Previously Loved Treasures

by Bette Lee Crosby

  “One drink?” Maggie Sue giggled. “Why, one drink ain’t hardly worth a girl’s time.”

  “How about I’ll keep buying long as you keep drinking?”

  “Oh, Maxie, you’re such a tease.” She gave another breathless giggle, an unwritten invitation. “Twenty minutes. I’ll get all prettied up.”

  “Wear that red dress,” Max suggested, “you know, the one I like.”

  After he hung up the phone, Max settled at the bar and ordered a bourbon. “I’m gonna run a tab,” he told Freddie. “So when Maggie Sue gets here, keep ’em coming.”

  Freddie rolled his eyes. “You gonna actually pay this tab, or is it going to be another night when you forgot and left your wallet home?”

  “Shithead,” Max grumbled.

  ~ ~ ~

  Maggie Sue showed up a half-hour later.

  “I thought you said twenty minutes,” Max grumped.

  “So I’m a little late.” Maggie Sue flashed a smile and twirled herself around. “Ain’t this worth waiting for?”

  She scooted herself onto the stool alongside Max, then ordered rye and ginger. “Double up on the rye,” she added, and Max smiled.

  Before the first drink was downed, Max had his hand on her knee and edged it upward. They drank too much, laughed too loud, and stayed until Freddie announced he had to close up. “You gonna settle up this bill?”

  Max pointed his index finger at Freddie like it was a gun. “Catch you tomorrow.” He laughed, then circled his arm around Maggie’s waist and headed for the door. As they left he leaned in and whispered, “I’ve got a bottle of bourbon in my room, so how’s about a nightcap?”

  Maggie Sue nodded.

  They climbed into Max’s car and headed back to the boarding house.

  “You allowed to have lady friends in your room?” Maggie asked.

  With a considerable amount of bourbon sloshing around in his stomach, Max had a bravado that was outsized even for him. “Shit, yeah,” he answered. “I can do whatever I please. My brother’s the one who built the damn house.”

  When he pulled alongside the curb Maggie Sue looked at the house, which in the shadow of moonlight seemed larger than its size. “Wow,” she said, “you own this place?”

  “It ain’t been decided yet,” he said and slid his key into the lock.

  Even though Maggie bumped up against the hall table on her way in, no one heard them or at least no one got out of bed and snapped a light on. Max’s room was in the back of the house on the first floor, and once they were inside with the padlock clicked shut no one would bother them.

  ~ ~ ~

  After a night of what Max considered a howling good time, Maggie Sue woke wanting coffee.

  “Stay here,” he said, “I’ll go get some.”

  It was hours after breakfast, but Laricka and Harriet drank coffee all day long so there was sure to be a pot sitting on the back burner. Max slipped into the kitchen and pulled two mugs from the cupboard. He filled the mugs, slid two biscuits in the pocket of his robe, and started back to his room. Wilbur sat in the front parlor, and when he saw Max heading down the hall with two mugs it aroused suspicion. It was true that Wilbur had no love of Max, but neither did he go around looking for trouble from the man. That was, until now.

  Ida had set down firm rules for the house. Everyone knew the rules and abided by them. Even with her gone, the rules stayed in place. It was an unwritten debt of respect that no one questioned or disregarded.

  Had it not been for seeing Max with those two mugs, Wilbur would have finished the newspaper then moved on with his day. But after what he saw he remained in the parlor, waiting and watching. Two hours later, Wilbur heard the padlock click open. Moments after that Max and his friend came tiptoeing out of the room. Maggie Sue still wore the red dress, but since she’d pulled it in on in a hurry the back of the skirt was hiked up and caught in her panties.

  “Good morning,” Wilbur said icily.

  Maggie Sue’s lips curled into a broad smile. “Mornin’,” she answered in her most charming voice. She stopped and turned toward Wilbur. “Nice day, ain’t—”

  Max grabbed hold of Maggie Sue’s arm, and before she could finish what she was saying he tugged her through the hallway and out the door.

