Tishomingo Blues Part 17

"It's none of my business," Walter said. "What I'm concerned with is bringing off this event, making it work. How many you think we'll have altogether, counting women, children and dogs?"

"Our first muster?" John Rau said. "I'm hoping for as many as four hundred. Maybe fifty or so women and children dressed the part. Half-dressed anyway, little boys running around in kepis. I'm afraid the majority of the reenactors though will be UOs."

This was one Charlie hadn't heard of. "What're UOs?"

"Unorganized Others. We'll a.s.sign them regiments, so when you're telling the crowd who's who out in the field, they'll be accounted for. We'll do that Sat.u.r.day morning." Walter said, "How do we handle farbs?"

"With patience," John Rau said. "All we can do is point out the error of their ways. And I will be wearing longjohns, Walter." He looked at his watch saying, "I have to go," but lingered to mention the Porta-Johns were coming Friday afternoon, food vendors Sat.u.r.day morning. Moving toward the ladder he said something about a sutler's store, drums and bugles ... Walter behind him saying he'd wait for the crew coming to stake out the areas where the camps, the civilian tents and stores would set up, something about parking across the road ... Charlie waited for them to go down the rickety ladder ahead of him.

Out in the barn lot John Rau was looking up at the weathered side of the old barn saying, "We'll have a banner up there, 'First Annual Tunica Muster' and so on." He turned to the farmhouse rotting away across the yard. "I wish we didn't have that eyesore." Walter said he'd have his crew clean up around it. Charlie said, "I'll see you," and walked over to his Cadillac. By the time he'd turned out of the barn lot and was heading west on the county road, he saw in his mirror John Rau's maroon Buick Regal swing out of the lot behind him. Charlie was coming onto 61 when he saw a car approaching, a black one as it whipped past him and then past John Rau in the mirror, a black Jaguar-Robert Taylor heading toward the site. Robert saw one car in the lot, some kind of big SUV, and Kirkbride shielding his eyes from the sun with his hand, watching him drive in. Robert got out and walked toward him noticing the man hadn't dyed his beard.

"Mr. Kirkbride, how you doing? I called your office, the young lady said you were out here." The man stood there squinting in the sun.

"Hot enough for you?" Robert giving him white talk. "I sure hope it lets up some by the weekend. I was wondering, it rains, we postpone the battle or what?"

"It rained the entire week leading up to Brice's," Kirkbride said. "You don't mind getting wet, do you?"

Giving him some hardcore reenactor s.h.i.t without answering the question. Robert said, "No, I like to get wet," and heard the rest of it, you dumb tuck, in his head. "I been out driving around the area, see what's over the other side of the woods. Not much, a farm road . . . "

"The levee road," Kirkbride said. "There's canebrakes back there, cottonwood and willow oak. It's too bad we have to keep the battle out in the open. I think it would be interesting, at least for the reenactors, to put on a fight in the woods."

Robert said, "They any snakes back there?"

"Cottonmouth's the poisonous one to look out for, the one you see the most of. The worst things are the ticks and the red bugs."

Robert said, "Ticks and red bugs."

"And mosquitoes," Kirkbride said. "Did you know Field Marshal Erwin Rommel, the Desert Fox, came here and studied this battle? Impressed by the way Old Bedford put it to the Yankees?"

"Yeah, I read that. But I wondered did either of 'em know Hannibal pulled the same kind of s.h.i.t on the Romans back in the B.C.S. Jammed 'em in a pincer move till they were stumbling all over each other. With their spears and s.h.i.t."

It didn't look as if Kirkbride knew it either, standing there squinting at him. He said, "I've got a crew coming."

Making it sound like reinforcements.

Robert wasn't sure what he meant and said, "I got one coming, too. Or I should say my buddy General Grant has, since we gonna be fighting against each other."

"I mean this afternoon," Kirkbride said, and looked toward the road. "They'll stake out the Union and Confederate camps and what'll be in other areas."

"Arlen coming?"

Kirkbride said, "I understand you two have met," still not answering questions. "He tell you?"

"I believe was Charlie Hoke mentioned it."

"Yeah, I met Arlen the first time with Charlie and the diver, where they're staying. Then I brought General Grant out to Junebug's to meet him. He didn't tell you about it?"

