Little Girl Lost 6: The Return of Johnnie Wise (7 page)

Hank’s eyes narrowed before he said, “Because I know you, Lucille. A half hour will turn into an hour, and an hour will turn into two hours. In the meantime, customers will be complainin’ to me. She’ll be just fine by herself. She don’ drove all the way from New Orleans by herself. Surely, she can find a store and a hotel without yo’ help, Lucille.” He looked at Johnnie and said, “Can’t you, Johnnie? You don’t need Lucille with you, do you?”

Johnnie looked at Lucille, and then at Hank and said, “I don’t want to cause you two any problems. I can handle everything on my own. You’re right, Hank. I made it this far without any help. I can find the hotel, and the store on my own. I just appreciate the help and the job.”

“Good, good,” Hank said. “I’ll call Mr. Saunders and tell him you’re coming, and he’ll put whatever you buy on our tab. Mr. Saunders’ll know what you need, and you can get a few other items, too.”

“You don’t say,” Lucille said. “Well, you might need to find four or five dresses that you can wear to church just in case you decide to go.”

“I want both of you to know that I appreciate everything, and I won’t let you down. I’ll be here in the morning ready to work.”

“Just remember, you can spend as much as you like,” Hank said, “but it all comes out of your paycheck at the end of the week. So, if you’re in a hurry to get to East St. Louis any time soon, I suggest you spend as little as possible. But, if you think you’re going to be here a while, spend accordingly. You’re welcome to stay as long as you like.”

“What time does Woolworth’s close?”

“Eight o’clock,” Lucille said.

“Okay. I think I’ll do just like you said, Hank. I’ll head over to Woolworth’s and then check into the Clementine.” She yawned and stretched. “I’ve been up all night, and I’m starting to get sleepy. What time should I be here in the morning?”

Chapter 12

I’ll make a deal with you, Lord.

J
ohnnie had gotten a block and half away from Lucille’s when she realized that she never found out how much it was going to cost to fix her car. Hank had said that Woolworth’s was around the corner from the Esso filling station. She had decided to stop in and find out. Jimmy had told her the total price including gas, oil, tires, and a new radiator would cost $67.45. While she didn’t show it, she was thoroughly disappointed because not only would that sum absorb everything she had, but she would still owe nearly $20.00. Even after paying the whole amount, she would still need more money to buy gas and other items. However, the way Jimmy looked at her, she got the feeling that the cost to fix her car would be erased if she were willing to compromise herself again. As her heels clicked loudly against the pavement, she began to consider her position and the choices before her. That’s when she realized that she might be stuck in Jackson for a very long time, given the fact that her father’s phone was disconnected and Benny had blown all of his prize money.

One more compromise won’t kill me. I mean, I guess I could give him what I know he wants, and then I’ll at least keep the money I have in my purse. It’s strange how life can turn on you. Yesterday morning, I was rich. I had more money than I would ever need. Twenty-four hours later, I’m as broke as my mother was. Maybe this is what she was facing. Maybe Josephine was facing the same situation. Maybe something happened to them, and all they had was their bodies. Maybe they felt exactly how I’m feeling right now. Maybe they didn’t want to do it either, but they felt they had to do it or starve to death. If it weren’t for Lucille and Hank, maybe I would have offered myself to Jimmy. I don’t know.

Oh, my God! What if mama was broke, and she had to sell me? What if that was the only choice she thought she had? And if I’m even considering compromising myself now, and I have a job waiting for me with good people helping me, what if mama didn’t have anybody? What if it was just her . . . all alone? What if she talked to her friends and the Beauregards and they shunned her? What if a job didn’t fall into her lap the way it fell into mine? What if Earl Shamus offered her the easy way out when she was at her lowest? She probably thought about what Josephine did to her and maybe then she understood her mother the way I’m starting to understand her. What if mama was just like me when she was my age? What if she used to go to church and sing in the choir, too? What if she was a virgin when Josephine sold her, too? Maybe that’s why she made me go to church. When she fell in love with Benny’s daddy and that didn’t work out the way she thought it would, she probably lost all hope of living a better life. Maybe she thought that living in Sable Parish was as good as it was ever going to get for her and that made it easy to sell herself. That’s why she tried to stop me from falling in love with Lucas. She didn’t want me to end up like her.

Is this what happened to all the women in my family? Is that what mama meant when she said, “All women go through this?” Have we all been in impossible situations and found it easier to give into depravity rather than to do what’s right? Here I am seriously considering compromising myself again. Here I am telling myself that one more compromise won’t kill me when in fact it might. It just might. If I compromise myself now, when and where will it end? If I compromise myself now, will I end up like my mother or worse? I’m in a new town where no one knows me. No one knows my past. Who knows, I could start all over here. I could start off fresh. Everyone deserves a second chance. I sure do, and I need a second chance. I’ve made up my mind. I’m not going to compromise myself again. I’m going to take the hard path this time. I might have to work for Lucille for a year to pay her back, but I will not compromise myself. I’m through with that. Who knows, maybe Hank is right. Maybe I can find myself a good man here.

I guess Jackson’s as good a place as any. Maybe Jackson can be my new home. Besides, I’m stuck here for a while. Let’s see how things play out. Maybe I can start school here. If I work hard, I can rebuild my investment portfolio and get rich again. If Job lost everything in one day and got everything back, maybe I can, too.
She looked to the sky.
I’ll make a deal with you, Lord. Send me a good man to help me turn my life around, and I promise I’ll do right. I know I’m not perfect, so he doesn’t have to be perfect either. Just make him a good man with a good heart and good job, kinda like Boaz from the book of Ruth, and that’ll be enough for me.

