Edith drums her fingers on the steering wheel. It’s a warm day, and a fine bead of perspiration is on her upper lip. She leans over and rolls down Leroy’s window, hoping for a cross breeze in the truck cab.
I’ll keep my regular float in cash like Mickey always did. Although, I may need to find a different spot than the mattress, given the recent rat infestation.
Frowning, Edith gets out of the truck and, once again, looks up and down the street. It’s too warm to wait here. I guess I’d better go look for the boy.
Chapter 48
W ith the dime clutched in his hand, Leroy watches Edith disappear into the bank. Where to first? Coconut Grove has so many amazing things to look at and buy. I wonder why Cassie left. I sure like it here. He peers into the window of a restaurant and widens his eyes. I’ve never been in a restaurant before. I could order anything I wanted on the menu and eat until I was full. Dang, I wonder how many pieces of pie I coulda got if I still had that quarter that the fella gave me at the Grand Opening last week? Cherry, huckleberry, apple, lemon meringue…
Across the street, Leroy sees a boy about his age and a little girl with their noses pressed to the window of the S&P Mercantile.
I like living at Gator Joe’s with Miz Edith, but there sure ain’t many kids my age around there. I wonder what they’re looking at.
Getting up, he ambles over to the pair and takes a look inside as well. Displayed in the window are cans of beans, bags of beans, and a crate of bright green beans. Leaning against the produce is a hand-lettered sign, ‘Bean looking for something good to eat?’
“Beans, beans, the musical fruit, the more you eat, the more you toot,” Leroy sings. Up close, he can see how thin they are. They turn and stare at him, eyes shadowed.
“You from around here?” Leroy asks.
The girl pops a thumb into her mouth and shakes her head. She’s probably five years old and stick and bones under her patched dress. The boy shakes his head. “Ma and Pa are pickin’ oranges. I’m supposed to be minding Grace here. Come on, Gracie. We gotta git.” The boy tugs at his sister’s arm. They begin to shuffle off down the sidewalk, the girl continuing to stare at the display of beans.
Leroy reaches into his pocket and wraps his fingers around the dime. He throws it on the ground in front of the window. “Hey. Hold up there. You dropped this,” he says, reaching down to pick it up.
The two children stop and stare at the shiny dime.
“Musta fallen out of your pocket,” Leroy says, shoving the dime at them.
The two share a glance, then the boy snatches it out of Leroy’s hand. “Yeah, musta fallen out. Come on, Gracie. Let’s get them beans Ma asked us for.”
Leroy glows as he watches them disappear into the S&P Mercantile. “Better than any piece of pie.”
Edith had said to meet her back at the truck in an hour and he doesn’t want to be late. He ambles into the store next door to the S&P. A rack of comic books catches his eye: Popeye, Little Orphan Annie, Buck Rogers. Each of them at ten cents apiece. Rats. Them kids needed the beans but I sure coulda used a comic book. I wonder if Miz Edith plans on coming to town again soon. Maybe she’d give me another dime? He lifts the Popeye comic out of the rack and flips to the crossword puzzle. Hey, this is neat. Seven across ‘Clean with a broom’, five squares—think—think. Sweep!
Chuckling to himself, Leroy puts the comic back and picks up Buck Rogers. Outer space, wow. Imagine going to the moon. The cover of the next comic book catches his eye. It’s a girl with a red dress and a dog. An orphan, like me. He reads a few pages. Ha, Miz Edith is no Daddy Warbucks, but a dog like Sandy would be nice. Maybe Miz Edith would let me get a dog. For protection at Gator’s.
“You gonna’ buy something, kid? This ain’t no library you know.” The shopkeeper looms behind him.
“No, sir. Sorry, sir,” Leroy says, hastily stuffing the comic back in the rack. The shopkeeper watches him until he leaves the store.
