Standing at the Scratch Line (86 page)

King said in a level voice, “He ain’t no servant. If you wants a drink, you get up and go to the bar.” He felt an immediate dislike for Manning and he knew his feelings would not improve.

Manning frowned at King but satisfied himself with a smirk and walked over to the bar.

Rafer Brisco and another man pushed through the mesh while Charles was getting his drink. Rafer said, “We’s been swingin’ iron and sweatin’ hard all day.We’s as dry as meat cured with salt. Give us doubles of what the house is servin’ tonight!”

King announced, “Ain’t no cards tonight, but you mens can have a drink or two on the house tonight befo’ we close.” With words and gestures of thanks everyone got themselves a generous shot.

“The railroad sure been good to Bodie Wells,” Buck Henry observed as he sat down at the table with his bourbon. “We got more business now than we had in years. This here town is now one of the largest all-colored towns in eastern Oklahoma and we just seem to keep on growing.”

“We’s just another boomtown,” Lightning countered as he poured a drink for himself at the bar. “When they’s finished layin’ track and buildin’ the depot north of Clairborne, we gon’ return to the sleepy li’l town we used to be.”

“You wrong there,” Buck argued. “From what I hear, there’s going to be work for any colored man who don’t mind bending his back!”

“You talkin’ ’bout that new water project?” Lightning asked. “I heard that they ain’t gon’ allow no spillover water to run through the farmland around Bodie Wells. They gon’ divert it through Clairborne.”

“That’s just loose lips flapping in the wind. We’re in the midst of change. Things aren’t ever gon’ be the same,” Buck answered. “Why, the last time I was in Atoka, I spoke with Lewellen Carwell, the president of Atoka Federated Bank, and he told me about how he’s buying stock certificates on the market in New York City and investing his customers’ money so he can pay them interest on their deposits. The telephone makes it all possible. You can know within twenty minutes how your stock is doing fifteen hundred miles away. No doubt about it, it’s a new day.”

“Is you investin’ our money like that?” King asked with a stare.

Buck coughed a little awkwardly, “I haven’t done anything yet, but I’m considering it. I’m sure you wouldn’t mind a little return on your depoisit, would you?”

“I’d rather be sure of my money,” King countered.

Charles Manning changed the subject in a jaunty voice, “Anyone interested in playin’ a little poker? We’re goin’ to get up a game out at the Black Rose.”

King watched Manning tapping his manicured fingers on the felt and was irritated by his cocky airs. King figured him for a slickster as well as a back-shooter. He knew that he wouldn’t trust him to deal straight off the top of the deck.

“Not me,” Elijah answered. “I have to go home to the wife.”

“I could play some five-dollar limit,” Rafer ventured.

Manning scoffed, “Five dollars is small time! We’s all men here, ain’t we? Let’s make the game mo’ interestin’!”

“Any limit is too rich for me,” Juke volunteered as he leaned against the bar. “I ain’t had a full paycheck in a month. I’s savin’ my money for pussy and some drinks.”

The mesh of the back door pushed open and Sampson stepped into the room. He nodded to King and held the mesh open until a large spotted hound padded in, followed by a little Jacques who was holding on to the dog’s tail. He fell crossing the threshold. The dog stopped and waited for him to regain his feet, which he did, using the dog’s tail as a support. Then he and the dog continued on around to the bar.

Juke exclaimed, “Damn! Is that a blue tick hound?”

“Yep, that’s old Nell,” answered Lightning. “But you got to hear her sing on a night hunt. She got the voice of an opry star when she got the scent of an elk or a lion in her nose. She run at the head of the pack with Towser, and everybody know he the best huntin’ dog in these parts!” He took a couple of big biscuits from behind the bar and tossed one to Nell who caught it and gulped it down and gave the other to Jacques who leaned against the dog as he munched on his biscuit.

Nell started around the table with the boy still holding on to her tail to where King was sitting.

