Standing at the Scratch Line (74 page)

“I was two people short. Now I’s three people short. How I’m gon’ do service for Captain LeGrande and his men?”

“You got another one of them high-yeller girls right there!” Minnie said, pointing a spoon at Serena.

Thomas shook his head. “She ain’t ready. She just started.”

“You the only one know that!” Minnie answered. “All LeGrande care about is she got titties and ass.”

Serena faced Thomas. This was her opportunity. “I can handle it, Mr. Thomas,” she asserted.

Thomas looked at Serena doubtfully. “Can you balance a loaded tray? How many plates can you hold at one time? You got our menu down? What is we servin’ today?”

“I don’t know the menu and I can’t balance a loaded tray yet,” Serena admitted. “But I do know how to use the pushcarts I’ve seen around. I could take the food off the dumbwaiter and use the cart to take food to Captain LeGrande.”

“There!” Minnie said with a nod of her head. “That child seems to got more brains than Dietra right off! She might could make LeGrande forget all about today’s special!”

“She only been here two days!” Thomas grumbled. “But I ain’t got nobody else! Okay, girl, you gon’ be responsible for servin’ the cap’n until Dietra come back. But let me tell you one thing: the cap’n and his men get the real silver service for their meals. And here at the Lafayette, we count our silver every evenin’ just to make sho’ none of it don’t just get up and walk away. You gon’ be responsible for every fork, knife, and spoon you take. You understand that?”

“Yes, sir. I’ll account for every piece.”

With a loaded luncheon cart, Serena knocked on the door to the second-floor conference room where LeGrande was having a meeting with his men. A muffled voice said Come in and Serena pushed open the door.

Three white men sat around a large circular table. The table was covered with stacks of paper and rolled-up maps. The room smelled of tobacco and sweat. Serena rolled the cart next to the table. One of the men was speaking and she waited silently for him to finish.

“Captain, them Italians is probably runnin’ their bootleg through Possum Hollow. There’s a lot of small islands and channels right through there, but if we leave a couple men with a small boat I’ll bet in less than a week we’ll know about their shipments.”

One of the other men turned to Serena with a frown. “What are you doing here?”

Serena curtsied. “I didn’t know whether you wanted me to serve, sir. I was waiting for a break in the conversation.” She shook her head. “Honestly, I didn’t hear anything, sir.”

The third man laughed. “Don’t get too suspicious, Sergeant Beaumont. She’s smart enough to know that she shouldn’t hear what we’re talking about, eh?” He asked Serena. “You must be new. I haven’t seen you before.”

She curtsied again. “Yes sir, I started yesterday. My name is Rena. I’m only filling in until Dietra returns.”

“Captain, she shouldn’t be standin’ in here while I talk about this!” Beaumont complained. “Why can’t she wait outside?”

“She’s too pretty to wait outside,” LeGrande said with a wave of his hand. “Let’s break for lunch now! If you’re worried, put away the maps and papers, Sergeant. You can serve us now, Rena.”

“Thank you, sir,” Serena said almost joyfully. She pushed the cart closer to the table and began unloading the covered tureens and dishes with specific attention to making the least clatter possible.

“What’s the special today?” LeGrande asked, watching Serena bending down to lift dishes off the lower shelf of the cart.

“Shrimp étouffée, chicken jambalaya with dirty rice, and corn biscuits.”

“Hmmm, smells good,” LeGrande said, sniffing the aromas rising from the plates. “You like the jambalaya here, don’t you, Sergeant Pointdexter?”

“Sho’ do, Cap’n,” answered the tall, lanky white man who had limp brown hair and a toothy, horselike smile. “Ain’t nobody can make a jambalaya like Minnie.”

Soon there was no discussion, only the slurping of working-class men at table. Serena was quick to step forward to refill bowls as needed from the covered tureens. After the men finished eating, she cleared away the dishes and silverware. Before she left the room, she asked, “If Dietra is not here tomorrow, would you like me to just bring in the food and then wait outside?”

LeGrande chuckled. “Don’t you worry your pretty little head about what Sergeant Beaumont say. You just come on in here any old time. You’re too good-looking to wait outside, eh?”

“Is there anything else, Captain LeGrande?” Serena asked with a curtsy.

“No,” he answered with a wink. “What I want ain’t on the regular menu.”