Leroy plunks himself down on the edge of the sidewalk. Sure is hot. I coulda spent my dime on a soda pop or an ice cream. He sits, head in hands, watching the cars pass by. That Buck Rogers comic sure looked good. I wish I was sitting on the dock right now with my feet in the water, a cold soda from the cooler, and that comic. That would be swell. Don’t I deserve some reward or something for being so nice to those kids? Good stuff is supposed to happen to good people, and that was a good thing I did.
He plucks at the pants of his overalls. Cassie never said nothin ‘bout money when we were in the ‘Glades. But it’s sure important here. I’m bound to get another tip at Gator’s but, if I wait, somebody else is going to buy that comic book.
He gets up and dusts off his pants. Yup, I think I earned it. I promise I’ll put a dime on the counter next time. He turns and quietly re-enters the store.
The store clerk is busy with another customer, and his back is to the comic book rack. Leroy sneaks to the rack and, lightning fast, snatches the comic book, stuffing it down inside his shirt. He’s turning to bolt out of the store when a heavy hand comes down on his shoulder.
“Gotchya. Damn kids. Think you can get away with murder, don’tcha? Where do you think you’re going with my merchandise?”
* * * *
Leroy’s butt-end is sore from the hard, wooden stool. Every time he shifts or squirms, trying to find a comfortable spot, the storekeeper turns and glares.
It had been a tense few minutes after he’d been nabbed. Leroy had pleaded to be let go. There may even have been a tear or two.
Leroy starts to stand when Edith comes into the store. One look from Edith and he plants himself back down. This is no cavalry.
“Where have you been, Leroy? I’ve been looking everywhere. You were supposed to meet me back at the truck,” Edith says.
“Hang on a sec. Are you the boy’s mother? He tried to steal from me and I’ve called the deputy sheriff.”
Edith gasps and takes hold of Leroy’s shoulders. “Is that true?”
Leroy looks up at her, panic in his eyes. His stomach starts to ache as he lowers his head and whispers “Yes.”
He watches Edith and the storekeeper converse in low tones. Occasionally, one or the other looks over with a glare. He can hear the odd word or two and what he hears just makes him feel worse.
“First-time offender”
“He needs a firm hand.”
“A licking from his pa would teach him a lesson.”
“Not to worry, he’ll be getting one of those when he gets home.”
Finally, explanations and negotiations concluded, a carefully folded bill tucked into the shopkeeper’s hand for his troubles, Edith marches back to Leroy. She grabs him by the ear, hauling him off the stool.
“Ow-ow-ow.” Leroy is dragged out of the store.
Edith lets go and turns him around to face her. “How could you do this to me? Don’t I have enough trouble in this town without this?”
Leroy stares up into her face. Her eyes are hard and her mouth is tight. He’s in a whole world of trouble.
“Get in the truck, Leroy.”
Once he’s scrambled inside, Edith turns to him. “I should have known you were a thief. You were stealing food from me before we even met. I should take you back to your Aunt Cassie’s myself, right now. I’ll tell her what a lying, thieving little boy she’s raised.”
“No. No, Miz Edith. Please don’t do that. Please.”
“Give me one good reason why not,” Edith says, staring straight ahead.
“’Cause we’re best friends, Miz Edith. We spit on it.”
Edith turns to look at Leroy. She sits silently. Then the smallest glimmer of a smile creeps up the corner of her mouth. “Yes, we are.”
Leroy takes a breath. Crisis averted.
Edith starts the truck, heading back to Gator Joe’s. “Well, I hope you learned a good lesson from this.”
Leroy nods vigorously. “Oh, yes ma’am. I was too slow. If I was faster, I wouldn’ta got caught.”
&n
bsp; Edith throws back her head, laughing. “I guess that’s a lesson. A distraction would have been better. Now, when I was a girl, we always worked in pairs. One to keep the shopkeeper busy, the other to pocket the goods.”
Leroy, eyes wide, nods solemnly. “Yes, ma’am. Except I’m not no pair. There’s just me.”
“True enough, Leroy. Maybe you should find some friends. What about school? You’re smart enough to catch up. And there would be kids your age to play with.”
