The Devil Take the Blues--Chapter 25

Chapter 25

Tim

Dust we are and to dust we return.

“Hello ma’am, mighty fine day, isn’t it?” I stood before the ramshackle house of a dirty-faced woman with a passel of brats running in and out of the house, probably as louse-ridden as the dog had fleas. She squinted at me in the bright sunlight. The smell of bacon grease drifted out from her kitchen.

“Look, I’ll get straight to it. Can I count on your support this coming election for preserve the white race and to rid this town of crime and vice?” I handed her a flyer.

“Cain’t read,” the woman replied.

I stuffed the flyer in my pocket hastily. “Right. Sorry.”

The radio was playing in the background. It was some jitter-bug song, something that sounded as if it had come from Charbonneau’s joint. He thought he was so slick, hauling liquor in and out, well, he would get his.?

?

“Anybody here want to try my cabbage

Just step this way

Anybody here like to buy good cabbage

Just holler "Hey"

“Freddy! Turn that down, I said!” The woman had dark gaps in her mouth, and her ugly tongue kept poking through.

“Aw, ma, it’s fun to dance to!” The little children continued to dance and sing along with the words.

“Gave some to the jailer who turned the key on me

When I got through feeding him he said, "Gal, you're free"

Anybody here want to try my cabbage

Just step this way.”

“See, ma’am? It’s music like this that is corrupting our precious children.” Surely, even this woman could see that?

The witch that haunted Hansel and Gretel leaned against the doorway. “Look, mister, as long as it keeps them out of my hair, I don’t care what the hell they listen to. Now, what is it you want? You looking for money, or somethin’?”

Truly, I was scraping the bottom of the barrel. “Well, with your generous support, I can guarantee you that I’ll rid this town of—”

“No, thank you.” The woman shut the door in my face.

Right. Well. Couldn’t expect some river trash to pitch in more than a nickel. I would get the votes I needed. I would be mayor of this town, then who knew, one day, I could be senator, just like Dixon, he said that he had connections, he said that the Invisible Empire was everywhere. I just needed to keep going.?

I went to the next house. Knocked on a door that looked about as worn and run-down as the last. A man opened it, a young-looking fellow. Surely this man would have more sense than an addle-brained woman.?

“What’cha want?” A brown glob of tobacco nearly hit my new leather shoes.

“Sir, I won’t take up too much of your valuable time.” I took off my hat and held it to my chest. “Now, I know you’re a God-fearing, redblooded American, such as myself. I know that you’ve about had it with the crime and vice in the city. Can I count on your support come election time?”

“Sure. Why the hell not?”

Perfect.

“Then can I also ask you to make a one-time donation of five dollars, which will go to—”

“Five dollars!” The man laughed. “I done spent that last night at the joint. You know they got them race records going on? My girl likes to go up there.”

I twisted his hat in his hands. “But you’ll vote for Tim Stevenson, right?”

“Sure, sure. Five dollars. Hey, Candy! Can you believe this guy?” The man turned back toward Tim. “You have a nice day, hear?” He shut the door with a chuckle.

Goddammit! Was there no one in this town with a lick of sense, except me? And what about these people listening to race records, going up to the joint every Saturday and blowing their money??

I walked on, the sun burning the back of my neck. I would need to work twice as hard, that was it. I just needed to recruit more people into the empire. I had been falling behind lately, what with the meetings, the walking to people’s houses, the begging for votes. But did I really need the support of these people? This was what I wanted to rule over? Some tiny, backwoods town with no more glamor than a two-dollar whore??

I crumpled one of my flyers in my fist. Yes. The world was changing. Women were beginning to wear pants, smoking, and cussing. The Negro was quitting his work in the fields and moving up north.