Charles Manning smirked, “She don’t look like no huntin’ dog to me with a li’l pickaninny holdin’ on to her tail. He sho’ is a cute li’l nigger though.” He reached out to pat the child’s head, but Nell instantly pivoted, snarling with teeth bared, and faced him. All semblance of an uncaring, ambling animal was gone. Nell was all hunter now. The man jerked his hand back as if he had touched a hot griddle. It was clear to all present that she could have taken his hand off at the wrist had she wanted to.

Once the intruder had been put in his place, Nell continued on as if the incident hadn’t occurred. Jacques, still holding on to the dog’s tail, stared at Charles with big eyes as he toddled by. Nell sat down with dignity next to King and little Jacques slid down the side of the dog to the seat of his pants and continued munching on his biscuit.

“Yesiree, Nell loves that Little Jack,” Lightning chuckled gleefully. “Can’t nobody touch him, if she don’t know him! She be a bitin’ dog!”

Manning scowled, “You ought to keep that dog to guardin’ pickaninnies, otherwise somebody might have to take a stick to her to teach her a lesson.”

“You better say joe, ’cause you sho’ don’t know. It’s you who needs a lesson,” King said as he laid a pearl-handled Colt pistol on the table. Sampson leaned behind the bar and picked up a shotgun. King hadn’t liked the man from the beginning. Now that he had overstepped his bounds, King was ready to take him down. King growled, “My son ain’t no pickaninny and he ain’t no nigger!”

Manning’s face drained of color as the room went silent. Manning sat perfectly still, then said, “Didn’t mean nothin’.”

“Maybe it’s time we call it an evening?” Buck suggested, standing up.

“That’s a good idea,” King agreed as he stared challengingly into Manning’s face.

Both Buck and Manning avoided making eye contact with King as they made their way quickly to the door.

Rafer stood up and said, “Thanks for the drinks and the excitement. I think we’s gon’ mosey along too.” Elijah and Juke added their thanks and followed Rafer through the mesh.

“Time to close up.” King said, and stooped to pick up his little son who was already beginning to nod off. As soon as he had the child in his arms, the boy fell asleep and started to snore.

King carried his son upstairs and placed him in his crib. He went to the stove and got some hot water and a wash cloth. He returned to the crib and took off his son’s clothes slowly and gently. The boy never wakened while his father washed him down and put a diaper on him. Jacques was potty trained except for a few rare accidents, but he still needed diapers during the night. Once King had a warm nightshirt on Jacques, he stood watching the child sleep. Whenever he looked at Jacques, he felt something in his chest that he could not explain. All he knew was that he would protect and nurture this child no matter the cost or the effort. It was not a conscious decision, but rather something that originated deep within him. Jacques was the first step in the creation of his new family.

King turned and looked at the empty crib across the room and thought of LaValle. He wondered how children of the same mother could be so different. It did not take much to frighten LaValle and he cried easily and often. He ran to his mother with the slightest injury and hid his face in her skirts. He was a weakling and King couldn’t stand it. King often wondered whether it was because he was LeGrande’s son. Jacques, on the other hand, had fiber and toughness that made his father proud. King recalled an incident in the week preceding in which Jacques had gotten nipped by one of the hounds for being too close to his food bowl. Jacques cried out in pain then picked up a stick and whacked the hound across the nose with it, causing the dog to make a great deal more noise yelping. King knew that if it had been LaValle who had been nipped, he would have run for the protection of his mother’s arms.

Even the lack of toughness King could have made allowances for, but the nail in the coffin was that LaValle was always trying to hurt his younger brother. LaValle was jealous of Jacques and he had to be constantly watched. If the boys were left alone together, one could be sure that Jacques was being pummeled by his older brother. It was this bullying, sibling envy more than anything else that caused LaValle to be a continual source of irritation to King, and LaValle, possessing a child’s delicate antenna, sensed King’s silent anger and quailed in his presence. Aware of LaValle’s fear of King, Serena never left her older son in her husband’s care, and no amount of discussion would assuage her concerns. King had argued many times that the situation could be remedied if Serena would turn over the rearing and training of both boys to him. He knew he could make them act as brothers and make them his, but Serena would not allow it, nor would she stop interceding on LaValle’s behalf in every confrontation with his father. Frustrated, King relinquished his efforts and had turned his attention to Jacques.

