by Ishmael Reed
(Minnie and Sister go to the closet, put on their coats and exit.)
CHAPTER 27
LaBas sat inside his apartment on Grant Street, reading a copy of Fate magazine by candlelight. Fate magazine was pretty good at predicting the future. They had predicted in an interview carried in October 1963 that J.F.K. would be assassinated in November of 1963.
“I’m finished, Pop. Is there anything else you want? Something to drink?” (She advertised herself as “Madame. On San Pablo Avenue—Hablo Español. Readings $5.00. With this ad $2.00.”) She was a good old-fashioned woman who didn’t believe that housekeeping was beneath her. Housekeeping was important to LaBas; he thought that it was the only way one could be sure of security.
He had abandoned his woolens, sturdy boots and eastern attire for jerseys, corduroys and light footwear when he came to the west coast. He relaxed in the Worker’s garment worn only in privacy so as not to draw attention; a black blouse, black cotton pants. He was wearing the jet equilateral cross on a chain around his neck. The Watson cross.
“No, I don’t think so, though I know you make good drinks.” He gave her a check for her services.
“I did the floors with Van Van floor wash, and in front of each room I sprinkled some Silver Magnetic Sand. I scrubbed your room with Oil of Verbena and Oil of Rosemary.”
“Good.”
“Your bath water is drawn, and I put some Special Oil No. 22 in it.”
“That’s fine. You really do the job. Please lock the door when you go out.”
She stood there for a moment. She was wearing a kerchief over her beautifully wrinkled crone face. She wore a blouse and a colorful Haitian skirt.
“Pop, is there anything wrong?”
“Well, I don’t understand why Street would want to muscle in on the Solid Gumbo Works. His brother, Wolf, said he was never really concerned about it. I have a hunch somebody put him up to it, but I can’t prove it.”
“You want a reading?”
“No, not at this point. I’d like to solve this riddle myself.”
“If you want a reading, you know where to reach me.”
“Yes. Of course.”
“The people tell me that the boys were really put away nicely. I was talking to one of the sisters at the Pick ’n Pack supermarket. She said the Argivians looked so nice in their uniforms. Wolf and Street were real handsome in their caskets. That was good of you to put them away so nice, LaBas.”
“I did what I had to do. I told Wolf to get rid of that pistol. He wouldn’t listen. When he drew the pistol, that made the Argivians nervous. They ran, leaving Street behind. He was forced by his stupid machismo to stay there and pull his. A real old west scenario. I once saw a photo of Shattuck Avenue made in the 1850s. It looked like a set in Shane.”
“Yes, Pop. It was a bad fog that day. A friend of mine drove into a Berkeley entrance from route 101 and almost went over the divider on University Avenue, the fog was so thick.”
“I just can’t understand who would be behind Street. I know they brought him to spy on us, but it couldn’t be Minnie because they were representing rival factions of the Moochers. That doesn’t make sense unless she is more cunning than her words speak.”
(Telephone rings)
“I’ll get it, Pop.”
The domestic, Sister Jackson, went and picked up the phone. She returned to the room, running.
“Pop, you’d better come here quick, Solid Gumbo Works is afire.”
CHAPTER 28
(Brother Brown and Fish walk toward each other on Telegraph Avenue. It has been two weeks since their falling-out. When they see each other, they both cross to the other side of the street. Noticing this, they start to return to their original side; when halfway across, they see that the other has done the same thing. They return to the side of the street opposite the one they started on. Then they try to walk past each other. They remain stationary, look at the sidewalk and then stare into the store windows, all the while looking at each other out of the corners of their eyes. Fish has a bandage still from where Andy cut him. Then, shyly, they walk towards each other with their heads down. They look up, and each simultaneously extends his hand to the other.)
Kingfish: Put er there … I mean—
Andy: Look, I—
Kingfish: Well, you started it by—
Andy: If you hadn’t—
Kingfish: Aw, Brother Brown, let’s be friends, fellow Moochers.