Leroy gazes out at the road. “Thanks, Miz Edith, but I don’t think I do. I never been before and it’s not likely they’d want me now. Besides, I seen the school and there aren’t many boys my age in the yard. Most of them are out on the water with a pa or uncle, or helping on the farm.” He turns to her with a grin. “And I’m not good sitting quietly in a straight row of wooden desks.”
Edith grins back. “You know how cheeky that is, quoting my own words back at me?”
They pull into the parking spot above Gator Joe’s. She turns to him. “Ever heard of Tom Sawyer?”
Leroy shakes his head. “Is he a boy at the school?”
“Nope. A character in a book. He’s an orphan boy like you who lives with his auntie and who has adventures on a raft along the Mississippi River with his friend, Huck Finn. How about the next time we come into town we stop by the library and get you a library card?”
“What’s a library?”
“A place where you can go and take out books to read. You don’t need to buy them. You just need a library card.”
“The books are free?”
“Knowledge is free. In libraries, you just need to bring your own container.”
“Like a bag or a box?”
“You’re a smart kid, Leroy. Think about it, you’ll figure it out.”
“Do they have comic books?”
“I don’t think so.”
“I wish I could buy a comic book. They cost a dime and I gave my last one away.”
“You work hard at Gator’s. How about I pay you every week? That way you could buy a comic rather than steal one.”
“My own money? To spend on whatever I want?”
“Your own money, Leroy. Spend it wisely.”
Chapter 49
A crisp, wrought-iron fence patrols the perimeter of the Saunders’ house in Coconut Grove. Flowers in window boxes stand at attention. There isn’t a blade of grass out of place. Neighbors presume the military precision stems from Lt. Commander Saunders’ service; those who know the couple better understand Mavis is the real base commander.
“I wish you didn’t have to go out again, John. These two weeks on can be such a chore,” Mavis says, pouring her husband another cup of coffee.
Lt. Commander Saunders pushes back his chair from the kitchen table so that he can more easily read the Miami Herald newspaper. A plate of partially eaten eggs lies in front of him on the kitchen table.
“I was talking with Agnes down the street, and she told me that Gator Joe’s has been sold—to a woman of all things. Agnes says she’s running it herself. There isn’t a man in the scene from what she says, although a small boy is hanging around. Tsk. Unheard of. You can only imagine the morals. A woman running a bar. With no man, you don’t think the boy is hers, do you?” Mavis scowls at the front page of the paper. “Coconut Grove was such a pretty place when we first got posted here. Now it’s like an open barroom. There are so many blind tigers; the local men are drunk most of the time. Why Agnes was telling me… John, are you listening?”
John Saunders murmurs agreement. He can still hide behind the wide newspaper when it’s folded and held by one hand, leaving the other free to reach for his cup.
“In my day, a woman’s place was in the home, caring for her family, volunteering with the Homemakers’ Guild, going to church on Sunday. It certainly wasn’t running a bar. Isn’t that right, John?”
John clears his throat, comfortable behind the newsprint.
“I was just telling Lorna at choir practice about the dangers you face trying to enforce the Prohibition laws, and we have this criminal element in our own back yard. I don’t know how you go into work each day, John. They’re spreading like rats.”
Mavis stirs her coffee, bristling, her feathers ruffled. “By the way, we got a letter from your brother this morning.”
John lets one corner of the newspaper drop so that he can see his wife. “Oh, and where is he now?”
“He posted it from Japan of all places. He’s been all over the Pacific lately. Imagine the adventures he has. I’m glad you aren’t with the Navy, John. I like having you at this breakfast table.”
“Captain in the Navy is no small thing, Mavis. The respect for the uniform is serious. It’s not like what we have to endure, especially in these times.”
“Yes, that’s exactly what I was saying a minute ago.” Mavis begins to clear the table. “You didn’t finish your eggs, dear. They say breakfast is the most important meal of the day.” John is back behind his newspaper. “Once you’ve finished with the letter, may I have the envelope for Brother Silas? We can take it to church this morning. You’re coming, aren’t you?”
With a sigh, John folds his newspaper. “Yes, of course. I think I’ll read his letter right now before we head off.”
