The End of the Line (11 page)

Latesha,
as if she was at a Sunday social, smiled warmly at Ivan and gestured to Peter.
“Ivan, this is Peter Elsworth. He’s my friend.”

Ivan
held out his hand. “Nice to meet you, Peter.”

Peter
shook Ivan’s hand. “Nice to meet you, too.”

“Me
and Millie are going to the play,” Ivan said to Latesha with exaggerated respect.
He was almost self-effacing and it was obvious he had a special affection for
her. “We’re really looking forward to it.”

Latesha
was remarkably calm and equally pleasant. “Are you bringing the kids?”

“No,
we’ll leave them with Mom and Dad and sneak off on our own. It’ll give us a
chance to get out. Just the two of us.”

“That
sounds nice, Ivan,” Latesha said with a warm smile.

Ivan
nodded at Peter, tipped his hat to Latesha, then got into his truck. “Time to
roll, boys. We got work to do.”

Donnie
turned to Tiny. “Peace.”

Tiny
held up two fingers in the shape of a ‘v.’ “Peace,” he said with a twang.

The
white men in the muscle car quickly pulled out of the parking lot and headed
toward Lakeview, four trucks following closely behind as they crossed the bridge.

“Let’s
motor,” Tiny called to his friends.

The
two cars pulled out of the parking lot and were followed away from the store by
the men who had stopped across the road. The storekeeper looked at Latesha,
raised his eyebrows and shook his head, then went back inside. The teenagers, obviously
intent on telling their families and friends what happened, took their portable
stereo and hurried up the road. It was over that fast. Latesha and Peter turned
to each other.

“Well,
that was interesting,” Peter said.

Latesha
made a funny face and rolled her eyes. Peter smiled charmingly at her.

“I
better go home now,” Latesha said. “We’ll walk together back to your truck and
say goodbye there. It’s best that we don’t see each other after that.”

Peter
did not answer, but when Latesha started moving, he walked by her side. As they
approached the community center, they again heard the boys playing ground
hockey. Nearby, three men threw a football back and forth. The oldest, a tall,
thin man over fifty, stopped abruptly and pointed at Peter. The other two
looked, spoke among themselves, then went back to playing catch. But the oldest
man continued to stare at him in a confrontational way.

“That’s
Tin Man,” Latesha unexpectedly whispered, as if that information was vitally
important. “My father hates him. He’s a real jerk.”

Before
Peter could respond, a woman in her mid-thirties came down the steps of the
community center, muttering in exasperation and shaking her head. “Oh,
Latesha,” she said, “thank heaven you came along. We’ve got a big problem.” She
smiled warmly and nodded at Peter. “Hello.”

“Hello,”
he returned pleasantly.

“Mary,
this is Peter Elsworth,” Latesha noted, feeling awkward. “I met him at the
university and he’s a friend of mine. Peter, this is Mary Wright. She’s the
coordinator of the community center and she is our soloist at the Beechwood
Church. She has a tremendous voice.”

“You’re
too kind,” Mary said, though it was obvious she enjoyed the praise.

Peter
shook her hand. “Pleasure to meet you, Mary.”

“Pleasure
to meet you, Peter.”

“I’d
like to hear you sing sometime,” Peter said.

“Peter’s
favorite song is State of Independence by Donna Summer,” Latesha noted, then
glanced at Peter and saw he was very pleased she had remembered. “Do you know
that song, Mary?”

“Yes!”
Mary exclaimed. “Our choir does that song in practice, but never live.”
Something suddenly occurred to her and her whole face became animated. “I’ll
tell you what, Peter. The choir is going to be at church tomorrow morning and
we’ll do the song if you come.”

“Tomorrow?”
he said.

“Yes,
right in the Beechwood Baptist Church. It’s just across the road from
Latesha’s.”

Latesha
was taken aback by the invitation, but pretended to be disinterested.

“What
time?”

Latesha
was even more surprised when Peter expressed interest, but she did not even try
to hide her look of consternation.

“Ten.
Can you come?”

“I
don’t know anyone,” Peter stammered awkwardly.

“Sure
you do. You know me, and you know Latesha. Latesha goes every Sunday morning,
don’t you, Latesha?”

