Lost Souls Recovered, page 34
No answer. He knocked again. No answer. Hearing a footfall, he turned and saw a large rotund man coming toward him. The man peered at Theo, causing Theo to say, “I’m here to see Cappie.”
The man said nothing. Theo stood back as the man opened the door and walked in. Theo didn’t move. “You coming?” the man asked.
Theo nodded.
“Follow me,” the rotund man said.
Theo followed at a distance. The rotund man’s skin was the color of the inside of a strawberry shortcake; he was at least a half a foot taller than Theo, and he moved like a bull walrus on land.
The shed was dilpidated, and boards were missing from the one of the walls. Wrought iron rested against a dividing wall. An anvil and other blacksmith tools sat on a table.
The rotund man approached a sliding wood door and rapped it. Someone from the other side of the door slid it open, and the rotund man walked in, followed by Theo.
The air was redolent of beer, whiskey, and smoke. As a patch of smoke cleared, Theo saw Capstone sitting at a desk near the back wall. He looked around the spartan room, starting at his left where he saw the two minx women he’d seen at the rib joint; they looked at Theo and teased him with their eyes, looking at him like he was a steak dinner. To his right were three of Capstone’s associates, each wearing suits and sitting on bales of hay, peering at Theo.
While writing something on paper, Capstone said, “I said at sunset. Where you been?”
Theo recalled that as he spoke to Capstone just outside the entrance to Joe’s rib joint the day he met him, Capstone had said after sunset. But because Theo felt his skin tingle from Capstone’s menacing voice, he dared not gainsay the man who’d provide him with income. He felt it best to apologize. “Sorry I’m late, boss.”
Capstone stood up, adjusting the foulard around his beefy neck. He moved from behind the desk and looked at Theo, who was about fifteen feet away.
The suite was once a stable for horses, but Capstone had it converted for his personal use. The only sign of human occupation was the desk and three chairs. Light passed through from a window up high. When darkness fell, kerosene lanterns were used to shine light on Capstone’s illicit activities.
Capstone stuffed his ubiquitous Cuban cigar in his mouth and picked some fluff from the sleeve of his burgundy suit jacket. Satisfied that the fluff had been removed, he extended his short arms to Theo. “Theo, my boy, welcome to the executive suite. Come to Papa.”
Theo removed his derby and did as commanded. He bent down to allow Capstone to wrap his arms around him. After the embrace, Capstone said, “How you been, boy?”
“Been doing good, Cappie.”
Capstone returned to his seat and propped his stubby legs on the desk. “Ready to start collecting? Can you do that for me, my dear boy?” Capstone said.
“What’s that?” Theo asked.
Capstone looked at Pad, the bull walrus who had escorted Theo inside the shed. Capstone nodded at Pad, which cued Pad to tell Theo his job assignment. Pad said, “Every Wednesday and Friday, your job is to collect numbers from bookies at different locations. Got that?”
Theo was silent.
“This boy here’s dumb, Cappie. Want me to make him talk?”
Capstone hired Pad because Pad was useful in helping Capstone get his money. Pad had worked in a prison mining camp for two years because he was convicted of failing to pay a debt. Coming out of the pestilent mining camp, he had found his way north where he met Capstone. He had become hardened and angry, just what Capstone desired in a man to help him with his business.
“Give him a chance,” Capstone said.
Pad grabbed Theo’s left elbow and ushered him to a corner of the executive room to explain the rules. Pad ended the conversation, saying to Theo, “Don’t let Cappie down.”
“See you Saturday,” Pad told Theo. “Don’t be late.”
Theo nodded and headed for the exit. As one of Capstone’s associates began to slide open the door, Pad said, “You gonna need a piece.”
“Why?” Theo asked.
Pad pulled out a silver whiskey flask, removed the top, and took a swill. As he put the top back on the flask, Pad said, “It’s for your protection, and you gonna need it to enforce payments. Shallow receipts won’t look good around here.”
After Theo left, Capstone looked at his men and asked, “Think he’ll do right by me?” He didn’t wait for an answer. He removed a pistol from the desk drawer and stroked the barrel.