"Why would he?"

"You know the man's a criminal to look at him, huh?"

Kirkbride only stared, not biting on that one, or interested in who General Grant was. So Robert said, "I know it's hard to tell, gangstas down here not looking much like gangstas in the movies. You know what I'm saying? Your gangstas all have that Jimmy Dean country way about them." Robert zinged one in now saying, "I asked Arlen were you in business with him. He tried not to say but told me yeah, you were, whether he knows it or not." Robert paused to see what that would get him. Nothing. He said, "Mr. Kirkbride, am I going too fast for you?" The man said, "Maybe if you told me what the h.e.l.l you're talking about-"

"The drug business. All that s.h.i.t you move through Junebug's into the countryside. You the drug czar of Tunica County, man. What surprises me is n.o.body seems to know it." Now the man took his time, not saying s.h.i.t as he walked toward him, Robert believing the man was thinking if he should explode with some Southron indignation. Like, did he know who he was speaking to? No, the man walked up till they were looking each other in the eye, the man doing all right so far, the way he was handling it.

Robert said, "You haven't dyed your beard."

And that threw him off some.

He regrouped and said, "No, I haven't, and I don't intend to."

"You playing Forrest, aren't you?"

"Yes, I am. But I don't want to dye my beard, so I'm not gonna dye it." Going with a tone of voice that was straight on, like he was his own man and had nothing to hide. He said, "You talked to Arlen about me, and you think you found out something?" Like what would Arlen know.

"Ain't he head of your security?"

"That's all he is."

"I asked him did he want to sell any your materials, supplies, out the back door."

"My security man."

"That's the one you see. 'Specially one that makes a living as a criminal. Yeah, I believe he was ready to do business," Robert said, "but I was jes' messing with his head. See, I already knew he had Junebug do Floyd and then did Junebug himself or had somebody else do him, the consensus leaning toward the one you all call the Fish. See, Arlen knows I'm not gonna say nothing about it or use it on him, hold him up with it. I don't do that."

Kirkbride, eye to eye, said, "What makes you think he's involved?"

"Come on, man, everybody knows it. The CIB man knows it. He'd be deep into the case, hounding Arlen, it wasn't for the reenactment. Listen, by now he'd have talked to the hotel help and all the guests still around, check on anybody might've been looking out the window besides me. You realize I jes' missed seeing it by a minute or two? But we talking about John Rau now, the man so deep into this Civil War gig coming up he's already living it, can't wait. I bet you anything you want he wears his longjohns. He won't even cut the legs off. I'm told you can do that in the summer, it's okay. But to John Rau, man, that would be edging toward farbness. After, though, I expect he'll be back on the job. That is, if Arlen's still around." Kirkbride jumped on it. "Still around-where else would he be?"

"I mean if he's still alive," Robert said. "Arlen has the kind of personality, there must be people would like to shoot him. You know what I'm saying?"

It wasn't a question the man was likely to answer, but Robert saw him looking at it.

"The point I'm making, Mr. Kirkbride, everybody knows he did Floyd and everybody knows he deals drugs. You go out to his store, that honkytonk, and buy all you want."

"You been there, huh?"

Why did that stop him?

"Haven't you?"

"Not in a while."

"What I'm thinking," Robert said, "it must be easy to deal here. Pay off whoever you have to and go about your business. But it can't be easy for Arlen Novis 'cause Arlen's a nitwit, and that makes him dangerous. Somebody's directing him, else he'd be living high, driving around the country in a Rolls-Royce, have all kinds of federal people checking him out. He'd hide the money someplace, like under his bed."

He had Kirkbride listening, paying close attention, the man appearing almost to nod his head in agreement.

"See, first I ask myself, why would you hire a man everybody knows is a criminal to run your security? It must be you don't have nothing to say about it. Like Arlen's got some kind of hold on you. Stays close by so he can keep an eye on you. You're the front, you're-" Robert stopped, a lyric coming into his head, and he said it again, "You're the front ... you're the Colosseum. You're the front, you're the Louvre Museum."

Robert kept his expression deadpan.

Now he had the man staring at him, mouth not quite open but almost. Robert believed he could f.u.c.k him up some more, tell Mr. Kirkbride he was the Nile, the Tower of Pisa. He was the smile, on the Mona Lisa Mona Lisa.