When King returned to the card room, he signed Sampson that he should go get the truck from Octavius’s garage. King went into the hall and unlocked his gun cabinet and took out a couple of rifles. He had decided not to go to Atoka. He figured that since the railroad had mobilized all law enforcement in the area to come to the railhead, it was an ideal time to move several large shipments of bootleg that he had stored outside of Johnsonville.

Lightning was in the process of putting the liquor away and locking up for the evening when King said, “I need you to keep an eye on Little Jacques until his mother returns tonight. Sampson and I have few chores to do and we might not get back until tomorrow mo’nin’.

“Ain’t no problem” Lightning answered. “I’ll tell the missus you gon’ be gone.”

As he and Sampson drove toward Johnsonville, King mused over the unfortunate relationship between Jacques and LaValle, and, as always, when he thought of his children, he thought of the child who had disappeared in New Orleans. When King had burned DuMonts’ Landing he had learned from one of the men he captured that the child had been given to LeGrande. The information he had received from Pointdexter who now served as his man on the scene had revealed nothing new. The whereabouts of the child appeared to have died with LeGrande, but King would not lessen the intensity of his search. Something undefinable told him that the boy was alive and King knew that he would not rest until he found him, even if it took a lifetime.

S
 A T U R D A Y,  
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Serena and King were restocking shelves in the store in the late afternoon when Ida Hoskins came in from the dress shop shaking her head. There was an angry expression on her face as she said, “That fool woman, Yvonne Miller from the beauty parlor, is in sayin’ she got to buy some dresses ’cause she movin’ to Oklahoma City. I done showed her all the ready-made and she done turned up her nose at ’em. She about on my last nerve! Now she want to look at bolts of material for us to make dresses for her. Should I do that?”

Serena smiled. “Try not to let her get to you. If she’s willing to put up three quarters of the total cost, we’ll make her dresses. If not, good-bye. How’s that?”

“Suits me fine,” Ida said with a nod of her head, and returned to the dress shop.

King and Serena worked side by side for nearly twenty minutes before she turned to him and said, “Everybody’s talking about the run on the bank this morning and how you pulled a gun on Buck Henry. In front of everybody, King. How could you? Don’t you know you’re ruining our reputation?”

King replied, “Yo’ jaws would really be tight if I let him steal our money.”

“Did you hear that Octavius barely stopped him from getting tarred and feathered by a mob?”

“No less than he deserves. He ain’t nothin’ but a thief.”

Seeing that King had no remorse for his actions, Serena changed her tactics. “You smelled like a distillery when you came in this morning. I don’t ask where you go, but I’m beginning to wonder when all this cut-and-shoot stuff is going to stop. You are harming other people! I know about your bootlegging trips and I’ve stayed away from saying anything, but events at the bank force me to speak.”

“Speak then. Say everythin’ that’s on yo’ mind.”

“We’ve got a good business here. We don’t need money made from criminal activities! We can be respectable! We could be pillars in this community! But how can we when you make no effort to improve yourself and you resort to violence and criminal activity! I mean, look at you; you still speak like a common field hand! Look at the kind of impression you make!”

“That’s what important to you, is it?” King asked in a level tone. “Bein’ accepted by folks? Let me tell you somethin’, the people in this town don’t give a shit about you or me! They’d have walked all over you if it wasn’t for me! They only respect two things, power and money! Buck Henry talk good, but he wasn’t nothin’ but slime. You heard how they treated him! Actions speak loud, words is just air! The only time I’d give a damn about what somebody think is when they’s payin’ my mortgage!”

A child’s scream pierced the air. It was Jacques. King looked around. “Where’s LaValle?”

“He’s in his crib.”

King took off running. He went up the stairs three at a time and was down the hall in two leaps. The door to Jacques and LaValle’s room was open. From the doorway, King could see LaValle standing outside Jacques’s crib, poking a stick through the crib’s bars. Jacques screamed out again as the stick jabbed him in the back. King was in the room before LaValle could react. When LaValle saw King he dropped the stick and screamed in fear. King caught him up by the arm in a steel grip and LaValle screamed at the top of his lungs. King lifted the child off the floor and saw LaValle’s face, contorted and reddened with fear and pain. For the first time, King saw LeGrande’s features in the child’s face and his grip involuntarily tightened as he looked in the face of his long-dead enemy.