Well, let them go, let them leave like rats jumping ship. It wouldn’t be enough. It would never be enough, not until I ruled the entire world. I might not ever get there, but I would fight until my dying breath to rise above the muck and poverty. I would rule the town by fear; that’s what anyone responded to. People didn’t need the niceties and coddling of the damn republicans; they needed a Southern king. In the army, with bullets whizzing by him and bombs exploding, that was what anyone understood. It was what anyone ever understood. It was why I loved donning the costume, mounting on my horse and chasing the niggers through the forest. They understood fear. I would never feel afraid again, not ever, not from when I was a child, and he put his hands—

I needed a drink. Badly. The bubbles were beginning on the sides of my eyes. If I didn’t get some juice in me, they would return. They weren’t ghosts. Just the blues. I was half-tempted to go on up to Charbonneau’s, since I knew he had liquor, the bastard, but the thought of one more dollar in his pocket made my chest burn.?

Christ Almighty, how am I supposed to win over the people, preaching against the damn Negro music, if that’s what anyone ever listens to! And Charbonneau’s stealing my money, taking it from the pockets of the townsfolk and lining his own getting plenty rich off the coloreds they flock to him like he’s Jesus himself wanting to record their sheep-bleating they called music it’s not music it’s trash garbage, no structure wild, unsophisticated, jungle sounds and everyone and their mama knows Charbonneau is making serious dough, don’t know how he convinced Beau, probably paid him off, I’ll just pay him more, damn money rolling off him, from the clothes he wore to the car he drove, and Beatrice was becoming mighty comfortable with it all too. Beatrice. Just wants to take Agnes away from me, always trying to pull Agnes away from me, into this or that, trying to monopolize her time. Agnes is my wife, mine she is mine, and it will always be that way…

…need a drink. I swear I’ll kill Charbonneau just go home be with Agnes Agnes Agnes, needs to keep her damn mouth shut, keep herself to herself, I know she’s fucking Bobby Clemons from church, or someone, can’t be nothing—

wasn’t my fault, she asked for it, begged for it, couldn’t say no, all the better, Agnes has been a frigid bitch shouldn’t think that but what if she doesn’t give me a son, but timing isn’t right hope that bitch doesn’t open her fat trap or ask for money but Frank there’s something going on, I just know it something between Agnes and fucking Charbonneau been acting sneaky lately, trying to pretend that nothing was going on Frank trying to steal my woman, isn’t satisfied with one Corbin sister, not satisfied with stealing my money, my votes, my town, gotta think of something to bring him down will ask Beau tonight…

*

“Here is it,” I said, turning up the volume on the radio.

“…trust Tim Stevenson in the capital. He’s got a plan to make America the shining beacon of glory it once was. He’ll clean the streets of liquor, Mexicans, Catholics, and Negroes alike. Tim Stevenson for Mayor of Azoma. Endorsed by the noble Knights of the Invisible Empire,” said the radio announcer.

I turned to Agnes, Beau and his wife.? My head was threatening to split like a ripe watermelon, but I managed to smile. “What do you think?”

Agnes fanned herself. “It’s a good advertisement,” she said. “You’re sure to win, honey.”

She had organized this little get-together in a hurry. I knew she was just doing it because she felt sorry she ruined my shirt. That still didn’t make her any less clumsy, but at least I had a reason to ask Beau for—. I blinked.

Oh no.

He was here again.

That little boy. That little boy who kept staring at me, the one who stood at the end of my bed at night, the one who puts his dirty hands on my mouth, my chest.

I rubbed my eyes. My skin itched something fierce. I scratched myself. Didn’t do any good cuz I had bitten my nails clean off.

“Agnes, Violet be the special darlings that you are, and go on out,” I said. “It’s time for the men to have their cigars.”

The little boy stood by my elbow. “Blue devil blues,” he said.

“Get out,” I told him.

Agnes glanced sharply at me, hurt. “Of course,” she murmured.

I didn’t mean her. As both women rose, we men did as well and waited until they walked to the drawing room and pulled the door closed behind them.

Beau continued to ramble.

