Shadows of St. Louis (3 page)

Cherubic Charles

Charles paced the sitting room intermittently biting his fist then punching it into his other hand.

"I just don't understand why you won't tell me who did this?" he asked, taking a moment to pause his pacing. "I swear to God I'll rip his head off with my bare hands."

Emma Lynn knew for certain he would make good on his threats. That's why she couldn't possibly tell him who it was. Frank's father was running for mayor and he could make things very difficult for the
Goodwins
’ business.

"Charles, if she doesn't want to tell you she's not going to. You know
good
and well she can be just as stubborn as either one of us," Rebecca Jane said as she continued to clean Emma Lynn's face with a cool rag.

With his mop of golden curls and his cherubic features, people often mistook Charles Goodwin for a weak, innocent child. Ever since the age of thirteen, he took great lengths to disprove those opinions by living dangerously and taking more and more risks. Now at age twenty, he stayed out all hours of the night and performed any sort of daredevil stunt that caught his fancy. He never backed down from a fight. Often, he went in search of a dangerous encounter as if he had something to prove to the world. Only around his sister and Emma Lynn did he reveal his true soft, sweet nature.

Silent tears fell from her eyes as Emma Lynn thought about the time when Mr. and Mrs. Goodwin locked her in the cellar for two days after she accidentally broke one of Mary Anna's many porcelain dolls. They thought by depriving her completely for a while she would learn to be more careful with possessions. Rebecca Jane was away at finishing school so, during that time, Charles took it upon himself to sneak her food and provide her company. She was so grateful for the companionship of Charles and Rebecca Jane over the years. She didn't know what her life would be like without them.

"Oh, dear, I've gotten blood on your dress," Emma Lynn said, feeling guilty for ruining such a precious gift. "I knew I didn't deserve it."

"Hush,
Em
, don't worry about that right now.
Just rest."
Rebecca Jane tucked Emma Lynn's hair behind her ear and tried to soothe her to sleep.

Lying on the sofa, she drifted in and out of a fitful slumber. Each time she breathed in too deeply, a pain in her chest woke her and made her groan in agony.

"Well, what did she expect? She can't prance around wearing white women's clothing." She heard Mrs. Goodwin's voice fill the room a little while later. Emma Lynn hadn’t even heard her enter the room. She hoped there were no customers in the confectionary, as only a wall separated the sitting room from the street front shop. "I'm surprised Frank didn't do more damage to her."

"Frank? Frank Gibson?" Rebecca Jane asked, bolting upright from the sofa.

Emma Lynn kept her eyes shut and feigned sleep. She wanted to see where the conversation went. She wondered if Charles and Rebecca Jane would change their opinion on the situation once they knew the whole story. Would they stand up for her even against someone as powerful and influential as Rebecca Jane's suitor?

"Yes, Frank. She didn't tell you what happened? According to Mrs. Brockway it was all Emma Lynn's doing."

"I'll kill him," Charles exclaimed. She heard his footsteps head toward the door.

"I'll help!" Rebecca Jane added, following her brother.

"You will do no such thing. It wasn't his fault. He thought he was kissing Rebecca Jane. I can't imagine the poor boy's embarrassment when he saw his mistake."

"He kissed her thinking it was me? Well that makes perfect sense. He is a moron," Rebecca Jane said with conviction.

"She should not have been wearing your dress in public. She tricked him," Mrs. Goodwin said.

"She did no such thing and you know it Mother. He had no right to attack her in such a barbaric manner. He may have fractured her ribs." Rebecca Jane was near tears.

"We really should get her to a hospital, Mother. She looks rather ill," Charles said.

"She's fine. Just a little stunned is all. It's about time Emma Lynn learned her place in society. We've been codling her for too long. Do you think it's going to be any easier for her out there when she leaves us?"

Charles and Rebecca Jane were silent.

"Now, take her to the cellar and put her in appropriate clothing. She can have the rest of the day off. But you two come right back here. Charles, I'm going to need you to run the shop and Rebecca Jane, you need to help me prepare a celebration for Mary Anna's return."

"Mary Anna's return?
Why on Earth do we need to do anything for Mary Anna's return? She's been on a honeymoon for five months. I think that's celebration enough."

"Oh, Rebecca Jane.
There can never be enough celebration of the miracle that someone actually married that whiney, sour-faced, gold-digging —"

"Charles!" Mrs. Goodwin interrupted. "I will not have you speak of your sister that way."

"Really, Mother?
How ironic," Rebecca Jane said.

Emma Lynn didn't understand the irony of the comment. She guessed it had something to do with the fact that no one really liked Mary Anna. Everyone just tolerated her.

Mrs. Goodwin chose to ignore Rebecca Jane's retort and said, "We're having a reception for her Saturday evening at the
Grande
Hotel."

"Saturday evening? But that's Emma Lynn's birthday. Rebecca Jane and I had plans," Charles said.