Serena returned downstairs to the prep service area and was elated. She had made contact and had stirred LeGrande’s interest. Her problem was how to use that interest to her benefit.

Later that night, Serena was sitting around the dining-room table with Claude, Dirty Red, Sampson, and Journer. Serena was discussing LeGrande. “He knows where King and Phillip are being held! I’m sure of it! He seems to be in charge of everything else that would normally be handled by the sheriff.”

“Okay, so he knows,” Dirty Red conceded. “What do it matter? He ain’t gon’ tell us!”

“What if I can tease him into meeting me some place where we can kidnap him?”

“Kidnap Captain LeGrande?” Claude nearly gagged on his coffee. “We’re talking about the parish police! Are you serious? Those fools are looking for us!”

“No, she got somethin’!” Dirty Red countered. “They lookin’ fo’ us, but they ain’t expectin’ fo’ us to be lookin’ for them! We might just get the captain on the sly! It’d be somethin’ that King would try.”

“You said, ‘Anybody could be made to talk’!” Serena declared. “If we kidnap him, we can find out what he knows.”

“The question is how do we do it and then how quickly can we put the plan into action?” Claude observed. “It looks like the sheriff may be getting out of the hospital the beginning of next week. Whatever we do has to be done before that.”

“I know how,” Serena answered with a determined expression. “Find me a place, an apartment where I can bring LeGrande. It can’t be too sleazy and it can’t be too fancy. It has to be on a dark street with lots of traffic. I need it by the day after tomorrow.”

“You’re playin’ with fire, Serena,” Journer cautioned. “Anythin’ can happen with LeGrande. He can be mean.”

“Fire can be used a lot of different ways and I’m ready to burn my hands and everything else to get my man back. Whatever I have to do, we’ll get LeGrande! As King used to say, ‘Everything is on the table and the stakes are high!’ ”

The next morning Serena held her breath, hoping that Dietra would remain home sick for a couple more days. Dietra did not appear by seven. Standing in the presenting line as hands and gloves were inspected, Serena silently rejoiced in Dietra’s continued absence. As lunchtime grew near, Clarence Thomas directed her to serve LeGrande’s conference room again. Serena hurriedly prepared a pitcher of cold lemonade and took it up to the conference room.

LeGrande was alone when Serena entered. “Oh, it’s the pretty girl from yesterday,” he said as she put the lemonade on the table.

“I’m just checking if it will be three for lunch again today, sir.”

“No, I’ve two city councilmen coming, eh. So, make it lunch for five. We’ll take the special, whatever it is.” LeGrande paused and looked her up and down suggestively. “Too bad the menu’s not bigger. There’s some other things I wouldn’t mind sampling, eh?”

Serena curtsied. “At the Lafayette Social Club we aim to please, sir. We want to make sure that the right people are satisfied. We can make changes in the menu to order.”

LeGrande turned around and gave Serena his full attention. Then a smile slowly spread across his face. “I’m interested in something sweet and juicy. I don’t see it on the menu,” he said in a husky tone.

The door swung open and Dietra walked in. “I’s back,” she said to Serena. “You can go back to the kitchen now.”

LeGrande’s angry voice cut through the ambience. “Did I ask you to come in?” His words were directed at Dietra and she was momentarily confused.

“Suh?” Dietra asked, shaking her head.

“I didn’t give you permission to come in here, did I?”

Dietra did not miss the seriousness of LeGrande’s tone, but her desire to reclaim her assignment drove her forward. “I was just comin’ to send the new girl back to the kitchen. Servin’ the conference room is my job. She new. She don’t get no position on the second flo’ until she broke in.”

“Get out!” LeGrande ordered. “And don’t ever come back in here without knocking for permission, eh! Do you understand me?”

“Yes, suh,” Dietra answered meekly, but the look she gave Serena out of the corner of her eye was filled with hate. She backed quickly out of the room and closed the door quietly.

“I think I may have a problem there,” Serena said, nodding at the door through which Dietra had exited.

“I can smooth that for you. You don’t worry, eh? You come see me after lunch.”

Serena gave LeGrande her sweetest smile. “All right, sir. I’ll tell Dietra she can serve lunch then.”

“Do what is best, eh? I’ll see you this afternoon.”

“Yes, sir. Do you want coffee or beer with your lunch?”

