Little Girl Lost 6: The Return of Johnnie Wise (17 page)

“You just proved my point. Slavery is so deeply woven into your psyche that you would rather stay in it because the idea of slavery isn’t anathema to you. In fact, for you, slavery is the sweetest delight, and you wouldn’t give yourself permission to be free of its diabolical tentacles. And even if you did, the call of that kind of slavery would chase you down for the remainder of your life, threatening to make you one of its captives again. That’s how far gone you are. And again, you don’t even know it.”

“I’m not hurting anybody, Cassandra.”

“Really, Lucas? If you believe that, then the men who left your mother with four boys that obviously needed their fathers didn’t hurt you, your mother, or your three brothers, right? I suppose the fact that you ended up just like the man who brought you into this world, the man you say you’ve never met, means your father’s legacy, the blood that flows in your veins, didn’t hurt you either, huh? I mean, crackers with sharp knives with eyes for your privates don’t even frighten you.”

Lucas quieted himself and reflected for a few moments, trying to figure out how to respond to a woman who had clearly thought the subject through. Then, as if he had found the Holy Grail, he said, “But what if I don’t make any babies? What then? Would I still be a slave if I didn’t make any babies?”

Amazed by the level he was willing to go to justify his illicit behavior she said, “You know what, Lucas . . . I hate to say this, but you’re damaged goods.”

“Damaged goods? What do you mean by that?”

“I mean that even though you’ve never met your father, he duplicated himself in that his attitude was reborn in you, which is why I insist on calling it reproducing. How you think and consequently how you behave are evidence of this. I mean you are more like the man you’ve never met than you could possibly imagine, at least in terms of attitude, because you’re doing what he did to your mother. The fact that you have no offspring, given all the sex you’ve been having, in no way obfuscates that fundamental truth. I would bet that your Johnnie Wise is from the same sort of damaged stock, given that she was sleeping with your boss no matter what her reasons were. I feel sorry for both of you to be honest. You both returned to the cesspool that birthed you. The sad part about it is, when you’ve been in the cesspool long enough, the smell of it doesn’t even bother you anymore. You just float around amongst the defecation and the urine, which probably look like fish and other aquatic creatures in champagne. After awhile, you’ll grab a floating piece of excrement, thinking its prawn and eat it whole, and then wonder why you’re vomiting and running back and forth to the latrine. The thing boggles the mind.”

Lucas looked out the window into the dark night, searching his soul for arguments to refute her penetrating observations, but none surfaced. “You know what, Cassandra? You’re different.”

“What do you mean, ‘I’m different?’”

“I mean, you’re smart, and you know things that lots of folks never even think about. How did you end up in the Army?”

“I didn’t end up here. People without clear direction always end up someplace, usually someplace they didn’t intend to be. I chose to be here. My oldest sister was one of the Ten-percenters of the Women’s Auxiliary Army Corps stationed at Fort Des Moines, Iowa back in 1942. There were four hundred white women and forty black women. I wanted to serve my country, too, and so I joined. Simple as that.”

“I suppose you wouldn’t be interested in a guy like me, huh?”

“You mean for a husband?”

“Yeah. I don’t mean now or anything. We just met, but what if we had known each other for a few years. Would you be interested in me then?”

“I’m interested in you now, Lucas, but at the same time, I’m not interested in you now. I’m interested in you because you’re a very attractive man, and one day you’ll have lots of potential, but right now, you’re a slave. And if you can’t control yourself prior to marriage, why would I ever believe you could somehow control yourself after marriage?”

“I’d be committed to my marriage.”

She rolled her eyes and said, “Yet, you’re not committed to freedom, and you’ve already violated a marriage. Frankly, I think you’ll do it again sometime in the future because that’s who you are at this point in your life. Face it Lucas, you’ve got a lot of work to do. Maybe its providence that brought you to the Army now. Maybe you’ll learn how to control yourself. My guess is you won’t because as you said, slavery feels good. I know those weren’t your exact words, but that’s what it amounts to. And until your mind is free, you won’t have the will to be the kind of husband I need.”

Lucas raised his hand to get the waitress’s attention. When she came over, he gave her the money and the bill and told her to keep the change.

“I guess you’re ready to take me home now, huh?”

“Yeah, I start training tomorrow, and they might start early. I wanna be ready. I heard basic training can be tough. So, I wanna get as much sleep as I can. I’ve been up all night and all day.”

“So, you don’t want to see me anymore, right?”

“I’d love to see you again, Cassandra. Like I said, you’re different. We can go out again, if they let us.”

“Well, I’m an officer, and you’re an enlisted man. We’re not supposed to date, but I’d be willing to see you off post and out of uniform. You’d have to wear something like what you’re wearing now. I love the way you dress, by the way. The suit looks like it was made specifically for you.”

Lucas smiled. “It
was
made specifically for me. Me and Bubbles, the guy I reported to, had the same tailor. Well . . . if you’re ready, I’ll drop you off.”

“So, you really were involved with the mafia?”

“Yeah . . . I really was.”

It was a quiet ride back to Fort Jackson. Cassandra wondered if Lucas wasn’t talking because she had said too much in the restaurant. She really liked him, but she felt that she had offended him because she was so outspoken. When he stopped in front of her barracks, she said, “I’m sorry I offended you, Lucas.”

“It’s no problem.”

He walked her to the barracks door, but he didn’t try to kiss her. He waited until she was safely inside, and then he returned to his car and drove over to his quarters. For the next thirty minutes, he thought about Cassandra Perry and everything she said, searching his soul, while vainly trying to fend off her piercing words. He thought that if he was damaged goods as she had asserted, a woman like Cassandra would be the balm that would cure whatever ailed him.