Andy: Yeah, that’s my philosophy too, Fish. Forgive and forget.
Kingfish: That’s right, Brown, I’ll forgive and I’ll forget. (Andy scratches his head) You know, I been thinking, Brown, the future is ours and all, but I’m still broke. The landlady put me out today. Aw, what I gonna do? Holy Mackerel there.
Andy: Yeah, Fish, I’m in the same boat that you am. Pretty soon it’ll be winter and I’m really uptight for money.
(A youth in saffron-colored robes and a shaved head walks by. Fish studies the man as he solicits them. They refuse. He smiles and walks on.)
Kingfish: Hey, that gimme an idea. You know, I see them boys up there at Sather Gate, saying Karmels over and over again, and people be putting coin into their hats. (Strokes chin) You know, Andy, I think it’s about time we went into the Karmel bizness.
CHAPTER 29
Ms. Better Weather’s voice is heard on the intercom. “Rufus Whitfield of Gumbo Security is here to see you, sir.”
“Send him in.” Rufus enters. He is a large negro man with sharkskin suit, alligator shoes, skinny brim hat, pencil-thin mustache, Johnny Walker eyes.
“Rufus. It’s a good thing we saved most of the building. Terrible fire. Wonder who could have done it. Argivians?”
“That’s why I came up here. It wasn’t the Argivians.”
“What’s that?”
“Weren’t no Argivians who set that fire.”
“You know who it is? Why didn’t you use your techniques to repel them? Why didn’t you arrest them?”
“We were being true to our reputations. We had gone through the entire routine which would have been enough to repel them. My men were checking out some of the hostile waves being sent out. We thought they were from some of those hippie organizations.”
“Will you please get to the point, Rufus? I have to take a light plane to Sacramento.”
“We were checking out the wrong signals because she got through. She bent our security backwards and ignited the place. We spotted her getting into a red sports car; we gave chase but lost her.”
“But you made no effort to fire upon this woman.”
“We weren’t going to tell you about it at all. I was headed for Bos’n’s Locker for a drink, forget about my troubles, when I decided to tell you because I thought that if you were going to be mad, you’re just going to have to be mad.”
“You could have shot her. Why didn’t you?”
“My men said she was too fine to shoot.”
“What?”
“Too fine to shoot. They said she was too fine to shoot.”
LaBas, enraged: “In other words, they went soft.”
“Have a heart, LaBas. Ain’t no politics, religion or anything in the world worth shooting a fine bitch over. Why, that girl was so fine some of the men’s faces were blushing cherry-red. I mean, Pop, we don’t mind bloodying a few noses or busting some behinds, causing a few welts on the leg or leaving a small permanent scar, but, LaBas, there ain’t no reason in the world to shoot a woman like that no matter how much building she burns up. Damn, LaBas, you have insurance, so the building can be replaced, but a woman like that—”
“Stop it! We work and build until our plant is in good operation, and you ruin it all. Because you went, soft when you saw a beautiful frame. You’re fired. But before you go—do you have her identity?”
Rufus removes a toothpick from his mouth. “Yeah, we know who she is. She’s Ed’s daughter, Minnie.”
“Minnie?”
“Yes, Minnie,”
“
Minnie the Moocher?”
“The same.”
LaBas takes his seat slowly. “Well, of course, that sheds a different light on the matter.”
“That’s right. We didn’t think you’d want the Gazette to get a hold of a scandal involving Ed’s daughter. You know how they play up black scandal so heavy.”
“Yes. Forget what I said about it. Go bring her to me.”
“But you said I was fired.”
“Go get the girl, Rufus.”
Rufus, smiling, exits.
CHAPTER 30
(Before Sather Gate, University of California at Berkeley, Fish and Andy stand. They are wearing pink robes, sandals and have shaved their heads. Andy Brown keeps his derby. They are shaking tambourines and soliciting.)
Kingfish: Karmels! Karmels!