Serena screamed from the doorway, “What are you doing to that baby?” Her voice was shrill and brought King back to his senses. He set the child down and picked up Jacques, who was still teary-eyed. LaValle ran to his mother and buried his face in her skirts, bawling loudly.

“What kind of beast are you to frighten a child like that?” Serena demanded angrily. King turned to face her and Serena saw a look that chilled her to the bone. There was hatred in his eyes.

“You see that stick on the floor? You see these red marks on Jacques’s face and back? That little bastard of yours was stabbing him through the bars, trying to hurt him!”

“LaValle is just a child. He didn’t know—”

“Bullshit!” King interrupted. His tone was low and bloodless. “You always come up with excuses for him! Let me tell you one thing straight from the get, Miss Siditty. I ain’t gon’ let you harm another son of mine ’cause you got different priorities. If I see that bastard lay another hand on Jacques, I’m gon’ tear his arms off of him! You better watch him good if’en you want him to grow up!” King took Jacques and walked out the door. “You better find another place for the bastard to sleep too!”

Serena felt like her heart had been pierced by icicles. She sank to the floor and the tears flowed silently down her face. LaValle saw his mother’s tears and bawled even louder. She pulled him to her and held him firmly to her breast until he quieted. It was clear that King held an unremitting anger for the disappearance of his firstborn child. It was also clear that he did not trust her with Jacques’s welfare. She wondered what type of life was in store. She did not doubt for a minute that King would kill LaValle if he was responsible for any kind of serious injury to Jacques. He had disowned LaValle and called him a bastard.

There were just so many tears in her. Serena stood up wearily. LaValle whimpered to be picked up. Serena’s first tendency was to accede to his desire but she fought against it. She thought, You’ve got to be tough if you’re going to survive, if you want to win King’s respect. She grabbed him by the hand and led him down the stairs.

Ida Hoskins was waiting for Serena in the store. She had a worried look on her face. “Is everythin’ alright, Rena?”

Serena took a deep breath. “Yes, thank you, Ida. Is Yvonne Miller still in the store?”

“Yes, ma’am, but I think you should just let me run her out ands tell her we don’t want none of her business!”

“Why?”

“She in there with one of her girlfriends and she ain’t been sayin’ nice things about you at all!”

“Would you watch LaValle for me?” Serena asked sweetly. LaValle cried in protest but Ida took him and calmed him with loving hands. Serena would not have been able to explain why she looked forward to dealing with Yvonne Miller after an argument with King. Perhaps it was because it was a fight that was finite. It didn’t stretch back deep into her past. It wasn’t rooted in mistakes of judgment that she had committed and was unable to rescind. The problems with Yvonne Miller could be resolved with simple action. Serena walked into the dress shop with a smile on her face.

Yvonne was standing with Belinda Gordon and looking through bolts of material with a nonchalant air. Serena went up to Yvonne and put her hand on a bolt of cloth that Yvonne was unrolling. Her hand stopped Yvonne from unrolling the bolt further. “May I help you?” Serena asked sweetly.

“Well, if it ain’t Miss Uppity,” Yvonne said with a smirk to Belinda.

Serena stepped up in front of Yvonne and asked, “Do you want to do business, or is this more of your folderol?”

“You best get out of my face!” Yvonne declared. “ ’Cause I’ll make you scream like that half-breed child we just heard. You ain’t foolin’ nobody with yo’ airs. The whole town know you tried to get rid of that child and failed. We all know it’s some white man’s bastard! So don’t go actin’ all Miss High and Mighty with me!”

Serena smiled and said, “Oh, I see. Wait right here. I think that I have just what you’re looking for!” She turned and went behind the counter.

Belinda pulled on Yvonne’s sleeve and said nervously, “They don’t have what you’s lookin’ for. Let’s go our way!”

Yvonne answered. “You’s right, honey. This dump don’t got enough class to sell nothin’ to me!” The two women walked out the door.

