The Canary Club

by Sherry D. Ficklin

  I stand, tossing the boa aside. “No, Vincent, I won’t marry you. I don’t love you in that way, and even if I did, I still wouldn’t marry you. Because everything I hate about this life, everything that scares me, everything that makes me want to run away, that’s what I see when I look at you. The boy you were, the boy I cared about, he’s gone. You killed him.”

  My accusation is stark. For the second time in one day, I’ve let my mouth run away with me. I steel myself for the same blow I’d received earlier. But it doesn’t come. Something else happens, though. A chasm opens between us, a gap neither of us can bridge. I can feel it in the air, a shift so real I can nearly touch it.

  Vincent stands, disappointment filling his eyes as he points a single finger in my direction. “Use the tickets, Masie.”

  With that, he disappears out my door, slamming it closed behind him.

  Falling back into my seat, I grab the vase of flowers and hurl them into the shadows. They slam against the wall, the vase shattering into a thousand crystal splinters. Rose petals litter the floor in the dim light.

  Vincent, my Vinnie, is dead. Dead and buried, as he’d said. The man wearing his face is a stranger to me. No, worse. He’s my enemy. He will come for my father and brother. Maybe not today, but soon. I will warn them, tell them what’s transpired tonight, although it will be a death sentence for him.

  He is right about one thing.

  I can’t save him.

  But I can keep him from hurting my family. Hopefully, I can keep my family from hurting anyone else, too.

  The music rolls into the night, with Masie singing two more sets before the first lights of dawn threaten to creep in and kill the party.

  “Last call,” the barman calls, earning him a chorus of groans. The crowd has thinned. Only the die-hards remain, though most are languidly sitting about at tables or the singular long booth stretched out along the far wall. It’s then that Dutch and Alistair emerge from behind the secret door. I glance in behind them. The room is empty, save for the two red velvet couches and two high-backed paisley chairs surrounding a round marble table and a dormant brick fireplace. His other guests must have made their way out the back exit. If I had to guess, I’d say it’s probably hidden behind the gilded-frame portrait of a woman in a blue dress holding an infant that runs all the way to the floor. There’s also a free-standing globe, cracked open to reveal a bottle of champagne on ice inside.

  I let the door close and follow Dutch as he makes his way through the room to the bar.

  Dutch slaps Alistair on the back. “It’s going to be wonderful, just you wait and see.”

  Alistair nods, but he doesn’t smile. “I hope you’re right.”

  “Have I ever let you down?” Dutch asks indignantly.

  The men exchange a few more words, and Alistair buttons his suit coat. I hang back, close enough to be only two steps away, but far enough not to overhear.

  Masie takes the mic again, the music falling into a slow, gentle melody.

  There's a saying old, says that love is blind…

  Still, we're often told, "seek and ye shall find"…

  So I'm going to seek a certain lad I've had in mind.

  My heart hitches in my chest and I turn to her, her eyes locking onto mine.

  Around me, time slows until each beat of my heart echoes in my chest. She smiles, releasing me from her gaze long enough to sweep a glance around the room. I have just enough presence of mind to turn my chin toward Dutch. He and Alistair have frozen, also unable to refuse her siren call. Dutch wears an expression of pride, the sort a man wears while driving a new Rolls Royce down the square. Alistair, by contrast, has a tic working in his jaw, his expression giving nothing away.

  There's a somebody I'm longin' to see…

  I hope that he turns out to be…

  Someone who'll watch over me.

  It’s impossible not to grin as I turn back to her. No one else in the room recognizes my serenade, our shared secret.

  Yes, I will watch over Masie, along with JD and Dutch. I will watch over them all.

  The club clears out slowly, and I wind up helping JD and another man load some of the more intoxicated patrons into cabs. He’s a brute of a fella, with a cracked front tooth and thin moustache, named Donnie Brewster. Donnie sweeps up the last of the confetti while I sit with JD at the bar, watching the barmen counting the night’s take.

  JD peels off two fresh hundred dollar bills.