Capstone looked at Pad who was swilling whiskey. “Come here,” Capstone instructed Pad.
“Yeah, boss.”
“Let me see that bottle or whatever it is.”
Pad hesitated. “I don’t want your cheap whiskey,” Capstone added.
He handed the flask to Capstone. Looking at the engraving on it, Capstone said, “Where’d you get this?”
He told Capstone how he had found Robert, the busybody that most town folk knew, dead on the floor. “This shiny bottle was in his vest pocket; I took it.”
Capstone shook his head. “I liked the old man,” Pad said. “After I bought this place from George, he made me promise that Robert could come to the shed every morning for an hour and drink his whiskey. I guess he did that even after George moved to Atlanta.”
Still looking at the flask, Capstone asked Pad, “Do you know the meaning of all this?”
“No.”
49 — Spring, 1920
John dropped his pocketknife and emitted a painful sigh. He rubbed his right thumb over this left index finger in an effort to staunch the bleeding. Money, a brown and white beagle, sat next to John on the porch, barked, and looked at John as if to ask if he would be all right. “Yeah, boy, I’m fine.” A few minutes later, John picked up the knife and resumed whittling a figurine for Tilla’s cocktail table.
“Hey, John,” Junior called out as he sat on a swayback.
John waved. “Morning, Junior.”
Junior dismounted the swayback and tied her to a nearby black gum tree. He favored his left leg as he walked to greet John on the porch. Age had also caught up with him in other ways. The taut, muscular body he once had as a young man was gone. If any stomach muscles still existed, they were now covered by a thick sheath of fat. Hair that was once a lustrous black was now mostly gray. Although he was just a few years older than John, he now looked a decade older.
“That gout still bothering you?” John asked.
Junior leaned on the wood railing that surrounded the front porch. “I guess it’s gout,” he said. “Doctor told me to lay off the whiskey. Maybe I’ll try it to see if it works.”
John raised his right brow and said, “Man, you’re going to do what?”
The point was taken and Junior didn’t respond.
He looked at John as he carved legs on the figurine. He then asked, “You ready?”
“For what?”
“We supposed to go shoot some pool today, remember? Jimmy’s probably already there.”
“Oh, shoot. I forgot all about that. I’ll pass this time around. I’ll go the next time around.”
“Okay,” he said. “How’s Tilla?”
“She has her good days, her bad days. But I have to say that she’s not crying over Claude as much as she used to. She’s now worried about Theo.”
“How’s the boy doing?”
John shook his head to tell Junior he didn’t want to answer the question. Better not to say anything than to open his mouth and risk losing control of his tongue, he thought.
As Junior turned and began to limp to his swayback, John said, “Why’re you still using that old nag?”
He laughed and said, “My daughters keep me broke.”
Tilla, having just finished cleaning the kitchen, opened the screen door just as Junior finished mounting his swayback. She yelled, “Morning, Junior.”
“Morning, Tilla,” he shot back.
She handed John a tall glass of freshly made lemonade. Holding the glass up high, he moved it around to make the lemon seeds swirl. With the lemonade still churning, he held back his head, opened his mouth, and drained the glass. “Thanks, sweetheart. “
“Want some more?” Tilla asked.
“No, dear.”
“John,” she said.
John looked at her waiting to ask a question.
“Oh, nothing.”
“Spill it, honey. What’s on your mind?”
“You know I worry about Theo. He’s running around with those hoodlums. I wish he’d go to church. Reverend Owen would be glad to have him.”
John nodded to signal he commiserated with her.
“How’s Maggie?” John asked.
“Still got the blues. She really wants to get married.”
“Where is she now?”
“Folding clothes in the back yard.”
“Where’s Pearl?”
“Over Goldie’s.”
“What about Willie and Charlie?”
“In the back.”
John looked at Money and said, “Money, go to the back and fetch Maggie.”
Tilla was always amused when John talked to Money. “That dog can’t understand you.”