  ~ ~ ~

  After last night’s run-in with first Buddha and then a snot-nosed policeman, Max was in no mood for more grief so he avoided going back to the house for the remainder of the day. After he dropped Maggie off, he took in an afternoon movie then walked around town. As he walked he thought. And the more he thought about having to sneak in and out of a house that should have rightfully been his, the angrier he got.

  When the Owl’s Nest finally opened at six-thirty, he was waiting at the door.

  “Ah.” Freddie grinned. “So you’ve come to settle up that tab?”

  “Yeah, yeah,” Max answered. “But first let me get a drink.”

  One drink led to another, and Max didn’t make a move to leave until Freddie again said it was closing time.

  Max hefted himself off the stool and lumbered toward the door.

  “Hey,” Freddie called out. “Ain’t you forgetting something?”

  Max turned back with a bewildered look.

  “The tab,” Freddie said. “You told me you was gonna settle up what you owe.”

  “Yeah. Well, I ain’t got the money right now.”

  “You said…” Freddie stammered.

  “I said a lotta things, but it ain’t working out right now.” Max turned and disappeared out the door.

  “That’s it,” Freddie said to the empty stool. “He ain’t getting another drink ’til he’s paid what he owes.”

  ~ ~ ~

  It was almost two when Max unlocked the door and started sneaking down the hallway. The house was dark, and he assumed everyone was in bed and fast asleep. He was wrong.

  As soon as Wilbur heard the footsteps, he snapped on the parlor lamp.

  “Damn!” Max shouted. “Scare the shit out a person, why don’t you?”

  “Sorry,” Wilbur replied, “but we need to have a talk.”

  “I got nothing to talk about.”

  “I do,” Wilbur said. He stood and walked over to Max. “You know the rules, and it’s disrespectful—”

  “Don’t you talk to me about disrespectful!” Max poked a finger at the older man’s chest. “Disrespectful is you and these other bozos helping that nobody swindle me outta what should have been mine!”

  “Give it up, Max,” Wilbur replied disdainfully. “You weren’t swindled out of anything. This was Ida’s house. She was free to do whatever she wanted with it.”

  Max went into a long spiel about his brother building the house and family being family, but before he got to the end Wilbur held up his hand.

  “Enough! You know Ida didn’t want you bringing your dirt here to this house. You do it one more time, and I’ll personally heave your ass out on the street!”

  Wilbur was twenty years older than Max, but he was bigger, stronger, and in much better shape, so it wasn’t an empty threat.

  “You ain’t throwing nobody nowhere,” Max snarled. “You ain’t the owner of this house, and you got no say in what I do.”

  “Caroline does. And do you think for one moment she’ll go against what Ida wanted?”

  “Yeah, well, she ain’t the one handing out threats.”

  “That’s because I haven’t told her yet. But once more and I’ll—”

  “Screw you,” Max said and turned toward his room.

  ~ ~ ~

  As he lay in bed that night, Max began to think of ways to get even. He had a lot of scores to settle: Caroline, Buddha, a smart-ass cop, Freddie, and now Wilbur. As the list rolled through his mind, Max crossed off the cop; too dangerous and not worth the risk.

  It was near dawn when Max finally drifted off to sleep. By then Wilbur had replaced Buddha at the top of the list, and Caroline was now number two. Wilbur would be easy. He had an upstairs room and w
as an old man. He could stumble and fall down the flight of stairs, and no one would be any the wiser. Wilbur had weight on his side, but Max would have the element of surprise.

  Once Wilbur was out of the way, handling Caroline would be easier.

  Wilbur Washington

  I know, you think I’m getting involved in something that’s none of my business, but honestly speaking it is my business. I told you how it was with Ida; knowing my feelings, do you think I could turn my back on a thing like this? If Ida was the one who caught Max sneaking his lady friend out, do you think she’d sit back and let it be? You know darn well she wouldn’t. What kind of a man would I be if I didn’t stand up for what she believed in?

  Maybe having a lady friend in your room isn’t the worst sin in the world, but it doesn’t matter. This is Ida’s house and Ida’s rules.

