegas,” he said. “If you’re looking for rovers, that’s where you should go.”

  The rising sun set the mountains on fire. I stood in the parking lot, marveling at the sight and wondering if it was a message from God, and if so, what it meant. I came up with nothing, which proves, I guess, that I don’t have the imagination to be a prophet, so it’s a good thing I’ve been called to be a killer.

  Taking the kid’s advice, I set off across the desert. Six hours of sand, rock, and sun, of ruler-straight stretches of shimmering asphalt and mountains as sharp and menacing as wolves’ teeth. I stopped in Death Valley to top off the radiator and buy a cold drink. A thermometer at the service station read 116°. I had to squint in the glare, and the soles of my shoes stuck to the blacktop.