“I’ll fetch it and pour you another coffee, shall I?” Mavis hurries down the hall to the desk to retrieve the letter. “Brother Silas will be so pleased. It’s a lovely one with those funny pagoda shaped buildings. I’m not sure how many Japanese stamps he has in his collection.”
* * * *
Sunday, the day for the language of leisure. Edith and Mae sit by the water, their bare feet in warm sand, soaking up the sun.
“I love Sundays. Once upon a time, my life was a week of Sundays. Nothing to do but whatever I wanted. No rush, no bills, no worry. Maybe I should have appreciated those days more.”
“Things sound grim, doll. Everything okay at Gator’s? Did you have a good crowd last night?”
“So-so. Not good for a weekend. There are forces afoot, Mae,” Edith says with a wry grin, “keeping thirsty patrons from my door. And if that weren’t bad enough, I was almost drowned the other night.”
Mae sits up, staring at her friend. “Why didn’t you tell me sooner? Are you all right? What’s going on?”
“That’s the frustrating part. I don’t know what’s going on. It’s the Wharf Rats, that local pirate group here in town. They prey on the contact boats going out to Rum Row, and shake down blind tigers. I imagine they’re in cahoots with the local law.”
“For goodness sakes, you’re not inviting all this trouble because you won’t pay a bit of protection money?”
“I would pay. In fact, I met with the boss. He didn’t want my money. Apparently, it’s more fun to strangle my business than to profit from it. Very warped.”
“And the drowning?”
“They were behind the Grand Opening debacle and I didn’t get the message. I guess the attack was putting a period at the end of a strongly worded sentence.”
“What are you going to do?”
“I tried being reasonable. Making a success of Gator Joe’s without the violence of Mickey’s world, and Al’s, was important to me. I wanted a good business plan and a well-run saloon to speak for itself. Something I could be proud of. But it looks like I’m going to have to fight fire with fire.”
“Sometimes giving someone a second chance, especially these pirates, is like giving them an extra bullet for their gun because they missed you the first time.”
“I’ve come to that conclusion. I’ve been doing a lot of thinking about Bonnie Parker—“
Mae takes in the gun and holster Edith is wearing. “Bonnie and Clyde-Bonnie?”
“Yes. She’s like Mickey in a skirt. What do you think?”
“Mickey never had the legs to carry off a look like that.”
“Mae, seriously.”
“I didn’t think talking with a gun was your style, doll.”
/> “I tried talking. Maybe they’ll be more inclined to listen to a twelve-gauge.”
“I’ve never been uncomfortable with what Al did for a living. In this racket, you have to make choices. If you’re looking for a Clyde, Bonnie, I’m your gal.”
* * * *
“Heads up you lot. Jackson, whatcha got?” Slowly, each man is called up to add to the growing pile of cash next to the Boss. It’s bigger than it’s been in a while.
“We tanked Gator Joe’s Grand Opening just like you asked, Boss. Nobody showed except a few guardsmen from the station. Everett and I wandered by around eleven to look through the windows and see who was there. The place was half empty,” says Buford. “People stayed away more than the one night.”
The Boss nods. “Excellent. This won’t be the last of her. She’s a stubborn wench, which will make it that much more enjoyable when she kneels. Mr. Buford, I’d like you to drive the point home sometime in the next few days.”
“More than the dunking I gave her last time? Whatcha got in mind, Boss?”
“Yes, that impromptu baptism was amusing.” The Boss smiles. “I’ll leave the details of what you do next up to you, Mr. Buford, but remember: the devil that deceived them was cast into the lake of fire and brimstone, where the beast and the false prophet are, and shall be tormented day and night for ever and ever. That appeals, does it not?”
“Lake of fire and brimstone. Okay Boss, I’ll see what I can do,” Buford says with a grin.
Chapter 50
C assie stirs the pot over the campfire. She’s making a nice, thick gumbo for lunch. Glancing into the pot, she revises that. With just her now, it will last for lunch and supper, too.
Gathering Storm Page 28