Chapter 13

Reality

L
ucas Matthews had been driven by a searing cauldron of rage, pain, and disappointment all rolled into one when he left the courtroom where his sweetheart stood trial for murder. Not only was Johnnie Wise the love his life, he loved her more than life itself. While his fierce love for her was stronger than the bond that exists between a woman and the child she bore, he was incredibly weak when it came to Marla Bentley, who had given him the succulent fruit that patiently waited for him in the midst of her hidden secret garden. Marla was his living, breathing Delilah—the dragon he chased, but could never apprehend because not only was the dragon a larger than life myth, but blindness of heart was the grand prize the pursuit gave way to. He, therefore, could not see nor know how his relationship with Marla would affect his future with nearly every woman of interest that crossed his path.

As he was riding the bus to Ashland Estates, the last conversation he’d had with Marla at the Red River Motel played out again in his mind. In short, she had told him that Johnnie was not who he thought she was and that she was no different than any other human being when it came to desiring physical love. She went on to tell him that they were two of a kind, trapped by their own inability to say no to the same temptations that all men and women face. That truth had been far too much for his fragile ego, but when he heard that salient truth for himself, in a court of law from a witness duly sworn to tell the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth so help her God, he snapped.

After setting Johnnie’s house ablaze, he drove his 1941 Chevy over to the apartment building he had lived in to get a few of his things. The Army pretty much owned him for the next three years, and he wasn’t sure when he would return to the Crescent City, if ever. The place of his birth offered far too many painful memories. It was January 1954, and Mardi Gras was rapidly approaching. He hated the idea of not being there, in the French Quarter, being in the midst of it, watching the gala pageantry of it all—the parties, the food, the influx of tourists, and all the money he had planned to make selling heroin during the celebration.

He went into the building, clumped up the stairs two by two, entered his home for the last time, and headed over to the closet. He looked at all the suits and shoes he had purchased, trying to decide what he wanted to keep and what he’d leave for the next man who rented the apartment. Napoleon Bentley had been paying the young man of eighteen years a hundred dollars a week; a substantial sum at the time, all of which he deposited into his bank account.

Still looking in a closet full of suits, ties, shoes, and other accessories, he couldn’t decide what to take, but he knew he couldn’t take it all nor did he want to. Nearly all of his suits reminded him of what appeared to be better times when he and Johnnie were connected to the Syndicate through Bubbles, Napoleon’s Negro lieutenant. Lucas and Johnnie were living the life that American couples dreamed of. They each had more money than they needed or knew what to do with. More important than their money was the great love they had for each other. Both of them were prisoners of passion, and they thought their love and their money would never diminish.

He looked at the black suit Johnnie had bought him for her mother’s funeral, and vivid images of that day flooded his mind. The suit took him back to what happened before the ceremony began, when the men of Baroque and Sable Parrish’s wanted to kill white men, women, and children for what Klan Leader, Richard Goode, had done to Marguerite. He decided to leave the suit. It reminded him too much of the woman he still loved, even though he was still very much wounded by her latest betrayal.

He touched the blue suit, which reminded him of the night he and Johnnie went to see the play
No Way Out
at the Sepia Theatre. Some people didn’t want the play to come to town because of its provocative theme and because it ended with a destructive race riot, much like the riot the city had experienced when Richard Goode was murdered. After the play he and Johnnie had made sweet love. It was so good, so right, so perfect for them both. Then, he reached out for the gray suit, and when he touched it, Marla Bentley came to mind.

He remembered a phone call he had gotten from Johnnie while he and Marla were in bed together. He had told Marla to never come back to his apartment, but he didn’t mean it. Sex with Marla was good, too, but he knew it had to stop. His life was on the line. To make matters worse, Napoleon forced him to drive Marla to Shreveport to get a new car. On the way back, she seduced him again, promising him it would be the last time they met for a lustful romp. Out of control, he had pulled over on a deserted highway and went up in her again. He couldn’t take that outfit either.

He continued perusing his suits. All but three had a story all its own. He took them along with the accessories and neatly laid them out in a suitcase. Then, he put in a few pairs of slacks, shirts, underwear, socks, cologne, and toiletries. After that, he went into his bedroom and took seven thousand dollars he had earned from selling heroin and marijuana. The money was in his mattress along with his former stock portfolio.
One day I’ll reinvest. Maybe there’s a brokerage in South Carolina,
he thought. Having taken everything of value, he left his apartment and headed over to the bank, where he drew out eighteen hundred more dollars, closed the account, and left New Orleans.

Chapter 14

Welcome to Fort Jackson

A
fter he was a couple hundred miles east of New Orleans, Lucas pulled into a gas station and told the attendant to fill the tank. The filling station reminded him of Preston Leonard. Preston was the young man Napoleon had used to get him involved in the drug trafficking business. While he waited, he wondered how he let it all happen to him and to Johnnie. He reexamined everything while he was in prison, and now he would do it again, hoping to not only avoid the pitiful mistakes of the past, but to somehow acquire wisdom and turn himself into something he would one day be proud of.

He thought about Preston Leonard and wondered what happened to him. Bubbles had told him that he was going to kill Preston. He wondered if Napoleon would go that far to cover his tracks. He also wondered if he wanted Johnnie badly enough to kill an innocent man to get her. If he would kill Preston, why didn’t he just kill him instead of constructing a complex plot to first, put him in jail for three months and second, get him to accept a three-year stint in the Army? He paid the station attendant, and then drove all night to Columbia, South Carolina, stopping and refueling two more times.