“You hear that, boy; she thinks you’re dumb. Now go fetch Maggie.”
Money stood up and leaned back as he stretched. After shaking his body a few times, he jumped from the porch to the ground. “Go on,” John said.
“How’s this?” John asked as he showed the figurine to Tilla.
She stood up and kissed him on the cheek. “It’s splendid, dear.”
Money tugged on Maggie’s apron.
“What is it, Money?” Maggie asked.
Money continued to tug.
Maggie tossed a shirt in a basket, and Money released his grip as Maggie followed him.
Money barked, and John looked to the left and saw Maggie in tow. “Maggie,” John said, “come here, darling.”
“Yes, Pa.”
John pointed with his head for Maggie to sit in the chair next to him. She removed a folded newspaper from her apron and tossed it on the floor. She swept her blue chiffon dress under her as she sat down.
At eighteen, Maggie was a handsome woman, powerfully built. She was naturally smart, and she carried herself with a quiet intellect that would be her hallmark. She had long reddish-brown hair, skin the color of cornsilk, and Prussian blue eyes. Her small waist tapered to hips that were slightly out of proportion to her waist. She believed that she wasn’t supposed to work; she was to have babies and support a husband just like her mother.
“Your mama’s worried about you,” John said. “Now tell your pa what’s wrong.”
Maggie hesitated at first but after a little prodding from John, she told him that she wanted to find a man and get married and start a family.
“There some good men in church,” John said.
No response from Maggie. As John searched for what to say next, he thought of Theo, the bad penny in the family. Theo knew lots of people and perhaps knew of a potential suitor for Maggie. “I’ll ask Theo.”
Maggie’s eyes shot to John to register a concern about meeting someone Theo knew. “It’s all right, darling. Theo may know someone who meets your standards.”
“And exactly what are my standards, Pa?”
“Well, we’ll find out, darling.”
Tilla opened the screen door and said, “Maggie, go check on Willie and Charlie.” Maggie rose and did as instructed.
“I’ll be back in an hour or so,” Tilla said to John.
“Where are you off to?”
She did it once a month as best she could. “You should know by now.”
“To look for Claude?”
She nodded.
“Why do you still look for that boy? It’s been about three years since he …” John stopped in mid-sentence, allowing the rest of the sentence to perish.
She looked at John and said: “Just like a baby cub knows his mother’s call, my boy knows my call. He’ll come.” Tilla then walked out the front door to search for Claude. Money, now under the low-slung porch, heard a footfall on the steps and slithered out from under the porch. He whimpered until John gave him the go-ahead to tag along with Tilla.
“Tilla,” John said, “you best use this hat.” She turned around and retrieved John’s oversized straw hat.
k
A loud shot rang out and Tilla’s heart began to race as she sat under a mulberry tree surrounded by a meadow. She chewed quickly to finish off two mulberries already in her mouth. Just as Tilla’s heart settled, another shot rang out.
She whispered to Money, “You hear that?”
Money looked at Tilla as she stood and began to walk in the direction the shots came from. She wiped her hands on her apron and straightened the back of her dress where she felt moisture. She turned her head to the right as she tugged on her dress to bring the moist spot into view. The back of her lisle cotton dress was stained with mulberry juice.
She looked in the direction of several trees about eighty feet away. She heard conversation coming from the direction of the trees and quickly hid beyond a knoll. After hearing no more talk, she peeked over the knoll; she saw a tall man wearing a white hat exit a building ensconced in the trees. The man appeared to be dressed in a suit. A woman ran up to the man and began to argue with him. The woman tried to slap him, but the man pushed her aside and she fell to the ground. The man’s hat fell to the ground while tussling with the woman.
Money barked one time, and Tilla’s heart raced. She saw the man reach into his jacket and retrieve what she thought was a gun. The man picked up his hat, brushed it off while walking, and looked in the direction of the barking dog. Tilla ducked behind the knoll. “Money,” Tilla said quietly. She had lost sight of him. “Money,” she whispered again. Her heart began to pound, fearing Money would spoil her cover. “Money, I need you,” she whispered. Money clawed dirt over his droppings in a tussock and ran to Tilla, who let out a big sigh of relief. Tilla looked over the knoll and saw no one. They scurried home.