(A crowd has gathered and is laughing at them)
Andy: (whispers) Fish, what is these peoples laughing at us for? Don’t they know that this is them Indian fellers’ religion? Ain’t they got no respect?
Kingfish: They’s got respect, Bro. Andy, but they shows it through beatitides.
Andy: What?
Kingfish: Look, they ain’t laughing at you, dummy, they’s blissful; they’s delighted. There are many cases of people that gets moved away by saying Karmels; they starts to laugh and can’t stop. They’s happy.
Kingfish/Andy: OMMMMMMMMMMMM. OMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMM.
(The people continue to laugh)
Andy: We been out here a long time, Fish, saying Karmels and Ommmmmmmmm. Our humming ain’t gettin us nowhere. We ain’t collected but thirty-five cents since we been out here this morning, while them other fellows down the way is cashing in.
Kingfish: I believes you do have a point there. I believes you do. Maybe we ought to go down the street and get a little respiration. I’m tired.
Andy: Yeah, maybe we should. Man, pickings is lean this year.
Kingfish: You can say that again. Remember the time we took over the Black Studies programs up here, Andy?
Andy: Yeah, I remembers. We bopped the bushwa nigger who was running it, and he had a big hickey on his head. Then we took over.
Kingfish: Those was the days, Andy, the sixties. They took us off television and the radio and gave us freedom to roam the world, unchecked, hustling like we never hustled before.
Andy: Yeah, we sure did get in a lot of fights.
Kingfish: Remember the time this bushwa hi-yellow got up to speak in that meetin we had? I turned off his microphone. Ha! (A pause)
Andy: I think maybe we ought to go.
Kingfish: Have a little patience. That’s how them Asians win. They have so much patience they can go till they wear you out.
Kingfish/Andy: Karmels! Ommmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm! Karmels! Ommmmmmm.
(The spectators once again laugh)
Andy: We sure is making these people happy.
Kingfish: That was some rally Minnie just had there at Sproul Hall, huh? Inspiring. Inspiring.
Andy: I don’t like the way she run down Papa LaBas. He’s a turkey and all, but she don’t have to talk about him that bad. I mean, she didn’t have to call him all kinds of MF’s like she did.
Kingfish: It’s a new age, Andy. She’s one of them emaciated women.
Andy: What kind of woman is that, Fish?
Kingfish: She believes that the womens have received a raw deal, a bum rap, and a bogus turkey.
Andy: O, Iz sees.
Kingfish: You know, we are very fortunate to have someone like Minnie leading us Moochers. She’s quite a gal.
Andy/Kingfish: Karmels! Karmels! Ommmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm!
(Crowd laughs again, sounds like canned laughter. A white hippie walks by.)
Hippie: (shakes his head)
Kingfish: (belligerently) What’s the matter with you, fella?
Hippie: Man, are you guys square.
Kingfish: What do you mean? Can’t you see we is beatidizing these folks? Look at ’em, they can’t control their happiness.
Hippie: Look, they’re laughing at you. Your friend smoking that cigar and wearing the derby and you… They know you’re faking …
Kingfish: Why, you—
(They hit and smack the Hippie, and then when he is down they begin to stomp him. Fish removes his razor and is about to cut the boy when the crowd begins to throw things at them. They are chased by the crowd and take off down Telegraph. They run down an alley and over a roof and go to the back yard of Rezor’s Restaurant. Brother Amos calls to them.)
Amos: Fish, Andy, how are you?
(They turn around and see Bro. Amos. He is seated, eating a roast beef sandwich and drinking a glass of beer. They approach the table whispering.)
Kingfish: Hey, there’s Amos, maybe we can get the chump to sponsor us on some beer.
Kingfish: Well, what do you say there, Bro. Amos?
(They give him a ritual handshake)
Andy: Yeah, how you doing there, Amos?
Amos: Well, it’s been a long time. Last I heard, you boys had gone into radical politics—what’s the name of it?—Waitress! bring my friends a pitcher of beer.
Kingfish: We is in the Moochers. Minnie’s Moochers.
