Amerika (9 page)

‘True. Don’t doubt that either.’

She turned back to me. ‘I have a proposition, Mr. Carter - Mr. Diaz, too.’

‘Wrong word choice,’ Ziggy said quickly. Don’t you mean -’

A sharp uplift of her chin ‘Don’t tell me how to run a scene, okay?’

‘Sorry, kid. I’m a sphinx. Lips zipped. Promise.’

He stuck his hands in his pockets and rocked up and down on his heels, a perpetual motion machine.

‘I’m listening,’ I said.

‘Have you eaten dinner, Mr. Carter?’

‘No?’

‘It’s always good to talk business on a full stomach, and I haven’t eaten since - since when, Ziggy?’

‘Chicago.  That’s where we refueled. Noon or so. You had half a sandwich, I had a…’

Ava rode over his endless answer and said to me, ‘Your mother said the
Blue Heaven
was a nice place to get a bite.’

‘Not for us,’ I said.

‘Why not?’

‘Because...’ I stopped.

‘The color of my skin,’ Orlando added. ‘The Conchs, God bless their white hides, don’t like colored folks like me eating in their fancy restaurants.’

Ava shrugged. ‘So where can we get something to eat without that kind of crap on the menu?’

Orlando smiled. ‘
Sugar Cane Club’s
got pretty good chow.’

Ziggy said, ‘White folks allowed?’

‘The right kind.’

The chubby agent straightened up. ‘I can assure you we’re more than that. We’re the best. In fact, just the other day, I was saying to -’

‘Knock off the sell job,’ Ava said. ‘You’ve got to forgive Mr. Siegel, gentlemen. Agents can’t stop selling. Especially this one. Even does it in his sleep.’

‘How would you ever know, darling?’ he leered.

She rolled her eyes, patted her small wine-red shoulder purse and said.

‘My treat. Times wasting. Let’s go.’

In all the years I’d been coming to the
Sugar Cane
, I never knew exactly what it looked like on the inside. Mostly because the cigarette smoke and dim lighting made everything look sort of vague. Liquor helped, too. But if you ever go there, don’t order something called the ‘Sugar Cane Special.’ Take it from me, it’s special all right. The next morning your head will feel like a sack of hammers.

Ziggy ordered one, even though I warned him not to. Orlando did too, but he can hold his booze as good as his bible lessons. I figured Ziggy wanted to impress us. Be one of the gang.

The three-piece combo was playing the intro to
The Man Who Got Away.
  The vocalist stood in the small spotlight waiting for her entrance, shoulders swaying to the beat. The place was half-empty and wouldn’t get busy until later.

Ava glanced at the menu, put it down and smiled brightly at Orlando.

‘What do you recommend, Mr. Diaz?’

‘Fried chicken and gravy’s as good as it gets.’

‘You’re on.’

Ziggy said, ‘Is it kosher?’

Ava’s eyes locked on target. ‘Who writes your material?’

‘I do, darling.’

‘That’s what I thought.’

I felt like I was watching a movie, having the real Ava James sitting across from me, exchanging snappy lines back and forth with Ziggy. The way she talked, the way she held her shoulders and fiddled with her drink, reminded me of a scene she and Cagney did in Ceiling Zero. I did my best to make conversation.

‘So, Miss James, what movies have you been in lately?’

Her face tensed and right away I knew I’d said something wrong.

Ziggy gulped his drink and leaned forward. ‘We’re in between pictures at the moment…sorting through scripts… trying to make up our mind. Not easy. Lots and LOTS of options.’

‘Cut the hot air, you little sap,’ Ava said. ‘What Ziggy means is that I haven’t worked for over a year. In Hollywood, that’s as good as dead and buried.’

Ziggy would not be derailed. ‘Wait until Warner Brothers hears my latest. It’s the perfect story of boy meets girl.’

‘What my agent isn’t saying is that I can’t get arrested in Hollywood.’

‘Why not?’

She looked away. ‘Nice voice. She been here long?’

Orlando said. ‘Two years almost.’

I said, ‘Orlando’s in love. The fallen woman scenario appeals to his preacher values.’

Orlando looked pained. ‘How can a woman who sings like an angel be fallen?’