Money ran to John and jumped in his lap. “Where’s Tilla?” he asked as he rubbed Money’s head.
A minute later, Tilla climbed the porch steps. She doffed the straw hat and handed it to John. As Tilla moved onto the porch, the red mulberry stains on her dress came into John’s view. “What’s that on your dress?”
“Mulberries stains.”
“Where did you go?
“We just went looking for Claude.”
Tilla’s eyes looked vacant. John asked, “Is something wrong?”
“No.”
Her answers were too laconic for John.
John looked at Money and said, “What’s wrong with Mama? You can tell me.” Tilla grew a slight smile as John talked to Money.
“I heard gunshots near Moulton and Leaves.”
“Did you see something?”
“Just a man coming out some kind of an old building wearing a white hat. A woman was with him.”
“Are you alright?”
She nodded.
“Honey, you look tired. Go wash up and change that dress.”
50 — Summer, 1922
Capstone was in a foul mood. His receipts had been diminishing for months, and he wanted to make sure that others heard about it. Theo, a few collectors and bookies, Pad, and a few of Capstone’s associates convened in the executive suite for a lecture about Capstone’s money problem.
Capstone stood behind his desk, looked at all the men in his suite with inimical eyes, and said, “Somebody’s been skimming money from me.”
Silence.
He opened the desk drawer and plunked his pistol on the top of the desk. “No one’s leaving here till I get my answer,” Capstone said.
“Boss, no one’s stealing from you. They know better than that,” Pad said.
“Shut up!” Capstone snapped at Pad. “I’ll do the talking.”
A cordlike vein popped up on Pad’s right temple and his body swelled beyond its normal gargantuan size.
Capstone observed Pad’s vein and knuckled it with his left hand. Pad stood still as Capstone walked over to one of the collectors. The collector wore a beige slouch suit and a brown derby. He smelled of whiskey and was a head taller than Capstone. Capstone brushed off a few pieces of fluff on the collector’s lapel and looked the collector in eyes that tasted fear and said, “You doing right by me?”
“Yeah, man. I got sense not to do nothing like that.”
Capstone reached up and caressed the collector’s cheek with his right hand. He nodded to signal that he believed the collector.
A few others had passed the test, and they were told to leave. Capstone came to his next subject, Theo. Theo wore a two-piece suit that was the color of a mason’s brick. Capstone unbuttoned Theo’s jacket and looked at the double lining. “Nice suit, Theo. You got some nice threads. Assuming you didn’t steal it, it must of cost you a nice penny.”
Theo remained calm and uneffusive.
Capstone applied more pressure. “I hear your girl’s pregnant. You gonna need money for the baby.”
Theo felt a knot in his stomach.
Capstone’s teeth were clenched and his nose crinkled. There had been a crimp in his velvet earnings. “You been stealing from me, pretty boy?”
“No, Cappie. I wouldn’t do that.”
Capstone gave his head a quarter turn, then drew his right arm back and hit Theo in the jaw. Theo grabbed his jaw with his left hand, and Capstone kneed him in the groin. Theo fell to the floor. Capstone walked over to his desk and picked up his pistol. He returned to Theo and said, “Open up, pretty boy.”
With his eyes closed, Theo shook his head sideways in protest. Capstone struck Theo on the right temple with the butt of the pistol and shouted, “I said open your mouth!”
Capstone shoved the gun in Theo’s mouth. “Now, you wanna tell me the truth.”
Theo mumbled as best he could with the pistol in his mouth. Capstone said, “Speak up, pretty boy. Papa can’t hear you.”
As he straightened Theo’s jacket, he ordered two of his bookies to fill a large barrel with water. Looking at Theo, Capstone said, “Come here, pretty boy.”
Theo’s feet were anchored to the floor.
Capstone nodded in the direction of two men; they forced Theo from his mooring and dragged him to Capstone. “You know what this is?”