  “Here you go, Benny. I’m giving you this week’s pay and an advance on next week’s too. You need to go down and get yourself some new glad rags. Can’t have you in the same borrowed suit every night, now can we?”

  Taking the dough feels surreal, like a dream I’ve had a hundred times finally coming true.

  Dutch slides through the beaded curtain, Masie on his arm. She’s traded her dress for flowing grey pants and a long white blouse. She’s still wearing the pearls, but her hair is covered by a tan cloche hat with a little yellow bird embroidered on the side.

  “Ah, I’m afraid I need to ask you a favor, Benny,” Dutch says, releasing Masie. She rounds the bar and helps herself to s shot of whiskey. “I’m going to have to head out of town for a few days. JD, I’m leaving you in charge of the club, but I’ve decided to take Tony with me.”

  Masie sets her glass on the bar. “Tony? Why on earth would you need to take my guard?”

  “I’m meeting with the DelVecchio family. Tony used to work for them before the war. Plus, he knows his way around Chicago. But don’t worry, I’m not gonna leave you unprotected. Not when someone just tried to put a hit on me.”

  That’s when he turns to me. “Benny, you can look after Masie for a few days, right? Just while she’s out and about. We have security at the penthouse. She just needs someone to stick close when she’s outta the nest.”

  “Of course, sir. I need to get some new suits tomorrow. What time will you need me, Miss Masie?” I ask.

  She throws back another shot. “As it happens, I have some shopping to do tomorrow as well. Why don’t you come pick me up around two? That way, we can go together?”

  “I can certainly do that,” I say, still a bit unsteady with the entire situation.

  “Good man.” Dutch pulls me away, walking me across the now-empty floor toward the back room as the barmen follow us, cash bags in hand. He slips me five hundred dollars. “This should cover any,” he waves his hand, “extraneous expenses you might incur while minding my daughter. I don’t need to tell you that I’m trusting you with my most prized possession, do I?”

  The inflection in his voice makes his meaning crystal clear. If I let him down in this, if anything happens to his daughter on my watch, I won’t have to be worried about getting shot again. I have no doubt he’d kill me with his own hands, so I nod as we turn into his private office. It’s a formal desk with a stack of ledgers and a candlestick phone on one side, a newspaper in the middle, and a cigar box on the other corner.

  “Though I should mention, she can be a bit of a handful. I brought Tony in because he was Special Ops back in the war. He’s the only guard she’s never given the slip or tricked into doing…well, whatever.”

  “I’ll watch her like she was my own sister, sir.”

  Seemingly pleased by my response, he smiles. “Glad to hear it. I doubt there will be any trouble, though. Everyone loves Masie, you see.” Releasing me, he crosses the office to a tall metal filing cabinet. I think he’s going to open it, but he pushes it aside, revealing a safe built into the wall. I deliberately turn my back as he spins the dial and cracks it open. I turn back around to see the barmen hand him the bags and the night’s receipts, which he slips inside and closes with a click.

  I follow the three of them out. That’s when I see Tony for the first time. He’s tall and sturdy with short grey hair and a well-groomed beard. He glances me over in a way that makes a shiver roll up my spine before opening the car door for Masie and Dutch to slip into. Once they’re inside, I take the
moment to offer him a handshake.

  “I’m Benny, the new security guy,” I say, offering him a hand. He looks at it distastefully and turns his back on me, sliding into the front passenger seat. As soon as his door closes, the car rolls away into the dawn.

  “Don’t worry about Tony,” JD says, patting me on the back once. June stands beside him on wobbly legs, one arm draped across his. “It’s been his life’s dream to take lead for Dutch, but he never had the chance. He used to work for one of the Chicago families, you see. Until one of them took a bullet to the head on his watch, that is. That’s why he came out here. He wanted to be Dutch’s guard, but with something like that on your record, it’s hard to be trusted. For a fella like that, being stuck babysitting the boss’s daughter is quite a demotion.”

  “Watching after Masie can’t possibly be that bad,” I say, earning me a sympathetic grin.

  “Never underestimate the fairer sex’s ability to cause a ruckus, Benny.”

  His own car rolls up to the curb, and he helps June into it before sliding in himself. “You need a ride?” he asks out the window.