Amos: That’s wonderful. What are some of your programs?
Kingfish: Well, last week we …
Andy: We are planning …
Kingfish: Well, next Thursday, there’s suppose to be a …
Andy: If it don’t happen Saturday night …
Kingfish: Well, Amos, to tell you the truth we just go to rallies and hear Minnie talk about the Big Minnie.
Amos: What on earth is that?
Kingfish: That’s when we gone string ’em up!
Andy: Kill ’em all!
Kingfish: Take a stand!
(Waitress brings the beer; Fish & Andy eye her lecherously)
Andy: (frowning) Well, you look kind of prosperous there, Amos.
Amos: Well, as you know, I gave up working for the taxi company. I now manage a fleet of limousines that’s sent to bring Papa LaBas’ customers to the Gumbo Works.
Kingfish: You mean this man LaBas has such a business that the customers are brought to the Gumbo Works in limousines?
Amos: Yes.
Andy: Aw, we don’t wants to hear about that man. He is a sell-out.
Kingfish: Yeah, a Gisling.
Andy: He is unmoochable.
Amos: He’s done mighty well for me … I have to go now. You boys enjoy your beer, stop by and see me sometimes.
Here’s my card. (He gives Fish the card, exits)
Kingfish: Yeah, that nigger is living in the Oakland Hills. Away from the Moochers.
Andy: Yeah, let’s have some more beer.
(Kingfish looks around and then pockets the tip Amos had left behind)
CHAPTER 31
(Enter Rufus Whitfield, struggling with a fighting Minnie, into LaBas’ office. She’s dressed real mannish.)
“Here she is, Pop. Fought like a tiger; bit my hand; tried some of that Kung Fu mess on me, so I whopped her one real good.” (Minnie spits in his face. Rufus draws back his hand, ready to strike) “Why, you—”
“Don’t hit her, Rufus. You can go.” Rufus glares at Minnie, who glares fiercely back.
“O.K., Pop, but if this girl gives you any trouble, let me know. I’ll bop her so she’ll think I’m Gravedigger and Coffin Ed, Captain Blackman and Solomon Gillis—all one big chopping nigger.” (Rufus exits.)
Minnie stands before LaBas’ desk, fuming, arms folded, tapping her feet.
“Cigarette?”
“I don’t smoke.”
“What do you do, Minnie? You seem to be a very serious girl. That article of yours I read. People need to play, party sometimes, you know. Why be so stiff? Why, in my day, we’d pile into our zoot suits, jalopies, and jitterbug to the big bands at Roseland, then we’d—”
“Look, I know you brought me here to talk about that fire. If that’s what you want to talk about, you’re wasting your breath. I’m the firs
t one to admit it was a mistake. Shortly before your men illegally entered my home and brought me here, I heard from my lawyer. Whatever you’re running here is going to be mine anyway. I’m the next in line after Wolf for the inheritance—”
“There won’t be anything here.”
“What do you mean?”
“We’re phasing out. Ed and Wolf have trained the Workers to go out and set up their own individual offices. Wolf had completed the inventory before he was killed. I promised Wolf I’d preside over … not its liquidation but its metamorphosis. We’ve just about completed our inventory, and so there’s no need to keep it a secret. You see, to our organization, industrial secrecy is sacred; any violation is what we call ‘sin.’ Wolf could have told Street we were phasing out, but our plans would have been in jeopardy if that had gotten out prematurely. A true Worker, he went to his grave with his lips sealed. You see, as long as we’re conspicuous, as long as we’re in the public’s eye with a definable point of operation, there will be scandals, murder. As long as we’re trying to take care of Business, people like you will always seek us out and attempt to enervate us. Without a central location, if we’re inaccessible, beyond reach, we’ll even be more able to devote our full energy to the Work, communicating with each other only when the need arises. You see, they want us to fail. The competition would rather have us on the public dole than let us achieve anything, and they use people like you to keep it that way and to inhibit the development of our quality.”