Serena dug through a drawer behind the counter and found a leather bag filled with buckshot. King had once told her that if you had to hit somebody, fill your hand with something first. She picked up the bag and hurried after the two women. Yvonne and Belinda were nearly to the end of the wooden-plank walkway when Serena called out, “Yvonne! Yvonne, you forgot something!”

Yvonne turned and said to her friend, “Don’t let this heifer have followed me out’n the store! Tell me she didn’t follow me!”

Serena hiked up her skirts and ran to where Yvonne and Belinda waited. “I have a little something for you, something that you can take to Oklahoma City with you!”

“You ain’t got nothin’ I want! You ain’t—” Yvonne never finished her statement.

Serena hit her on the jaw with all the energy and anger that had been produced by her argument with King. Yvonne fell backward off the steps into the street and lay still. Serena turned to Belinda, but she backed away saying, “I ain’t in it! This was between you two. My name’s Bennet. I ain’t in it!”

“Tell your friend if there’s a next time, I’ll butcher her like a hog. She’s lucky she’s leaving town. If I see her again, I may go off!” Serena turned and walked regally back toward the store. Belinda began screaming for help for her motionless friend who was still lying in the street.

Ida Hoskins came out of the store armed with a wooden cudgel, ready to come to Serena’s aid. She soon saw that Serena needed no assistance and that Yvonne was lying out in the street. “You done knocked her out cold!” Ida said, a little awed.

“No more than she deserved,” Serena answered without emotion. Serena entered the dress shop and began putting bolts of material away. Ida came in about ten minutes later and started to help Serena with the straightening, but Serena told her to put up the
CLOSED FOR BUSINESS
sign and to take the rest of the day off with pay. Ida knew better than to argue. She could see that Serena was distraught and wanted to be alone.

As soon as Ida was gone, Serena began to cry. It was obvious to her in a town the size of Bodie Wells that LaValle would never outgrow or escape the gossip surrounding the circumstances of his birth. However, far more depressing was the hatred she had seen in King’s face. What made it all the more tragic was that she had seen how King had in the first couple of years of LaValle’s life made a serious effort to make the boy his son, but theirs was doomed to be a star-crossed relationship. Something always went wrong and LaValle would end up running back to hide his face in her skirts. It was apparent even to her that LaValle lacked the toughness of Jacques; that, combined with the fact King detested weakness, condemned the older boy to perpetually face King’s disgust. Perhaps King could have tolerated the older boy if LaValle had not taken an extreme dislike for his younger brother. Serena was mystified: how could she reason with a three-year-old and explain that for his own sake, he must leave his younger brother alone.

Serena blamed herself for LaValle’s weakness. She felt guilty for attempting to abort him. His birth had been hard, for he was born nearly a month premature. His journey into the world nearly killed him and he was a sickly child for his first year and a half of life. He needed a great deal of attention and mothering, which Serena was happy to give. There was something about the vulnerable helplessness of the child that opened her heart like a key in a lock. They developed a special bond that did not include King and when Jacques was born, LaValle ranted and cried, jealous of the attention his brother was receiving. He could not understand why Jacques could suckle at her breast and he couldn’t. He had begun to hate his younger brother.

It appeared her family was destined to be divided. Serena had begun to notice that Jacques was already drifting away from her. There was no defineable breach; the distance was manifested in little things. Whether he was hungry, sleepy, or had an injury, Jacques always went to his father first. She was only a last resort. And when she reprimanded LaValle regarding his jealous behavior, he would go whimpering to a corner and stay there until she went to get him. It broke her heart, for she loved her sons equally; one just needed more help than the other. She had spent many a night on her knees praying to God for guidance, but she received no direction.

She did realize one thing, that she no longer wanted to live in Bodie Wells. If LaValle could not have a life without being haunted by the town’s small-minded gossips, she was ready to move. Serena figured that a big city provided the best opportunity for her sons. New York was out because Serena didn’t want King to see his old friends who would remind him of Mamie, and she especially didn’t want him to meet up with Mamie again. Thus, she considered San Francisco. It was the farthest you could get from New York and remain in continental America. Her major consideration was how she was going to persuade King to make such a move.