But the man still wouldn't get it.

So he said, "What you do is hide the money for him. Put it to work." He said, "I'm telling you this for two reasons. One, so you'll know I know what you're doing. And two, so you'll be ready to make a decision when the time comes."

The man was doing all right, listening and keeping himself in control. He said, "You want to tell me what you're talking about?"

"Look at it," Robert said, "like you're coming to a crossroads and you know you have to make a turn. You don't decide quick enough, what happens? You end up in the ditch." Robert stepped to his car and opened the door. "I have to make a decision about what?" The man wanting an answer. Robert turned to him.

'Where you want to be," Robert said, "when Arlen goes down."

17.

AS SOON AS ROBERT GOT BACK to his suite he called room service and asked for Xavier. He waited, punched the remote to turn the TV on and said, "My man Xavier. to his suite he called room service and asked for Xavier. He waited, punched the remote to turn the TV on and said, "My man Xavier. Dos margaritas Dos margaritas. Ten dollars for every minute you get 'em here under fifteen. You sabe sabe what I'm saying? ... Then go." He laid a fifty-dollar bill on the table and took a quick shower. Robert came out in the hotel robe to see two margaritas on the table and the fifty gone. Robert had Xavier going through his Basics with incentives, getting the waiter in the right frame of mind to deliver meals from the hotel to the campsite. There was no way they'd get Anne to cook. She had never in her life slept in a tent and knew she'd hate it. Jerry told her she was gonna sleep in the f.u.c.kin tent, so forget it. Robert didn't believe in sleeping in tents either; he believed people who camped out must be as serious as people who put on uniforms and became Civil War soldiers, and here these people were doing both. what I'm saying? ... Then go." He laid a fifty-dollar bill on the table and took a quick shower. Robert came out in the hotel robe to see two margaritas on the table and the fifty gone. Robert had Xavier going through his Basics with incentives, getting the waiter in the right frame of mind to deliver meals from the hotel to the campsite. There was no way they'd get Anne to cook. She had never in her life slept in a tent and knew she'd hate it. Jerry told her she was gonna sleep in the f.u.c.kin tent, so forget it. Robert didn't believe in sleeping in tents either; he believed people who camped out must be as serious as people who put on uniforms and became Civil War soldiers, and here these people were doing both.

He watched TV as he called Jerry's suite, knowing Anne would pick up.

"I have two ice-cold margaritas sitting here."

"He's taking a nap."

"I thought he was going down to roll the dice."

"He changed his mind. He'd rather play at night."

"Wake him up. Tell him that Australian, the one f.u.c.ks with poisonous snakes, is on TV Jerry likes that show."

"You ever wake him up?"

"Doesn't like it, huh?"

"Even when he wakes up himself, in the morning? You can't talk to him for a couple of hours."

"I'll come by later."

He watched the Aussie f.u.c.kin with the poisonous snake, his chin down on the ground talking to it in a nice tone of voice, the snake hissing, the snake trying to tell the man, get the f.u.c.k away from me, fool.

Robert could picture Anne right now looking down at Jerry sleeping with his mouth open, zoo noises coming from him, Anne wondering if what she got out of being his wife was worth it. Jerry had picked her out of an auto show, Anne on the carousel with a car she said was all new from its high-concept styling to its heart-stopping performance, Anne dealing out adjectives with a dreamy smile. Robert was there. He watched Jerry walk up and ask the standard question auto show models got a hundred times a night, "Do you come with the car?" He did, and she said, "You can't afford me, with or without the car." She told Robert, after Jerry had put her into a high-rise on the Detroit River, "You're supposed to smile and act coy, but I knew this guy was real and I made the first move to get him. I thought he looked like a gangster." Robert said to her that time, "Not many girls wish for a gangster and get one. You challenged the man and he stepped up."

Even dumped his wife, left her behind with three kids in college. It cost him, but must've been worth it. Germano attentive at first, acting like he was in love. Was he still in love? It was hard to tell with a gangster. Robert believed he loved her the way he loved a pair of good-looking alligator shoes he'd never let go of. Anne said, "Of course he loves me, don't you?" Saying it with the same high opinion of herself she had when she told Jerry he couldn't afford her, even though her modeling career hadn't left Detroit and there she was working an auto show. Robert admired girls who were determined and worked hard on getting what they wanted. It didn't take nothing but a look to get her to slide over.