LeGrande nodded in appreciation. “You’re a smart girl. Better bring coffee. These council boys are temperance people.”

“I’ll tell Dietra.”

Once outside the conference room, Serena exhaled and momentarily leaned against the wall. In front of LeGrande she had been icy calm. Alone, she was almost trembling. She had set the stage for the first part of the plan. Now she needed a moment to think about how to make her next move. Dietra was waiting for her by the dumbwaiter. Serena did not intend to stop and talk. She continued past Dietra to the service stairway and said in passing, “He’s ready for you now.”

“Wait a minute, you chisling heifer! You need some straightenin’ out!” Dietra grabbed Serena’s arm to swing her around, but Serena was prepared and used Dietra’s impetus to swivel and stand nose to nose with her assailant.

Serena stared directly into Dietra’s eyes. “You don’t want a piece of me! I’m not after your job. We’re not competing.” Serena wadded a towel in her fist and turned to walk away, but Dietra grabbed her arm again.

“I ain’t through with you!” Dietra snarled.

“Yes, you are,” Serena snapped as she spun and hit Dietra under the eye with the fist that had the towel wadded in it. Dietra fell backward over a cleaning bucket and landed on the floor with a crash. Without waiting a moment further, Serena descended the service stairway to the kitchen. She passed Thomas on the stairs; he was on his way to investigate the commotion. He gave her a questioning look and in reply she shrugged her shoulders, indicating she was in the dark as well. Serena was not fearful that her altercation with Dietra would affect the implementation of her plans. LeGrande would not think it unusual for colored girls to vie for the prestige of serving him. If anything, it would disguise her true intentions more completely.

Three o’clock came far too soon for Serena’s comfort. At first it had seemed as if the day was dragging by: each minute was a definable entity, with sixty distinguishable parts, then suddenly it was two-thirty, and then it was three. She went to the conference room unprepared and without a strategy.

LeGrande was alone in the room, standing by a map that was tacked on a large easel. He appeared to be studying a bit of coastline. He turned to her as she entered and asked, “Where have you been, eh? I waited for you to come back.”

“I had a little trouble with Dietra, but it’s all over now.”

“How did it end with her?”

“She fell over a pail.”

“I see,” LeGrande mused. “And you, of course, had nothing to do with it?”

“Not a thing, but it still worries me a little bit.”

“If you had nothing to do with it, why are you worried, eh?”

“I heard she was Sergeant Beaumont’s girl. I’m worried she might try to use him to get to me, but I wouldn’t be worried if I was under your protection.”

LeGrande walked over to her and put his hand beneath her chin. “I don’t give my protection to just anyone, eh? Only those who deserve it! How do I know that you deserve it, eh?”

“I guess you have to find out,” Serena suggested.

LeGrande grabbed her shoulders and turned her around so that she was facing away from him. His hands rubbed her body through the material of her uniform. His touch was rough and uncaring. He was not concerned about her response to him. He guided her from behind to a table, lifted her skirt, pushed her thick woolen underpants down, and bent her down over the wooden surface. It did not take him long to enter her. He held her so that she couldn’t move and thrust his penis into her repeatedly.

As her body was being invaded and violated, Serena concentrated on a red book that she saw on the shelf of a distant wall by the door. It was fire-engine red and lay on its side as if it had been recently thumbed through. Her thighs were pressed hard against the edge of the tabletop as LeGrande jerked back and forth within her. His grip had grown tighter as he reached his peak. Suddenly, he began thrusting harder, grunting heavily with each thrust until she felt the spasm of his ejaculation. Serena was glad that she was faced away from him for she didn’t think that she could have made herself smile while he was inside her. She did not want to turn around and face him now. The truth was she never wanted to face him again unless she had a gun in her hand. He withdrew from her and she shuddered with disgust.

Misunderstanding her reaction, LeGrande murmured in her ear from behind, “It was good for you too, eh?”

“I never felt anything like it before,” she answered, trying to stay focused on her objective. She wanted to run screaming from the room. Then within seconds she was paralyzed by the prospect of King finding out that she had been had by a white man. She was not sure how King would react to that information, but none of the potential responses that she thought of were positive. In that one moment she knew that she had to kill LeGrande and that she would never tell anyone that he had ever touched her. No one would ever know. The secret would die with him.