Chapter 32

“
Ya comin’ in, little lady?”

I
t was approaching nine o’clock when the phone in Johnnie’s hotel room rang. She had been asleep for nearly five hours prior to Benny’s call. She tried to sleep again, knowing she had an early start at Lucille’s, but couldn’t. She wanted to make a good impression on her first day at her new job by being on time. Unable to sleep after lying in the bed for half an hour, she felt her stomach rumble. It demanded that she put something in it, hopefully something delicious, followed by a sweet soft drink. She remembered that Lucille’s closed at eight and that Gloria Schumacher had said that there was a restaurant up the road. She also remembered that Gloria didn’t recommend going there. She hadn’t had a meal in nearly twelve hours.

All she had to eat was her orange slices candy, a quarter pound of salted cashews, and a box of popcorn that was fresh when she bought it. At first, she was going to eat the orange slices, and if she was still hungry, she would start working on the cashews. Then, it occurred to her that she didn’t have a beverage to wash down the nuts as the salt would add to her thirst. That’s when she seriously considered disregarding Gloria’s advice about the restaurant up the road. She turned on her light and waited for her eyes to adjust to the sudden brightness. Then, she went into the bathroom and cleaned up.

She considered asking Gloria if she had anything to eat, but quickly rejected the notion, not wanting to be a bother despite her earlier offer. Gloria had done enough by letting her stay in her hotel. She thought the restaurant couldn’t be that bad, and even if it was, her stomach was in command. It was making the decision to go in there. Prior to opening her door, she pushed the curtains aside. She figured that the Clementine was filled to capacity when she saw so many parked cars. Gloria had made her two hundred dollar quota. She opened the door and walked out onto the veranda. She felt a cool breeze prick her skin and went back into her room and grabbed a sweater to keep the chill off and to help hide her large bust, sensing it could be the catalyst for any trouble she might encounter. Then, she made her way down the stairs, and then down the road to the restaurant.

From a distance, she could see a pink neon sign flashing: the flamingo den. A neon replica of the thin, long-legged, s-shaped neck birds were on both sides of the sign. The parking lot was full of trucks, cars, and a few Harley Davidson motorcycles. There were countless vehicles with licenses plates from Nashville, Philadelphia, Atlanta, Santa Barbara, Key West, Detroit, and numerous other places. She had hoped that the lateness of the hour would deter most hungry customers, but apparently lots of people were driving at night instead of stopping at a hotel. She walked past a window and looked inside. The place was packed. She was hoping to see a few black faces, so she would feel comfortable going in, but she only saw white men and women, complete with preadolescent crumb snatchers.

The Flamingo Den appeared to be a place for Country and Western lovers. She could hear Hank William’s “Your Cheatin’ Heart” as she approached the restaurant’s entrance. Apprehensive, she looked through the windows again and saw a cowboy hat or two. Again, she remembered what Gloria had told her about the restaurant. She was about to turn around and go back to the Clementine when the door of the restaurant opened.

A white man held the door open for her, tipped his hat, and said, “Ya comin’ in, little lady?” His accent was unmistakably Texan.

Chapter 33

“
I don’t need your kinda trouble.”

J
ohnnie looked at the man holding the door open for a few seconds, trying to decide what to do, watching him as he shifted a toothpick from one side of his mouth to the other. He reminded her of John Wayne who had starred in John Ford’s,
Rio Grande
. She had seen the movie when she was thirteen, and over the years, had grown quite fond of westerns. The man leaned against the door, waiting for her to accept his gracious invitation. She took him in with her eyes for a few more cautious seconds, examining his outfit, which consisted of a beige felt Stetson, a rust-colored shirt, a black leather vest, Levi Strauss jeans, and tan Lucchese boots. He was a cowboy all right, and he was a long way from home, she thought. She wanted something to eat, but at the same time, she sensed trouble.

“Go on in, little lady,” the man said with a mild Texan twang that added flavor to his rugged good-looks. “Try the chili and grilled cheese sandwiches. It’s the best thing on the menu. The chili’s kinda hot, but it sure hits the spot. If you don’t like chili, I recommend the barbecued ribs, corn on the cob, baked beans, potato rolls, and whatever cool drink you prefer to wash it all down. Whenever I roll up this way from Houston, I make sure I stop in for a bite to eat. I’ll tell you what, little lady, the smell of the potato rolls’ll have your mouth waterin’ in no time flat.”

Her stomach rumbled again. She was hungry enough to try them both, especially the potato rolls, but she wasn’t sure she should go in.

The Texan shifted the toothpick again, and then reached out and gently, yet firmly grabbed her arm. She resisted his touch, but his hands were powerful and easily overcame her defiance. “You’ll be just fine, I promise.”

She looked at his face, trying to see his eyes, believing that in them she could gauge his sincerity, but it was too dark, and the brim of the Stetson was in the way. He was tall, about six-four, and lean. He looked like he could handle himself in a fight if he had to. She decided to go in, but she was going to be cautious, knowing that at any moment, all hell could break loose. Looking at the ground, she said, “I’m very hungry. I just wanna get something to eat. If I go in, will you wait until I get my dinner, sir? I don’t want no trouble.”

“Pretty thang like you . . . sure. I’d be honored. If you want, I’ll stay in there while ya eat. Make sure nobody bothers you if you don’t mind me starin’ a bit.”