Little Girl Lost 6: The Return of Johnnie Wise (28 page)

BOOK: Little Girl Lost 6: The Return of Johnnie Wise
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I’m going to need more time than that, Paul.”

 

P
aul Masterson pulled his Ford pickup into the parking lot of The Flamingo Den and shut off the engine. There were only a few parked cars, no Harley Davidson motorcycles. Just a few station wagons, which meant that the people inside were probably families, not riffraff looking for trouble—at least that’s what he was counting on. He liked Johnnie, but it was mainly because she was very attractive. He believed that once they had a deep enough conversation, perhaps he wouldn’t like her nearly as much, and then he could get her out of his mind and move on to his next preaching engagement. But he had been praying for a wife for several years. He assumed that whichever woman God would send him would be white, southern, and hopefully as beautiful as Sarah, Abraham’s wife, but he knew that he never specified color. Nearly every day for four years, he had been asking for a good wife of God’s choosing. The fact that Johnnie was a Negress did not automatically disqualify her. They got out of the truck and started walking to the restaurant entrance where they had met.

 

“So, are you going to answer my question,” Masterson said. “Are you just passing through or what?”

 

“Originally, yes. I was going to East Saint Louis to spend some time with my father, but I don’t have the correct number, or he’s changed it.”

 
“And he didn’t bother to tell you what his new number is? That’s strange. Are you two having problems or what?”
 
“It’s a long story, Paul.”
 
“Really, I’d love to hear it.”
 
“Aren’t you leaving tomorrow?”
 
“I might, and I might not.”
 

They entered The Flamingo Den. The waitress that had served them the night before rolled her eyes at Masterson. She had invited him back to her place, and not only hadn’t he accepted her offer, but he didn’t even acknowledge that he’d even heard her offer. To add insult to injury, he was back the next day with the same black woman he had just met. She assumed that he had accepted her invitation instead.

 

Masterson, fearing that she might spit in their food or worse, said, “I just wanna let you know, ma’am that I’m an evangelist, and I’m preaching at a revival tonight. I heard your proposition last night, and that’s why I didn’t accept your gracious invitation.”

 

Relieved, the waitress smiled and said, “I knew it had to be something like that. The way you kicked ass last night, I thought you wore the title only. I see I was wrong.”

 
“You probably remember my friend, Johnnie. I met her last night, and again, at a restaurant this morning.”
 
“We all know who she is,” the waitress said. “Word is all over town.”
 
“I’m wondering if we could have a booth.”
 

“No problem, Preacher. Right this way.” She led them to their seats and placed two menus on the table. “Scotty said you’d probably be back with her again today, and I was to serve you and find out when you was leavin’ town.”

 
“Scotty’s not here?”
 
“No. But I’m sure he’ll be here shortly. Let me know when you’re ready to order.”
 
“I think we’re ready to order now.” He looked at Johnnie. “You wanna try the chili and grilled cheese and ribs again, Johnnie?”
 
“Yes, please.”
 
Masterson looked at the waitress and said, “Make that two orders, and two ice cold lemonades.”
 
“Comin’ right up,” she said and left.
 
“So . . . let’s hear that long story about your dad.”
 
“Do you really think something is going to happen between us, Mr. Cowboy Preacher?”
 
“Something like what?”
 
“Like a romance or something.”
 
“Who knows? I certainly don’t.”
 
“On our way over here, you asked me how old I was. Do you still want to know?”
 
“Yes.”
 
“I’m seventeen.”
 
Stunned, Masterson frowned. “Seventeen? Are you serious?”
 
“I am.”
 
“Hmph! I thought you were twenty-seven or twenty-eight.”
 
“Nope. I’m seventeen. Now do you still want to get to know everything there is to know about me?”
 
“Depends.”
 
“On what?”
 
“When you’ll be eighteen?”
 
“Next Thanksgiving, nine months from now.”
 
“Nine months, huh? What about your mom? Where’s she?”
 
“In a crypt.”
 
“So, she’s dead?”
 
“Either that, or she’s very lonely in that crypt.”
 
Masterson smiled. “I guess that was a stupid question.”
 
“You guess?”
 
“Besides your dad in East Saint Louis, do you have any other relatives?”
 

“Yes, my dad remarried, and so I have half brothers and sisters. I also have a half brother in San Francisco, but I never think of him as a half brother. He’s a famous boxer. Perhaps you’ve heard of him.”

 
“He’s not the Bay City Terror, is he?”
 
“Yes. That’s him. They also call him Benny ‘The Body Snatcher’ Wise.”
 
“Yeah, I’ve definitely heard of him. I wouldn’t wanna meet him in a dark alley.”
 

“I don’t know, Mr. Cowboy Preacher. You seemed to be able to handle yourself fairly well last night in this restaurant. And there were three of them.”

 

“They were amateurs. Benny’s a professional—that ain’t even the same ballpark. Those bikers were yahoos that prey on peoples fears, which made them easy. Benny can take a good punch and deliver a devastating reprisal. I wouldn’t allow him to hit me once, let alone twice like I did with those punks.”

