Dark Corner (7 page)

The delicious aroma of eggs, hash browns, sizzling meat,
and coffee wafted through the air.

Every customer there was a regular, mostly men, who
breakfasted there so often the waitresses didn't need to ask
what they were ordering, because they always requested the
same meal. One of the waitresses on duty, a busty woman
named Gloria, brushed past Franklin balancing three plates
in her hands. "Scrambleds and ham coming right up, sugar,"
she said to him, and winked.

Franklin looked for a seat. Typically, he liked to eat with a
different person each time he visited. Everyone had a
unique, fascinating story to tell, and all of it was a piece of
town history, in one way or another. He had become an expert on the history of Mason's Corner, not from reading
books, but from talking to a vast array of people.

He spotted Van Jackson, the police chief, in a corner
booth, sipping coffee and reading the paper.

"Mind if I sit with you a spell, Chief?" Franklin said.

"Sure, Doc. Have a seat"

Van Jackson had been the police chief for eleven years.
Before him, his father had been the chief. Balding and in his
forties, Jackson had a long face that always seemed to be
stretched into a sad expression, as if he had recently received
bad news. Some of the folks called him "Sad" Jackson. He
was a somber man, but he had a sharp mind. Franklin enjoyed talking to him.

Gloria slapped down a glass of orange juice in front of
Franklin, then refreshed Jackson's coffee. Jackson folded his
paper.

"How are things?" Franklin said.

Jackson added cream to his coffee. "Things are things,
Doc. Ain't nothing much happening here. The usual mess."

"I have a new neighbor," Franklin said. "David Hunter.
He moved into his father's house"

"Is that so?" Jackson raised his eyebrows. "Knew Hunter
had a boy, but I ain't never seen him. Moved into his family's
place, did he?"

"He arrived yesterday. He's a nice young man, friendly."

"Wife, kids?"

"He's a bachelor."

"Oh, Lord. Ruby's gonna hound him to death. She's a
sweetheart"

Van Jackson's wife had died of cancer two years ago,
leaving him to raise his teenage son by himself. Ruby, convinced that a single man was a dead loss in the kitchen, had
constantly nagged Jackson about joining them for dinner.
Jackson had accepted her offer a handful of times, but he
didn't need Ruby to cook for him anymore. Word was that
the chief was dating Belinda Moss, the town librarian.

"I'll stop by to say hello to the Hunter boy," Jackson said.
"He's the kid of the only celebrity this town's ever had.
Reckon that merits a welcoming party from the chief."

"That would be good of you," Franklin said. A minute
later, Gloria appeared and placed a plate heaped with scrambled eggs, country ham, hash browns, and buttermilk biscuits in front of Franklin. Franklin began to butter a biscuit.

"The Hunter boy ain't the only new resident we have,"
Jackson said. He sipped his coffee. "Someone's moved into
the Mason place."

Franklin dropped his butter knife. It clanged against the
plate.

"Yeah, I 'bout spilled my coffee when Wilson told me,"
Jackson said.

Roseber Wilson was a real estate agent who handled
transactions for most of the properties in town, including
Jubilee, the Mason estate.

"Who moved there?" Franklin picked up his knife again.

"Black man with a funny accent, Wilson said. Sounded
like he was from France. Can you imagine that? Ain't never heard a black man with a French accent, though I know we
got black folk over there"

"Have you seen this Frenchman?"

"Seen him driving around. Got one of them big Lexus
SUVs. I ain't talked to him, though, or seen anyone with
him."

"Odd" Franklin dug into his eggs. "I wonder why he
chose the Mason place."

"He ain't buying it, Wilson said. Said he was only gonna
rent it for a few months. He was real secretive, wouldn't tell
Wilson much about his business."

"Strange, indeed," Franklin said. "Renting an enormous,
dilapidated property like that for only a few months. I wonder if this fellow is aware of Jubilee's reputation."

Jackson shrugged. He looked out the plate-glass window.
He glanced at Franklin and nodded, indicating that Franklin
should check outside.