  I’m hoping a warning is enough to dissuade Max from doing it again. That would be the easiest way of dealing with the problem. It’s not something Caroline should have to worry about. She’s got enough problems. I see what a scoundrel Max is, but she doesn’t. Caroline still thinks of him as family, and facing up to the bad side of your family is something nobody is anxious to do.

  Perhaps I’m being a foolish old man, hanging on to the yesterdays of life when those days have come and gone. My mind understands the truth of what is, but my heart isn’t willing to accept it. I keep imagining Ida’s still here. I walk through the hallway and glance toward the kitchen thinking I’ll see her there by the stove. When I’m lying in bed and hear footsteps overhead, I immediately think it’s Ida. It’s not. It’s her granddaughter. When Rose and Sara moved in Caroline moved upstairs into Ida’s loft, and the strange thing is that bits and pieces of Ida now seem to be seeping into the girl. I can hear it in her voice, in the way she laughs, even in the way she’s taken Sara under her wing. When I catch a sideways glance of Caroline, there are times I can almost believe she’s Ida. Maybe that’s why I feel so protective of her.

  Sure, I should have told Ida how I feel. I know I should have. It’s too late to do anything about that now, but it’s not too late to do something for her granddaughter. Max is Caroline’s uncle, not me. But he’s certainly not someone she can count on. Caroline may not be a child, but she’s naïve when it comes to the ugliness of life. She needs someone to watch out for her, and if she’ll let me do it I’m more than willing.

  I’ll talk to her about it. I’ll say, I may not be your real granddaddy, but I think I can be a pretty good a substitute if you’ll have me. Regardless of what Caroline says I’m going to keep right on watching out for her, because I know it’s what Ida would have wanted.

  In the Dark of Night

  The evening after his confrontation with Wilbur, Max arrived at the dinner table acting as though all was right with the world. He’d shaved and was wearing a fresh shirt.

  “You look very handsome this evening,” Caroline said.

  Although Max’s inclination was to tell her to stick it up her butt, he nodded graciously and sat. It was important to throw them off guard, to make everyone think he’d settled into accepting she was the rightful owner of the house and everything was hunky-dory.

  It was easy enough to put on the sappy act with Caroline, and the others were too dumb to catch on, but Wilbur was more of a problem. When the old man looked across the table Max could see his eyes were narrowed, his brows squeezed together, and his mouth a ruler-straight line with no up or down.

  The look on Wilbur’s face made Max jittery, so he focused his eyes on the pile of peas he’d been pushing to the side of his plate. He usually disappeared after dinner, but on this particular evening he followed the others to the parlor.

  “Staying in tonight?” Wilbur asked pointedly.

  “Yeah,” Max answered and sat in the fat round chair at the far end of the room. His original intent had been to act friendly and socialize, but after only a few minutes his skin began to itch. It was the way Wilbur kept looking at him, waiting for him to make a wrong move. Twice Max readjusted his sitting position, leaning first to the left and then to the right, but the itching continued. Finally after less than five minutes, he stood and said he thought he’d retire for the night.

  “Staying in?” Wilbur repeated.

  If Max had a gun he would have at that moment put it to Wilbur’s forehead and pulled the trigger. He tried as best he could to hide such a thought when he looked back at Wilbur and answered, “Yeah, staying in.”

  ~ ~ ~

  The problem was that once Max was back in his room, there was little he could do but remain there. At the moment he had nothing to sell and nowhere to go. He was low on cash and the Owl’s Nest was out since Freddie was already bitching about the unpaid bar tab. Maggie Sue was a gal who always up for a good time but only if somebody else was buying the drinks. He was stuck.

  Max lay there looking at the ceiling and thinking of ways to get money and get even.

  The following night was a repeat of events, and by the third night Max was near crazy. His thoughts got tangled in one another, and his skin itched from head to toe. Even the space between his toes itched, and scratching did nothing but cause his skin to break out in raw, painful welts. Whenever a new welt rose up, Max tried to soothe it with thoughts of what he would do to Wilbur.

  Four nights later, Max heard the thump on the floor and suspected he’d found the opportunity he’d been waiting for. He waited a few seconds and listened. His room was directly below Wilbur’s, and he could hear everything. Max waited until he heard the second thump and the heavy footsteps that crossed the room and headed down the hallway toward the upstairs bath.