 

“I don’t blame you, Mr. Cowboy Preacher. I was in Las Vegas about a month ago, and he nearly beat a man to death inside the ring.”

 
“I know. I was there, too.”
 
“Really? Perhaps providence is working in our favor. So . . . tell me what happened with the woman you almost married?”
 
“She was my high school sweetheart. We had been going together since ninth grade. Beautiful girl.”
 
“So, was she a virgin?” Johnnie asked, smiling.
 

“She was when we met, but after the prom, we ended up going all the way. We were madly in love. After that night, we were doing it all the time until she got pregnant. Her dad is a doctor. He took her to one of his colleagues, and they killed my child. I was devastated that they did it behind my back, and that I had no say in the matter. None at all. She said her parents made her do it, but I don’t know if that’s true or not. Our relationship was never the same after that. A lot of years passed before I was able to forgive her from the heart. In the fall, I went off to seminary in Dallas. Eventually, we broke up, and the last I heard, she had gotten married. I haven’t seen her since.”

 

The waitress brought out their chili, two grilled cheese sandwiches and a slab of ribs. Then, she put a large knife on the table to cut the ribs and disappeared.

 

Johnnie felt an instant connection once she heard Masterson’s story. She immediately knew that he would at least understand what happened between her and Lucas. When she saw Masterson bow his head to say grace, she bowed hers, too. When he finished, she said, “What would you think of me if I told you I wasn’t a virgin, Paul?”

 
“I wouldn’t think anything of it. I just told you what happened with me and my high school sweetheart.”
 
“Yes, but you’re a man. Men have double standards when it comes to women.”
 
“That’s true. I’ll try not to be judgmental, okay?”
 
“You’ll try?”
 
“Okay, I won’t condemn you for anything you’ve done.”
 

“Thanks.” She looked him in the eyes, examining him before she opened up. She wanted to see his thoughts because there was no guarantee he would ever divulge what was going on in his heart after he heard what she had to say. Still looking into his eyes she said, “My mother sold me to our white insurance man on Christmas Eve when I was fifteen years old.”

 

Masterson was about to take a bite of his ribs and stopped when what Johnnie had said echoed in his mind. “What? Your mother did what?”

 
“You heard me right, Paul.”
 
“So, this was your stepmother, right?”
 
“No, it was the woman who had carried me for nine months. It was my mother, Paul. My mother!”
 

Masterson’s eyes narrowed a bit as he tried not to give away what he was thinking of Marguerite at that moment. He said, “And . . . how did she die, Johnnie?”

 
“She was killed by the Grand Wizard of the Ku Klux Klan, Richard Goode, a paying customer.”
 
“A paying customer? Your mother was a—”
 
“Prostitute? Yes.”
 

Masterson bit into his ribs to keep from saying harsh things about her mother. Instead, he said, “What happened. Why did he kill her?”

 

“She was jealous of me.”

 

“Jealous of you? Why?”

 

“Because my lover, Earl Shamus, was rich and he had bought me a home in Ashland Estates. That’s why. She decided to blackmail the Klansman, and he beat her senseless, and then he blew her brains out and left her on a dark road for someone to find.”

 
“Are you being serious with me, Johnnie?”
 
“I am.”
 
Masterson shook his head and started working on his chili and grilled cheese.
 
“Have you heard enough, Paul? Or, do you wanna hear some more?” Her eyes welled. “It really starts to get ugly from here.”
 

“Uh . . . well . . . maybe later. I can see in your eyes how devastating it’s been for you. If that’s only the beginning, I shudder to think what you might tell me after that.”

 
Even though a tear fell, she was able to laugh when he said that. “I thought you wanted to hear it all.”
 
“I do, just later, okay? This is a lot to handle right now.”
 
“But you’re leaving tomorrow.”
 
“I don’t have to leave tomorrow.”
 
“So, you’re gonna stay then?”
 
“That’s the plan. Now let’s eat, and you can tell me the rest of the story on the way back to the Clementine.”
 
“I’m going to need more time than that, Paul.”
 
“I’ll stick around for a while, and you can tell me everything, okay? But for now, let’s just enjoy this delicious food, okay?”
 

Chapter 53

 


You got that, Hatcher?”

 

T
ony Hatcher walked right past Johnnie and Paul Masterson and entered the phone booth he had been in the previous night. He dialed zero and told the operator to connect him to a number in New Orleans and to reverse the charges. While he waited for the operator to connect him, he watched Johnnie and Paul. Much like the previous night, he took his warm turkey and cheese sandwich with a dill pickle on the side and some hot fries into the booth with him. He took a couple swallows of his beer before he heard Earl Shamus’ voice.

 

“Mr. Shamus . . . Hatcher here. I have more to report, if you have time, sir.”

 

“Let’s hear your report,” Shamus said.

 

“It looks like she’s getting close to the man she was with last night, sir. They’re sitting in a booth in The Flamingo Den again.”

 
“That’s the place they were in last night, right?”
 
“Yes, sir.”

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