My head pounded like that ugly fucker from Greek mythology was pounding his hammer directly into my skull. Once when I was in France, I had to jump into a pond to avoid getting caught by the Germans. I had stayed underwater and drew air through a reed. It was so hard just taking that tiny bit of air that I thought about giving up and taking a big ol breath of water just to end it. My chest felt just like that.

Then the little boy came over. No, not that. Anything but that. Beau was still chawin’ on some story, but I couldn’t hear him. That little tiny, dirty-faced brat stood right by my elbow.

Then he started stroking me. I never knew how he did it. How he could stand there, with his hands by his sides and stroke my member at the same time. I hated it. I loved it. I wanted more. I loathed every single instant. More. Don’t.

“Stop!”

Beau clamped off the end of his yarn. “What’cha saying now?”

“I mean, you gotta stop being so soft on these Negroes. You know they’re scheming in that joint of theirs.” I swallowed. He still stroked me. I crossed my legs. “Say, you don’t happen to have a nip in your flask, do you? I’d be much obliged if you did.”

Beau gave me a look longer than my swollen cock. “Liquor’s tight right now. But yes. You don’t look so good.”

I wiped my forehead. “Just too damn hot in here.”

He poured a swallow into my glass. I knocked it back then extended my glass to him. God, the world was right again. The little boy was gone. “Only reason you’re even Sheriff is because of me, and you know it,” I said.

He poured a finger’s worth more. “As I was sayin.’ You’re going to have to do more than sell pins and pillowcases. That’ll please the ragamuffins, but you have to do something to get the attention of the big boys in the capital. Do something that will make them notice.”

I took a slow sip of whiskey. How had something ever tasted this good? Ice clinked in his glass. He, like myself, was one of the few people who could afford an icebox in this town.

“What were you thinking?”

Beau handed him a flyer and smacked it with his fingers.

“Based on very reliable sources—”

“Johnny,” I said. “You know, we need to reward him. He’s been bringing in lots of folks for the empire. Lining both our pockets nicely. Could be you might bring him on as deputy Sheriff.” My skin no longer itched so damn bad.

Beauregard scratched his whiskers. “Could use an extra pair of hands…sure. Why not?” He eased back in his chair. “Now: Your brother-in-law is the main supplier of liquor in this area,” Beau continued. “You know that run down ol’ plantation near the riverside? Between the graveyard and the cliffs. Bought it off me for far more than it was worth. I turned a blind eye to his parties, cause he always pays me nicely. Now don’t you look at me like that, money is money. Don’t care where it comes from. You know I use the money from the recruits to build houses for the poor in this town. That’s all I care about—improving this town and keeping it safe.

Anyway, you bust up this place while the band is in town, and that seat is as good as yours. Them boys on the council will even have someone sit in it to keep it warm for you when you arrive.”

“Why won’t you be there?”

“Cause I got somethin’ on the judge that’ll make your head spin. I gotta keep my nose clean until then.”

I stared at the flyer. From the corner of my eye, I thought I saw a shadow slip under the door, but as I did not want to pay any mind to skulking figures of darkness, I ignored it. “This that joint off the road, damn near in the woods?”

“The very same. ‘Sides,” he continued, staring at me. “He got more liquor than God. Don’t know where he gets it. And it ain’t that bathtub trash. It makes this stuff seem like varnish.”?

“Good as done. Damn reggins getting too high-siddity. You know one of them had the audacity to mention they were going to vote?”

“Got good music, though.”

He shrugged when I looked at him. “You know how much poon I get with them race records?”

*

Frank

The next morning, I was awakened by a rapping at the door. I threw on the first clothes my fingers touched and walked down the staircase. From the look of the dirty dishes in the kitchen sink, I took it that Beatrice was already at her store. When I opened it, I was pleasantly surprised to see Agnes standing at the threshold, but something seemed distinctly off about her. Maybe it was the cheap makeup adorning her lips or the way she carried her nicest shawl around her shoulders.