Ava brightened. ‘You two seeing each other?’

‘Sometimes.’

‘What’s her name?’

‘Jasmine.’

‘Nice.’

I said, ‘Tell her what you do on your dates.’

He looked away and then back again. ‘We read scripture together.’

Ziggy gulped, his eyes widened and he started coughing.

Orlando glowered, ‘What’s wrong with that?’

Ava said, ‘Yeah, what’s wrong with that?’

‘Nothing at all. This drink’s like a stick of dynamite.’

A long silence. Jasmine’s velvety voice handled the lyrics like a sad confession. I felt nervous, on edge, so like a jerk I said, ‘You didn’t answer my question. Why won’t anybody hire you?’

She hesitated. ‘Walked out on a film.’

Ziggy squirmed. ‘Let’s not get into that just now, shall we, darling?

How about another round? My treat. Love this stuff.’

‘Do you mind motor-mouth?’ Ava said, ‘I’m talking with Mr. Carter.’

‘Call me Sam.’

‘Ava.’

‘Okay.’

She smiled, drained her glass and put it down.

‘Long story short: mother lives in New Orleans, she had a stroke last year, nobody worth a damn to take care of her, so I walked off the set, headed home and did it myself. Took me almost a year to get her back to normal. She’s doing pretty well now.’

Ziggy said, ‘All it cost was your career.’

‘Lousy movie anyhow. Annie Sheridan got roped into it after I left.’

‘What’s it called?’ I said.

‘
Dark Surrender
. Seen it?’

‘No.’

‘Don’t. Even with Annie in it, it’s a stinker.’

Jasmine finished her song to scattered applause, Orlando’s the loudest. She smiled and gave a shy, half-wave to him and then slipped into the shadows.

Our meal arrived, and the next half-hour was spent, heads down as we tucked away chicken and gravy,  greens, and biscuits, all washed down with ice cold beer.

Ziggy finished first. ‘I haven’t eaten this good since I left Brooklyn.’

I said, ‘How long ago was that?’

‘Fifteen years ago this month. That’s when I headed west to make my fortune.’

Ava said, ‘And here you are in Key West eating chicken with an unemployed actress. Some fortune, huh?’

Ziggy touched her arm.  ‘For better or worse, richer or poorer, in sickness and in health. Besides, what goes down must come up. And it will, I promise you.’

‘Unless mother gets sick again and they won’t let me out of my contract to take care of her.’

‘We’ll make that a pre-condition.’

I said, ‘You did the right thing. Taking care of her, I mean.’

‘Sometimes I wonder...’  A long pause.  She nibbled a piece of dry biscuit. ‘Maybe I could have arranged my exit with a little less drama.’

Ziggy said, ‘Throwing a lamp at Jack Warner was bad enough, but a lamp in his own office.’

‘Would have thrown a brick if I had one.’

‘I’ll pack one in your purse for next time.’

‘If there ever is a next time.’

‘Trust me, there will be.’

Ava laughed.  ‘Who are you kidding?  Those Hollywood boys are running scared. Ever since America went neutral, Berlin’s been on their case to tell their story to America. Where else but Hollywood, and who else but a bunch of Jewish studio heads who have relatives they’re holding hostage in Europe?’

‘Will they do it?’ I said.

She smiled. ‘If it means somebody you love lives instead of dies, what do you think?’

I let that pass and said, ‘Do you miss it? The movies, I mean?’

‘Sure I do. What’s better than getting paid to make-believe?’

‘Lots of things.  Flying an airplane, hunting, fishing, taking care of someone who needs help, like you did.’

She shrugged. ‘I’m the one who needs it this time around.’ She leaned forward and said softly, ‘That’s why I came here to see you and Mr. Diaz.’

‘How so?’

She lowered her voice. ‘I’m looking for buried treasure.’ She reached inside her small red leather purse and pulled out an envelope. ‘See for yourself.’

I did.

‘Count it.’

Ten crisp one-hundred dollar bills.

‘You just print these?’

‘Very funny. Take a look at what else is there.’

At first I thought it was yellowed leather, the way it felt in my hands, smooth and flat. And then it dawned on me.

‘Is this what I think it is?’

‘Open it,’ Ava said.