“Yes,”
she mumbled.

“She
always sits in the back right pew,” Mary said, “and there’s always room beside
her. Could you save Peter a spot, Latesha?”

“It’s
a free country,” she said flatly, “but I can’t promise to save a seat that
someone else might want.”

“There!”
Mary exclaimed, ending the debate. “Peter, you come along tomorrow morning
about nine forty-five and Latesha will save you a seat if no one else needs
it.”

Latesha
silently glared at Mary, but Mary either didn’t notice, or pretended not to
notice.

“I’ll
give it some serious thought,” Peter said. “Thank you for the invitation.”

“So,
Mary,” Latesha interjected in a high-pitched voice, intent on changing the
subject, “what’s the big problem?”

“The
power went out,” she said, throwing up her hands. “We have a meeting here in
fifteen minutes and there’s no power.” She shook her head. “Sometimes I feel
like giving up.”

“Can
I help?” Peter offered. “I’m an electrician.”

Mary
looked at him over her glasses. “Say what?”

“He
is an electrician,” Latesha assured her.

Mary
opened up her hands in a welcoming gesture. “God sent you, I’m sure of it.
There’s no other explanation. Would you mind?”

“Not
at all,” he said, walking past her toward the front door.

Mary
looked at Latesha and wiggled her eyebrows. Latesha pretended not to understand
what she meant. “Where did you find him?” Mary whispered when he was out of
earshot. “He’s a sweetheart.”

Latesha
smirked and shook her head as the two women walked into the dim community
center, their footsteps echoing in the large open area. Peter was already
inspecting the interior, his eyes drifting from the newly painted drywall to
the hardwood flooring on the dark stage.

“Still
needs work, I know,” Mary said, walking up to him. “The office is finished and
that’s where we’re holding our meeting. Come on in, but watch your step.” She
picked her way through construction materials on the floor. “The power has been
going off lately and Tom does something to get it back on, but it keeps
happening.”

Peter
poked his head in the office, noticed a kettle and removed its plug from the
socket. “How do you get into the basement?”

“Follow
me,” Mary said.

Latesha
caught his eye. “Are you sure you don’t mind doing this?”

“Not
at all,” he said warmly. “I like to help out.”

Latesha
was pleased with his manner, even though things were becoming more complicated
by the minute. There was something special about him, as if he made the world
come alive for her. Though she would not tell him, or even admit it to herself,
having him there made even the most mundane things more exciting.

As
Mary led Peter down the steps, Latesha followed closely behind him, admiring
his broad shoulders and athletic body. He suddenly turned around and smiled.
Latesha smiled back at him and her whole face lit up.

When
they got to the bottom, the last step was missing and in its place was a large
red cone, like those used to indicate road hazards. Mary held the bannister and
carefully climbed down, mentioned the missing step to Peter, then walked across
the basement. Peter adeptly skipped over the broken step and abruptly turned to
face Latesha. He looked her in the eyes and held out his hand. Instinctively
she accepted his hand and he helped her down, lightly clasping her around the
waist to make sure she didn’t slip. When she stood facing him, their hands were
still joined, his left and her right, and their hands were firmly pressed
together. Finally, gathering her wits, Latesha thanked him and started walking
across the basement.

Peter
immediately began inspecting the wiring. He followed it to the circuit box.
“Hmm,” he mumbled.

“What
is it?” Mary asked.

“A
lot of this wiring is new, but some of it needs to be upgraded. Right now it’s
a fire hazard.”

Mary
winced. “Oh, no, not more money! Just the news we didn’t need to hear.”

“There’s
no way it will pass inspection.”

Latesha
and Mary looked at each other and grimaced.

“The
inspectors are coming soon,” Mary said, sighing loudly. “If they reject us,
we’ll have to cancel the play.”

“Maybe
we could just postpone it for a while,” Latesha proposed.

Mary
shook her head. “Most of the tickets are sold and the agreement we signed is
binding. We either perform
Romeo and
Juliet
on September twenty-seventh or we have to pay back the ten thousand
dollars.” She sighed and rubbed her forehead. “Where are we going to get the
money to cover this, Latesha?”

“It
won’t cost you a cent,” Peter said as he continued to examine the wiring.