“Agnes,” I greeted. “Come in. I must warn you, though, that I have to leave soon, for I have a recording session with someone who might not amount to much, but he’s got a sound that grabs you. I fear that he and I don’t see eye to eye philosophically.” I leaned closer to her and caught the scent of dime-store perfume. The aroma itself was enticing but the energy beneath it was putrid. Intentions seeped into everything. “Preachers. He swears he hates secular music, but I’ve my ways of persuasion, Edward House. I’ll record a few songs, see where it goes.”

Agnes stepped across the threshold.

“I was wondering…if you could use some company,” said Agnes, stepping closer to me.

“It’s funny you should ask. All my life, I’ve been in search of company.” I smiled. Pretended to not know what she insinuated. I crossed the living room and plucked up my harmonica. “But with this…I feel as though I have all the company in the world.” I blew into the metal spaces, evoking beauty from wind. I paused. “And your sister.”

“But music can’t warm you. Can’t tell you how handsome you look.” Agnes stalked over to me. Gently reached her hand toward the harmonica. Slowly, she grasped it, her hand lingering for just a second longer than necessary.

Such a surge of love and pity for this woman. I once called her sister, and indeed she was. “Agnes,” I said, making my voice feather-soft. “What you seek, you will not find here. In the brief time that I’ve known Beatrice, I’ve come to love her more than I thought I would love anyone.” I reached out to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear. She flinched. Without intent, without thought. Pure reaction.

“Agnes, why don’t you leave?” I spoke quietly.

“You’re right. I should not have come. I don’t know why I did. Foolish of me. Just as I always am.” Hot tears scalded her eyes. She began walking toward the door.

But I stopped her with a hand on her shoulder.

Without meaning to, Agnes jumped and wrenched around.

“I don’t mean leave this house. Why don’t you leave him?”

The air shifted around us. Light filled Agnes’ eyes.?

“I can’t.”

“You can.”

“You make it sound so simple. ‘Just leave.’ But I can’t leave. Not when I love Tim. I love him. Do you hear me? I love him. And he loves me. I can’t leave him. Not when he supports me, when I support him.” She shook her head and wiped her lipstick off with a corner of her towel. “Foolish. That’s all I am. I thought I wanted to leave, but I don’t. I don’t care what he does to me. I just want gentleness. Kindness. I took a vow, and I will not break it.”

“And fidelity? What of that vow?”

Agnes lowered her eyes, wrapped her shawl tighter around her.?

“I saw Tim with another woman,” she whispered. “I brought him some lunch to him at his office. It was such a small thing. He placed his hand on her wrist.” She slowly closed her eyes. “I did not see him in the act of carnality, but I know. How he looked at her.”

“Agnes,” I said. “There are some things that I cannot tell you. But I can say that you deserve to be happy. To live without fear.”

“I am happy.”

“It is not quite so apparent as you would have it seem.”

“I just wanted gentleness. For a few minutes. That’s all I wanted.” She touched the center of her chest, as though trying to stop a dam from breaking. “Tim is planning on raiding your joint,” she blurted.

“When?”

“Tonight. Supposedly, he wants to rid the town of liquor. That’ll be the reason he uses. But…” Agnes need not say more. I could not tell her that I already knew, but my response did not change.

“I’ve never bowed to fear. Nor will I be controlled.” I brought the harmonica to my mouth and rubbed it against my lips, relishing the cool, slippery metal. “You put yourself at risk by telling me. Thank you.” I turned, grabbed a small briefcase and slipped the harmonica into my pocket. “The joint will remain open. People of all ages have wanted to destroy beauty. If they come in search of liquor, they’ll find none.” I kissed her on the forehead and escorted us out the door.

Her time approached, and grief trampled me with hooves of iron.?

*

“You’re coming to the joint, tonight, right?”

“Why are you so insistent?”

“Tonight…will be special.”

“What’ll be special about it?”

“There will be…a very gripping show.”