"Well, not anymore," Mrs. Goodwin said coldly. "I'll expect her to help with the serving."

"I hate you and I hate what you've done to her," Rebecca Jane screamed at her mother before storming off toward the cellar.

Seconds later, Emma Lynn felt Charles pick her up and cradle her in his arms. He kissed her forehead and whispered, "Don't worry,
Emmie
, we'll make sure you have a birthday you'll never forget."

Surging Emotions

It had been over a week since Henry let himself admit he was in love with Emma Lynn. Before then he had gone through a month of denial, telling himself that he couldn't possibly be in love with a Negro. She was just someone nice to talk to that happened to read as much as he did and have the same taste in literature. Before the denial stage he'd been through two weeks of anger in which he secretly blamed her for being so attractive and seducing him. And just before fully admitting his feelings, he had finished twelve days of self-loathing in which he constantly chastised himself for being so stupid as to love someone he couldn't love. The only thing that brought him out of that phase was seeing her face every morning. Just the sight of her made everything else melt away, including his brain most of the time. He never knew what to say and was positive he sounded like a complete imbecile each time he opened his mouth in front of her.

It was completely imbecilic that it had taken three days to figure out a way to see her at a time other than five o'clock in the morning.

He paced the busy street where Goodwin's Confectionary was located while he composed the perfect string of words to say to her. He forgot his hat that morning and had just returned to retrieve it.
Simple.
Yet it had taken him three days to actually leave the hat.

Passing the shop's door for the fifth time, he noticed the white's only signs on the neighboring stores. The hardware store, the drugstore, the furniture store, the barber, every store except the Goodwin's only allowed whites. He'd never noticed that before.

Henry watched as a trolley car came to a stop at the corner. A white family boarded then moments later two Negro girls were escorted off. There must have not been enough room. He wondered if that had ever happened to Emma Lynn. He'd never thought about that before either.

Maybe he should just give up this ridiculous notion. Where did he think this was headed? They could never be together. Not in East St. Louis anyway. He wondered if she'd ever thought about leaving East St. Louis. That could be the second question he asked her.
After he inquired about his hat.

Henry adjusted his suspenders and tried to slick his blond hair down with a little spit on the palm of his hand. Then he took a deep breath and walked into the
Goodwins
’ store.

"How can I help you, Henry?" Charles Goodwin asked from behind the counter. Where was Emma Lynn?

"Uh
… "
He hadn't considered this possibility. Emma Lynn always ran the store during the summer. He was just supposed to walk in, say he forgot his hat, she'd go get it, and then offer him something to drink, and then they'd be able to talk for at least an hour before he had to be home for supper. He thought they could discuss his poems. Surely she had read them by now. And if she'd gotten to the third one, then she must know how he felt about her.

He had it all worked out. It was simple.
Except she wasn't there.
Charles was.

Henry craned his neck to see if maybe Emma Lynn was in the back, but he didn't see her anywhere. Now what would he do?

"Uh
… "
He couldn't think of a single thing to say. Maybe he should buy some candy. He patted his pockets and realized he didn't have a cent on him. "Uh … um … I … " Henry reached for his hat. He always twisted his hat in his hands when he was nervous. Then he remembered. "My hat," he blurted. "I left my hat here this morning."

"Really," Charles said, looking around the shop. "I haven't seen it."

"It's in the back.
In the kitchen.
Em
… Emma Lynn should know where it is. Is … is she here? I mean, I just need my hat."

"She's not … available right now. I'll try to find it for you." He started toward the kitchen.

"Is she all right?" Henry asked before thinking. He shouldn't be inquiring after a Negro. It was improper.

"She's just not feeling well," Charles said after giving him a confused look. "I'll get your hat."

"No," Henry said quickly, too quickly. "If it's all the same, I'll just wait until tomorrow to retrieve it. Will she be able to collect the milk in the morning?"

Charles lips slowly curved into a smile. It was a dashing smile that Henry often heard ladies gossiping about when he made his deliveries. No wonder all the eligible women in East St. Louis were after him. It was amazing he was still unattached at twenty years old. What if he was in love with Emma Lynn and that's why he wasn't married? They lived in the same house. They could easily have a clandestine romance. Henry didn't know how any man could live so close to Emma Lynn and not desire her. A wave of jealousy surged in his stomach. He swallowed hard and tried to purge the thought.  He was being ridiculous.

"I think she'll be available in the morning," he said still smiling. "I'll make sure to tell her you were here … just to collect your hat, of course."

"Thank you." Henry gave a slight nod of the head and turned to exit the shop.

"Henry," Charles called before he left. "We're having a reception for Mary Anne Saturday night at the
Grande
Hotel. Emma Lynn will be there. Why don't you come as well?"

"As a guest?"

"Yes, as a guest," he said after chuckling.

"Sure, that'll be
swell
!"