  Max was quick and light on his feet. He scurried up the stairs without making a sound, then eased open the door to Wilbur’s room. His thought was to come from inside the room and shove the old man toward the staircase before he knew what was happening, but once inside the room Max saw a more lucrative opportunity. Wilbur’s watch lay there on the nightstand, an arm’s length away.

  Max snatched the watch and dropped it into his pocket, but before he could position himself for anything else he heard the toilet flush. Seconds later the bathroom door squeaked open, and a swash of light fell across the far end of the hall. Max barely made it out of there and into Harriet’s room before the footsteps thudded back down the hallway.

  Harriet was a heavy sleeper and although she rolled over, she never woke. Max stood with his back pressed up against the wall of her room, until he heard the groan of the box spring when Wilbur thumped back down on the bed. Slowing inching the door open, he checked the hall then eased out and slithered back to his room.

  The watch was solid gold. Good for fifty, maybe sixty bucks. His luck was changing; Max could already feel it.

  ~ ~ ~

  The next morning Max was up early and sitting at the breakfast table when the others arrived. He was like an arsonist, hungry to see the flames of his handiwork. Wilbur was last to arrive at the table, and he wore a look of concern.

  Before Wilbur sat he asked if anyone had seen his watch. “I could’ve sworn I left it on the nightstand. But it’s not there.”

  “Did you check the bathroom?” Laricka asked.

  Wilbur nodded.

  Others asked about the kitchen counter, the coffee table, and the pockets of what he’d worn yesterday. But Wilbur said he’d searched all those places.

  “I can’t understand it,” Wilbur said. “This is the second time I’ve misplaced that watch.”

  Caroline said nothing, because she knew the second watch was not Wilbur’s original timepiece. It was believable that the first watch had simply been lost, misplaced or forgotten, but this time it was too circumstantial. It wasn’t likely that a person who had carried a timepiece for more than fifty years could suddenly lose not one but two such watches in so short a time. Although she said nothing, her eyes moved from face to face looking for the telltale touch of guilt that comes with evildoing.

  “Don’t worry,” Harriet said
. “It’ll turn up just like it did before.”

  Laricka, Louie, and even Doctor Payne echoed the thought; only Max held back.

  Caroline looked at the far end of the table and waited for him to say something, but there was nothing. “Max?”

  Caught unaware, he answered, “What?”

  As he looked up there was a brief moment before he slid back into the mask he’d worn, and that’s when Caroline thought she saw the look in his eyes.

  “Have you seen Wilbur’s watch?”

  By then it was too late; Max was already back in disguise. “Me? Of course not, I went to bed early last night.”

  When Caroline rephrased the question, adding, “Are you sure?” Max became belligerent and accused her of singling him out. “Why me?” he said. “Why ain’t you asking the doc, or Harriet, or Louie?”

  Although Caroline moved away from the question, the fleeting glimpse of what she’d seen stayed with her. Thinking back on the countless times Greg swore he was working late, she could easily recall the look of a liar. There was a telltale sign in their eyes, an ugliness that once seen was forever remembered.

  As she and Rose washed and dried the breakfast dishes, they talked of the morning’s events. “Do you think I’m right or wrong about Max?” Caroline asked.

  Rose hesitated for a long minute then said, “I don’t doubt he’s a man capable of lies and God knows what else, but I can’t say if this particular lie belongs to him.”

  Later that afternoon Caroline approached Wilbur with the same question. “I’m not willing to accuse a man without cause. But I could have sworn I saw a look of guilt on his face.”

  “A man like Max probably has a lot of sin in his soul, but I doubt that stealing my watch is one of those sins.” Wilbur explained that while Max might have had motive, he hadn’t had the opportunity.

  “The truth might be,” Wilbur said sadly, “I’m getting older and more forgetful. Chances are I’ve misplaced it, and sooner or later I’ll come across it the way I did last time.”

  Knowing the truth of the replacement watch, Caroline heaved a great sigh and said she certainly hoped so.