The light was dim. A thin tracery of what looked like a diagram of some kind. Dotted lines here, faint printing there.

‘Recognize the island?’ she said.

‘No.’

‘You’ve flown over the Dry Tortugas a zillion times and you don’t remember seeing that one?’

‘Islands come and go down there. Storms bury them and bring them back.’

She leaned forward until her head was almost touching mine as we both looked at the map. She smelled of cocoanut and mint. I don’t know if it was perfume or just her.

I slid the map over to Orlando, who examined it carefully, and then said, ‘This could be off Loggerhead Key.’

‘No way, there’s nothing there but Fort Jefferson.’ Ava said, ‘We won’t know for sure until we get there.’

I laughed. ‘This is like a movie where a gorgeous women gets two unsuspecting suckers to help her look for buried treasure.’

Ziggy jumped into the conversation. ‘Funny you should say that. It’s going to be a feature film one of these days, except Humphrey Bogart will play your part and Paul Robeson will play Orlando - providing there’s a happy ending of course. Hollywood loves happily-ever-after’s and so do I.’

‘Be quiet and eat, will you?’ Ava said.

Her long, red, fingernail traced the dotted line on the map until it stopped over a lopsided circle with an ‘X’ through it.

‘Right there. Guaranteed.’

‘This map’s for real? Not some movie prop?’

‘It’s real and your money’s real. One thousand bucks to fly us down there. After we find the treasure, you get another thousand for your efforts and maybe a bonus if you’re nice. Deal?’

‘What if you don’t find it?’

‘We will.’

‘I’m warning you that island could be long gone.’

‘It’s not.’

‘How do you know?’

‘Trust me.’

‘Charter a boat, it’s a lot easier – and cheaper.’

‘And slower, and more people, too - besides, you come highly recommended.’

‘By who?’

She leaned back slightly. ‘What’s with the twenty questions? Are you a cop?’

‘Just curious. Who told you about Carter Aviation?’

‘Ever read the newspapers?’

She pulled out a tattered clipping: One of Rosie’s ads in the Miami papers.

‘Do we have a deal or don’t we?’

I regarded her outstretched hand.

Orlando said, ‘Manna from heaven, brother. Count me in.’

I said, ‘What are you going to do with the gold, if you find it?’

She looked at me like I was crazy and she was right. Stupid question, but I like asking them to keep the air clear. Her movie-star beauty shifted to utter seriousness.

‘Use it for a very worthy cause.’

‘Which is?’

‘Ask that after we find the gold - that is, if you’re in. Are you?’

I smiled at the image that flickered through my mind of pirates, doubloons, palm trees and cutlasses. ‘Isn’t this how Treasure Island starts? The old pirate shows the kid the map, and away he goes. Long John Silver, Ben Gunn. Great movie.’

Ava folded the map and put it away. ‘That was make-believe, this is real. In or out?’

We shook hands all around. Her cool, thin fingers gripped mine with surprising strength and I gripped back.

Be where your enemy is not.

- Sun Tzu
 

P
romptly at five A.M. the next morning, Ava and Ziggy showed up.

Their battered pickup truck was loaded with camping equipment, digging gear, tie-down cables, and enough food to last a week. Ziggy’s pith helmet hat two sizes too big and his safari jacket a size too small.

Ava was a different story. How she made plain khaki slacks and a checked shirt look glamorous at that hour was a mystery. She’d tied back her long auburn hair with a plain yellow scarf but even that looked stylish.

‘You look like Katherine Hepburn.’

‘Kate wouldn’t be caught dead in this. She’s a class act.’

‘You look fine to me.’

Ava touched her hair and grinned. ‘Thank you, captain. C’mon Zig, lend a hand.’

‘Where’d you get your rig?’ I said to him.

‘An outfitter in Hollywood.’

‘You lugged it all the way here?’

He tapped his helmet and grinned. ‘All the way from tinsel town.’

The loading went quickly with the four of us working like a team. Just as the sun cleared the hangar roof, the S-38 was loaded, fueled and ready to go. I leaned out the cockpit window and shouted at my sleepy lineman. The fire extinguisher wand in Abby’s hand was almost as tall as she was. She had insisted on seeing us off, and besides, she knew her business.