  I’m about to say yes when I see Dickey sitting on the curb across the street, sucking on a Lucky. “Nah, I’m jake. Thanks anyway. See you tomorrow.”

  I cross the road to my friend who, despite the pained grin on his face, turns his chin toward the sun. “If I didn’t know better, I’d call you the luckiest bastard on the planet, Benny.”

  I offer him a hand up, which he accepts. “Yeah, all I had to do was get shot and almost die.”

  He shrugs, tossing the butt on the ground and stomping it with the toe of his shoe. “You just remember who made the introductions there, Mr. Big Shot.”

  “I doubt you’ll let me forget,” I joke, slapping him on the back. “What happened to the dames you were with earlier? I expected to find you necking in a back booth.”

  Now he grins. “What, those baby vamps? Nah, chunks of lead compared to that canary I saw you beating your gums at.”

  “She’s Dutch’s daughter,” I say, shaking my head as we walk toward the trolley stop. “Might as well have hands off tattooed across her forehead.”

  “Man might risk it for a dame like that,” Dickey says, shooting me a warning scowl. “Don’t go getting crushed now. Them fellas, they may walk like us and talk like us, but make no mistake, Benny, we ain’t nothin’ like them.”

  “What do ya take me for, a sap?” I mutter, grabbing a seat on the trolley home. Dickey stands next to me, though the car’s nearly empty. I don’t mention the wad of cash in my pocket, or the cush job I’m gonna be working for the next few days.

  “Course not, Benny. Just want you to watch your back, that’s all. You’re swimming with the sharks now.”

  When I finally walk in the door, I’m greeted by Ma. She’s sitting on the sofa knitting. Seeing me, she drops her sticks in her lap and sighs.

  “Hey, Ma.”

  “Don’t you hey Ma me! You stay out all night with not a word, not even a note to tell me where you’d gone? Let me guess, you and Dickey decided to go throw your money at the clubs by the river?”

  “I was working,” I say, slipping out of my suit coat and hanging it by the door.

  “What kind of respectable job keeps you out till dawn? Only thing open after midnight are bars, legs, and morgues.”

  I swing back to her so fast I feel the muscles in my neck tense. Ma’s never spoken to any of us in such a crude way before, and I can’t hide my surprise at her words. “Ma, come on.”

  Biting her thumb, she looks away, out the window. “I’m sorry,” she says, chewing her nail. “I know you’re a good boy. I just got so worried.”

  Retrieving the wad of cash from my jacket, I make my way to her. “I know, Ma. And I’m sorry I worried you. But I took on some extra work so we can take Agnes to the doctor.”

  Blinking, she drops her hands into her lap and looks at me, her expression hopeful but wary. “R-really?”

  I nod, handing over the money. She takes it, staring at it for a few moments before standing and adding it to the tin.

  “Call the specialist and make an appointment for Agnes. I have enough to cover the train, the visit, and any medicine she might need.”

  Her back still to me, she shakes her head. “If this money came from some caper—”

  “Ma, it didn’t. My boss gave me an advance, enough to get some new clothes and take care of Agnes to boot. But I’m gonna be working a lot for the next few days. I’m looking after his daughter during the day and working security at night. I know it’s a lot, but I can make some real dough here, enough to get new clothes for you and the twins, to keep food on the table, and maybe even pick up a nicer place eventually.” She turns to me, leaning against the windowpane. “Ma, I can make back everything we lost when Pa died, and then some. You just gotta back off and give me some breathing room, here. Okay?”

  “I just want you to be safe, Benjamin.” Her voice is soft now, and I know I’ve got her on the ropes.

  “And I will be. I promise.”

  She takes a breath, raising her chin. “Then you’ll get no more lectures from me.” She brushes past me, grazing my shoulder with her open hand as she moves toward her room. “I’m gonna go get some shuteye. I have a shift at ten. But I’ll make the appointment before I leave. You’ll get the twins up and fed?”

  “Of course. I have to be at work at two.”