Across the street, a silver Lexus sport utility parked in front
of the hardware store. A broad-shouldered, dark-skinned
man with a shiny bald head climbed out of the vehicle. He
was sharply dressed in a gray suit. He strode purposefully
into the store.

Franklin frowned. Hearing this news about the Mason place
and seeing the mysterious new resident made him uneasy,
though he could not place his finger on why. Maybe because
it didn't make sense. A foreigner renting an antebellum mansion in rural Mississippi? Either he was planning to refurbish the place and turn it into a tour destination, or he was up
to something he had no business doing.

I should not leap to such conclusions, Franklin admonished himself. The fellow could be an upstanding gentleman
with a legitimate interest in the property and the town. He
was allowing small-town xenophobia to color his thoughts.

However, Van Jackson was frowning, too.

"Excuse me, Doc," Jackson said. He put on his hat. "I've fiddled away enough of the town's money this morning. Got
to get back to work"

"See you around, Chief." Franklin watched him leave. He
noticed that the chief kept his attention riveted on the hardware store across the street.

Franklin could not help himself. The chief was suspicious. Now, so was he.

What was the man doing at the Mason place?

At one o'clock sharp, David parked in front of MacDaddy's
Barbecue. As he climbed out of the Pathfinder, a green Honda
Civic pulled into the parking spot near him. Nia stepped out.

"Right on time," she said.

She had changed into a pink blouse, khaki shorts, and
sandals. She had let down her hair, too. It flowed to her
shoulders in curly waves.

"My father was right," David said. "You are the prettiest
girl in town"

She smiled. He opened the restaurant's glass door for her,
and they went inside.

It was a small, neat place, with lots of windows. From the
size of the take-out counter it appeared that they did a lot of
carry-out business, but there were tables spaced throughout
the dining area. The mouthwatering aroma of barbecue
spiced the air.

The restaurant was busy. People were lined up at the
carry-out counter, and all the tables except one were full.
David and Nia grabbed the only vacant table, in the corner.

David picked up the single-page menus that lay nestled
between the salt-and-pepper shakers.

"I already know what I'm going to eat," she said. "The
catfish sandwich is delicious. I grew up on them"

"Then I'll get the same," he said.

A waitress came to take their orders. They asked for the catfish sandwiches, and sweet tea. The server returned
quickly with the drinks.

As they sipped tea, their gazes met. They watched each
other for a long, quiet moment, a pleasant tingling building in
David's stomach.

He felt as though he were in a movie, one of those sappy
romantic comedies like Sleepless in Seattle. He had never had
an experience like this with a woman, and it frightened and
thrilled him all at once.

Then, at the same time, they smiled-in unspoken acknowledgment of the rare chemistry that coursed between
them like electrical current.

"So," Nia said. "You were going to tell me why you moved
to Mason's Corner."

He put down the glass of tea. "Well, it's because of my father. I mentioned before that I never knew him that well. I
decided to come here and get to know him, I guess. By living in the same house and being in the town where he spent
so much of his life, I'm hoping to .. ." He made a grasping
motion with his hand, straining to find the right words to express himself.

"Understand him?" she said.

"That's part of it. Understand him-and understand myself. Because I'm his son, I think I've picked up certain
habits, talents, and quirks from my dad. For example, he
used to drink strong, black coffee, never adding sugar or
cream. When I was a kid, I used to think it was disgusting.
Now, guess how I always drink my coffee?"

"Strong, no sugar, no cream?"

He snapped his fingers. "Exactly. I never thought I'd like
coffee that way, but it's the only way I like to drink it now.
And there're a bunch of other things I think I've picked up
from my father, subconsciously. I'll never learn everything
about him, but if I can just learn more ... it's important to
me, Nia. I can't explain it any other way."

"I understand what you mean," she said. "I really admire
you for having the self-awareness and the guts to come here
and sort of absorb yourself in his life. That says a lot about
you"

"I didn't have anything pinning me down in Atlanta. My
mom and my sister live there, but they're doing fine. I'm
self-employed and can do my work from anywhere. If there
was ever a time to do some exploring, this is it."