Anne's situation, once she had it, she didn't want it. But couldn't walk out on account of the prenuptial agreement gave her zero if she left during the first five years. But Jerry's personality was even more threatening than the agreement. Would he let her walk even if she decided to?

They were kidding around one time and she said to Robert, "But when Jerry dies, like if he got popped? Which could happen, right? That's different, I get what I deserve." Robert thinking that was a funny way to put it. She mentioned it another time in bed saying, "I worry about Jerry getting popped." Robert thinking, Women that worry about it don't say it that way. Robert having heard a number of women, not even counting his mother, express this kind of worry about him but using much softer words.

Still another time after being intimate and still bare naked, when she talked the most, Anne said, "Robert, I'm gonna be honest with you. If something happens to Jerry and we can be together? I won't ever marry you."

Like he'd ask her.

"How come?"

"I wouldn't be able to handle the racial thing." Robert gave her his puzzled look that time.

"Why? I can take you to black clubs, n.o.body'll say nothing. You'll be safe." She said, "I don't mean that that."

See, she didn't get it.

Anne had style and was mostly with it, but not all the way on the same level of cool as he was. Those three-quarters of white girl in her held her back. Like being seen out in public with him would jeopardize her having pa.s.sed. It was the reason she told Dennis she wasn't into having kids. Careful not to. A child with black features was to emerge, Jerry would throw both of them out on the street. Her dressing as a quadroon wh.o.r.e for the reenactment wasn't a risk. Robert saw it as showing off for him, something between them, no chance of Jerry catching on. Robert told her one time, "You want Jerry to let you go? Tell him your grandma was high yella." She told him he wasn't funny.

He wasn't trying to be. Robert looked at situations straight on, didn't color them in his mind or change his personality to meet the occasion. He liked to look around, believed he could get something going with Carla, but would have to meet her in New York. Carla, without you realizing it, would run you like a company and you wouldn't own yourself no more. He liked to grade women, see how they'd measure up as wives, but without seeing any need to ever marry. He didn't need kids. He was still a Young Boy.

Robert punched his way through channels with the remote and came to a movie he liked and could see anytime, All That jazz All That jazz, a behind-the-scenes movie, Robert's favorite kind, this one taking you backstage to show what putting on a musical was like, Roy Scheider playing the ch.o.r.eographer based on Bob Fosse, Roy smoking all the way through the picture, smoking while a doctor examines him, has a heart attack and the cute nurse is in bed with him in the hospital, the man living every minute of his life till the way he's living kills him. Beautiful. Watching the movie Robert twisted one to smoke along with Roy, and somewhere before it ended he fell asleep.

When he opened his eyes he clicked the set off, he sat low in the chair staring at the dark screen, staring for maybe a minute before he reached for the phone and called the hotel operator.

"Helene, how you doing? You know the number for Junebug's? I don't have a phone book, somebody stole it." He said, "I'd appreciate it, dear, thank you." He waited ten rings before a voice came on. "Wesley, how you doing? Listen, this is Robert. Is Walter Kirkbride there? ... Well, can you take a peek, see if his car's in back?"

"He don't use his car," Wesley said, "he uses one of Arlen's."

"I forgot. Wesley, is it Traci he sees or the other one?"

"I think Traci. Yeah, the little bitty one."

"You see Walter, tell him I called, okay?"

Wesley said, "Who's this again?"

At nine, Robert got dressed and stepped two doors down the hall to Jerry's suite. Anne let him in and went in the bedroom. Jerry was standing in front of the TV watching a baseball game. He turned the set off saying, "Braves and the Cards-who gives a s.h.i.t." Robert said, "I talked to Kirkbride. Told him we know what he's doing."

"You're sure about this?"

"Five to one I'm right."

"You told him-what'd he say?"

"Nothing. But he listened. You know what I'm saying? The man listened to every word. Took it in. Almost seemed to nod his head like he was saying yeah, that's how it works." Jerry had his hand on the doork.n.o.b.

"Can we use him?"

"Have to wait and see."