Latesha
and Mary turned to him with confused expressions.

“I
did a job for a contractor a couple months ago,” Peter explained, glancing at
them, “and he was tight on money. In lieu of payment he gave me wiring left
over from another job. There’s more than enough to cover this upgrade. I’ll
install it and do all the work for free. I can’t see it taking me more than two
or three hours.”

Mary
looked at Latesha. “Where did you find this man? I want to order myself a dozen
just like him.”

Peter
laughed, but Latesha seemed strangely pensive.

“Are
you serious?” Mary asked him with a hopeful look. “You would do the job for
free?”

“Scout’s
honor,” he said, crossing his heart with his fingers. “Maybe you could give
Latesha a key to let me in.”

Latesha
was momentarily at a loss for words. “I already have a key,” she finally said.

“Perfect.”
Peter flipped a switch. “You lost power because the circuit wasn’t able to
handle the kettle in the office. Like I said, it’s really old. Once I make the
changes, you’ll be able to run anything without a problem.”

“Lord
be praised!” Mary exclaimed, lifting her hands and looking upwards.

“When
can we do it?” Peter asked Latesha.

“I
don’t know,” Latesha stammered.

“Since
it’s the weekend and I need a few more things, we’ll have to do it early next
week if that’s okay with you.”

“Monday?”
Mary asked hopefully.

Peter
shook his head. “There’s a talent show at the university Monday evening and I
won’t be able to make it that day.”

“Latesha’s
in that show, too,” Mary noted, looking for a moment at her friend. “Aren’t
you, Tesha?”

“Yes,”
Latesha mumbled, looking mortified. She forced a smile. “Mary is the real
singer and she would win for sure, but she had a prior engagement.”

“You’re
a wonderful singer,” Mary said. “Latesha and I have been working on her song,
you know.”

“Oh?”
Peter said with great interest. “What have you chosen? Or is it a secret?”

Mary
did not give Latesha a chance to answer. “She’s going to sing Killing Me Softly.
Roberta Flack made it famous back in the day and The Fugees did a remake. Do
you know it?”

“Of
course. Beautiful song. I’ll be looking forward to hearing Latesha sing it.”

“What
song are you doing, Peter?” Mary asked.

“Indian
Summer
by The Doors.”

“I
don’t know it,” Mary said with a quizzical look. “Are you familiar with that
song, Latesha?”

She
shook her head and shrugged her shoulders.

“I’m
sure that if I was on
The Gong Show
,”
Peter said jokingly, “they’d give me the hook.”

The
women laughed.

“Since
Monday is out,” Peter said, “how about Tuesday evening? I could be here at
six.”

“That
would be great!” Mary said enthusiastically.

“I’m
not sure I’ll be able to make it,” Latesha remarked quietly, “so could you let
Peter in if I can’t, Mary?”

“Not
a problem,” she answered.

“I’ll
be here at six on Tuesday evening,” Peter promised, obviously disappointed that
there was no guarantee he would see Latesha. “Until then, avoid using the kettle
with other things in that socket.”

“I’ll
pass the word,” Mary said.

They
walked to the steps and this time Latesha climbed over the broken board on her
own, without accepting Peter’s hand or even looking at him. When they got
upstairs, the power was on in the office. Mary was going to boil water for tea
when Peter asked if he could go into the basement again to make sure of
something. The women waited behind and started talking after he left.

“Did
you ask for me?” Latesha said.

Mary
nodded. “He said it’s yours if you want it. But remember, it’s seven days a
week, from ten at night until three in the morning. You’d be responsible for
washrooms, including scrubbing the toilets. You have to have taxi money for the
trip home. That would cut into your pay.”

“Right
now it doesn’t look like I have any choice.”

“The
other girl is leaving at the end of October, so the job starts November first.
Have you got enough money to last until then?”

“Barely,”
Latesha said with fear palpable in her voice. “We’re so tight, Mary. So tight.”

“I
could lend you a couple hundred dollars if you need it,” Mary said, though it
was obvious the words did not come easily.

“No,
but thank you. We’ll be fine. I just need that job, even if it means quitting
school.”

“You
can’t do that, Latesha.”

“Please
tell him I’ll take the job.”