"What kind of work do you do?"

"I design Web sites. I majored in computer science at
Georgia Tech, then worked for a few years at a technology
consulting firm, but corporate America wasn't for me. I
started my business two years ago and haven't looked back.
What do you do?"

"I have a graphic design company. Run it out of my
house"

"So you own a business, too? That's cool. How long have
you been doing it?"

"For almost a year," she said. "I went to Jackson State on
a track scholarship, ran track on the pro circuit for a minute
after I graduated, then injured my knee and had to retire. I
taught high school for a little while, first in Houston, then
here, then took the plunge and started my own company.
And I haven't looked back, either." She smiled.

He smiled, too, genuinely impressed. "That's too bad that
you had to quit running track. But you've definitely kept
yourself in great shape"

"Thanks, I run and work out just about every day. But I
don't miss track competition that much. I love being my own
boss, building something of my own from the ground up. I
know you understand what I'm saying."

"Oh, yeah, I hear ya. People are surprised when they find
out that I'm not a writer, though. They always expect me to
follow in my dad's footsteps"

"Do you plan to write, someday?"

He laughed. "Are you kidding? I love to read, but I can't write worth a lick. That's definitely something that I did not
inherit from my dad"

The waitress delivered their meals: catfish sandwiches,
with coleslaw and french fries on the side. Before leaving,
the waitress peered closely at David.

"You any kin to Richard Hunter?" she said in a thick
Mississippi accent.

"He was my father."

"Willie, I told you!" she shouted at someone behind the
counter. "This here's the Hunter boy!"

David blushed. People turned to look his way. Many of
them nodded and smiled, or only stared as if trying to see the
resemblance between him and his dad.

The waitress clutched his shoulder. "I was awful sorry to
hear about what happened to your daddy. I'm praying for
your family."

"Thanks," David said.

He blew out a pent-up breath when the waitress left and
people looked away.

Nia smiled, amused. "Get used to the attention, sweetie.
Your dad was the only celebrity who ever came from this
town. Everyone is gonna want to check you out"

"Seems like it." He picked up his sandwich and began to
eat. As Nia promised, it was delicious. "What was it like
growing up here?"

She popped a french fry into her mouth. "Wonderful, really. Quiet, safe. Lots of the people who live here have been
here for a long time, so mostly everyone knows one another.
It was a fun place to grow up. I have two older brothers
neither of them live here anymore-and they let me join
them on all kinds of adventures. Fishing, hunting, catching
snakes

"Snakes?"

"Sure. Not poisonous snakes, silly-though we did trap a
water moccasin once. My mama would've had a fit if she'd
known. I still haven't told her." She laughed.

"Growing up in Atlanta wasn't anything like that. The
closest I came to a snake was in the city zoo"

"There's nothing like living in the country, but I love big
cities, too"

"Why did you leave Houston to come back home?"

"I'll tell you, David, another time, I promise. It's something I don't like to talk about. I'd hate to ruin the good time
that we're having."

"Tell me whenever you're ready." We all have issues, he
thought. I'm not baggage free, either. Shoot, this move to Mason's
Corner is so I can work out my problems.

He took another bite of the sandwich. "A couple of people have mentioned the walks that my father would take
around town. Would he go anywhere in particular?"

"He walked through the park a lot, and some of the trails.
He walked Main Street all the time, too"

"He never talked to anyone while he was walking? I read
somewhere that he'd bite your head off if you said anything
to him."

"He kept to himself. I only had a real conversation with
him once, and that was in over twenty years of seeing him
around. But he'd usually say hi to me and people like Vicky
Queen-girls he thought were pretty. Your father was a
flirt. But he was charming about it, not like some nasty old
man"

"Did he have any friends here?"

She sipped her tea. "Hmm ... he'd go to church pretty
often. He went to New Life Baptist, here in town. I think he
was good friends with the senior pastor, Reverend Brown.
I've been going to the church since I was little, and I'd see
them talking sometimes."

David made a mental note. "I might visit the church tomorrow morning."