  Without another word, she walks to her room and gently closes the door. As soon as I hear it latch, I release a deep sigh. It’s still early, just after six in the morning according to the old wooden clock on the wall. I don’t want to get the twins up just yet, so I turn on the radio. Making the volume real low, I stretch out across the lumpy old sofa. Before I realize what’s happening, I drift off, the rhythmic lilt of the Lindy Hop dancing through my head.

  The next time I open my eyes, it’s to see Thomas standing over me. I jump, startled, and he springs back.

  “Geez, Thomas. You nearly put me in an early grave.”

  He chuckles the way only mischievous little boys can, waving his wooden sword. “I’m pretending to be a pirate.”

  “Oh, and what do you know about pirates?” I ask, sitting up.

  “I’ve read all the pirate stories, Benny. I’m going to be a real pirate someday.”

  I open my mouth to ask if there are pirates anymore, but promptly shut it again. Of course there are. Only now, rather than sailing the seven seas plundering merchant ships, they hold backroom poker games and sneak booze past the Coast Guard in unmarked crates. They just wear suits and ties instead of patches and peg legs.

  I glance past him to the clock. “Aw, applesauce,” I swear, making Thomas freeze mid-swing.

  “What is it?” he asks.

  “I gotta be at work soon,” I say, standing and doing my best to pat out the wrinkles in my shirt. “I gotta shower. I gotta get cleaned up. Have you and Agnes eaten yet?”

  He nods. “I fixed us some oats while you were sleeping. Ma left a bit ago, said to let you rest.” I rustle his hair as I walk past, retrieving my coat and heading for the bathroom. There’s a note on the counter, and I snatch it up as I walk past.

  Dr. Moyer

  872 Gable Street, Albany

  3:15 Thursday

  Good, Ma was able to get the appointment. Hastily, I add the address of the club and the penthouse for good measure. I call out to Thomas, “I’m leaving the address I’ll be at today and tonight. I’ll be gone most of the day and back late tonight. But if you need anything, you can get me at one of these two places. Okay?”

  He nods absently, so I peek in on Agnes. She’s sitting upright in bed reading Huck Finn.

  “Hey, Aggie, we got your doctor’s appointment all set up,” I say, forcing a cheerful tone. “You’ll be crossing swords with Thomas again before you know it.”

  Lowering the book, she offers me a slip of a smile. “Mother told me. I’ve been praying all morning that it’ll go well. I hate to be su
ch a bother for everyone.”

  Pushing the door full open, I walk to her side, sitting on the bed beside her. “Don’t be silly, how could someone as tiny as you ever be a bother? Besides, I have a special surprise for you once you’re feeling better. We’re going to go to the store and get you as many new dresses, ribbons, and books as we can carry.”

  Dropping the book entirely, she lunges forward, pulling me into a long hug. I rub her back, mentally taking note of every rib, every backbone I can feel under my fingers.

  Daddy and JD hold me hostage in the den while I recount my meeting with Vincent and his impromptu proposal. Daddy’s face turns three shades of red before I’m done, but JD seems unsurprised.

  “It’s not like we didn’t expect something like this,” JD says, downing a glass of Scotch.

  Daddy paces the floor, his hands clasped behind his back. “Shame I already had the charges dropped. A few years behind bars mighta done him some good. I’m going to have to speak to Alistair, see what he thinks should be done. In the meantime, you keep your distance,” he says, stopping long enough to point at me.

  I raise one hand. “I promise.”

  “This meeting in Chicago is too important to let anything throw a wrench in the works now. JD, keep the boy placated until I get back. Tell him I wanna meet with him when I return. Maybe tell him I might be looking to bring him on as a partner.”

  JD pales. “Is that really your solution?”

  Daddy waves his hand. “Course not. But it should keep him from doing anything too stupid while I’m gone.”

  Daddy crosses the floor, kissing me lightly on the cheek he’d slapped not twelve hours earlier. I wince, but he pretends not to notice. “Keep safe, baby girl. I’ll see you in a few days.”

  Once he’s gone, JD pours himself another glass. “I’m taking him to the train tomorrow morning. I’ll swing by and talk to Mad Dog after.”