Echoes of a Distant Summer (32 page)

Jack came up from behind and clubbed his brother to the floor. “What the hell are you doing? Do you want to start a war?” There seemed to be no limit to LaValle’s idiocy. Jack knelt to check Tree’s injury, but the blood was pulsing out at such a rate that he could not discern just how serious the injury was. Jack gave orders that towels should be brought to staunch the flow of blood from Tree’s face and neck, and that a long folding table should be brought to carry Tree into the back.

There was a smell of fear in the room. People realized that they had witnessed something that might jeopardize their lives. If Tree died from LaValle’s savage attack, the Trees would have to respond in kind and they would probably brutalize witnesses for information and as punishment for patronizing a Tremain-owned establishment.

As LaValle was helped to his feet, he shouted at his brother, “You giving him all the attention! What about me? He cut me for no reason! Don’t you care about that?”

Jack stood up and turned to face his brother, who was looking at him
with accusing eyes. Jack walked over to LaValle and hissed through tense lips, “I don’t want to hear your whining shit! You brought all of this on yourself!” Jack stood up and said loudly, “Doke, I need someone to take LaValle to Doc Wilburn’s. We’ll let whoever’s already been called attend to Tree in the back. And let’s get this floor cleaned up.” He also directed that security should staff the rear entrance to the lounge to close that off as well. Jack was now marshaling the area and policing the cleanup. He looked at Eartha, who was standing behind the bar. She looked shaken. Jack went up to her and put his arm around her. “You all right?” he inquired. The question was rhetorical; he could tell by her expression that she was unnerved. She was not used to violence.

She nodded her head to indicate that she was fine, then pressed her face into his shoulder. They stood together silently while the activity continued on around them for several minutes. Finally, she pushed away from him to study his expression. The curls of her pixie haircut outlining the smooth, dark brown skin of her face, and her large, brown eyes glistening with tears staring up into his affected him. It made him want to protect her and shelter her from the harsh ways of the business. The reality was that she wanted more than mere protection, she wanted freedom from the anxiety of late-night calls, freedom from the rigors of wrapping bloody wounds. She wanted to escape the smell of cordite forever. Jack had already agreed to give her what she wanted.

“It’s all right, honey. It’s over,” he said as he sought to calm her down, but his words had a programmed, automatic quality which glanced off her.

“I thought I was going to have to watch you blow the top of that man’s head off! I never want to have a memory of you killing anybody!” Tears streamed down her face. “I couldn’t stand it if I saw someone hold a gun to your head like you did to that man!”

“I know, honey. I know,” he said soothingly. “Next week, we’ll be headed to Texas and I’ll be finished with the business.”

“I wish it was tonight,” she said with tearful sincerity.

“It’s over now, honey. Why don’t you go home. I’ll be there as soon as I’ve closed up here.”

Doke caught Jack’s eye and interrupted their discussion. “If I send someone to take LaValle to the doctor, I’ll have to take someone out of one of the back rooms. Oh, by the way,” Doke dropped his voice and leaned forward, “several people asked if they could leave.”

Jack tapped his head with an open hand. “Should have thought of that.” He paused and thought for a moment. “Tell them, sure. Just make sure we get some contact information from them; verify it with ID. Tell anyone who wants to stay that drinks are on the house till we open up again.”

Eartha pulled on his sleeve. “I can drop LaValle by Dr. Wilburn’s. I’d like to get out of here anyway.”

“Are you sure you’re up to it, honey?”

“Yeah, I’ve phoned Lisette and told her to meet him at Doc Wilburn’s. I’ll just stay until she comes.” She took a deep breath and gave him a weak smile. It was a sincere but feeble attempt to put on a game face. It made Jack laugh. He pulled his wife to him and hugged her tight.

She put her hands on his cheek and said, “I love you, but I’m afraid of all of this. I’m afraid of losing you. If only we could go away and leave all this tonight.”

“Don’t worry, Eartha,” Jack assured her. “Nobody’s going to take me away from you. My dad and I have just a few things to wrap up before I go.”

“No more guns, please,” she begged.

Doke gestured to Jack across the bar. “Young Dr. Broadhead is here.”

“Have him look at Tree,” Jack suggested. “We’ll take LaValle to old Doc Wilburn. The old guy is better at sewing up cuts and slashes.”

Doke nodded and made his way back through the crowd to the rear of the bar. People had come out of the gaming rooms and were talking with others who had been in the bar during the altercation. They moved respectfully out of Jack and Eartha’s way as the couple walked to the front door of the lounge. Eartha had parked the car on Fillmore. Jack asked her to pull the car around back to the alley entrance of the building. He gave her a final hug and assisted her in buttoning her coat. She kissed his hand and he kissed hers in return. “Don’t worry, honey,” Jack said, studying her face as he unlocked the door. “I’m not going to let things get out of hand again like they did tonight. This is the last time. Just drop that stupid brother of mine off at Wilburn’s and I’ll see you at the house.”

Eartha nodded and squeezed his hand and walked out the door. Her heart was pounding in her chest. She felt a strange, nervous energy, as if she had somehow been connected with the flickering neon signs that
gave the Fillmore corridor its night colors. Everything seemed to have an unusual clarity and brightness. The sounds of car horns and shouted conversations lanced through her consciousness. Even her four-door sedan, which reflected the distorted, surreal shapes of passing traffic, seemed unusually shiny. She turned on the ignition and as she pulled out into traffic, she wondered why she could not quell the fear within her. She exerted all her effort to breathe calmly.

LaValle and the waitress, Verna, got into the backseat when Eartha pulled up to the rear entrance. LaValle lay back in the seat and Verna held a towel to his face.

Although Eartha did not like LaValle, she felt that she should at least advise Verna of a potentially awkward situation. “Excuse me, Verna,” Eartha began gingerly. “I thought you should know that Val’s wife is going to meet him at the doctor’s.”

“Who called her, you?” Verna’s voice was hard and brassy.

“I did what family is supposed to do,” Eartha answered, feeling strangely defensive.

“Well, honey,” Verna said snidely, “are you going to hold the towel to his head
and
drive? Do you want blood all over your upholstery?”

“I just thought you should know. I was just trying to be polite,” Eartha explained.

“You done your duty, thanks.”

They drove on in silence. The night was clear and stars could still be seen even against the brightness of the city lights. Eartha headed west on Fell Street, intending to follow the panhandle of Golden Gate Park to Lincoln. It was a fifteen-minute ride to the doctor’s. Dr. Wilburn maintained an all-night office for particular clients that was located on the edge of the Westlake District. His clients paid him well and he returned the favor by providing first-class medical services in a discreet setting. Eartha heard a sound of scuffling in the rear seat. She heard LaValle say, “Get off me, woman!” Then she saw his head, swathed in towels, briefly in her rearview mirror.

“Where are we?” LaValle asked, peering through an opening in the towel.

“We’re crossing Divisadero on Fell Street, heading for the panhandle,” Eartha answered, happy to concentrate on something neutral like geographical locations.

LaValle directed, “Turn right on Divisadero.”

“That’s not the way to Doc Wilburn’s,” she protested.

“I don’t care. I told you to turn! Now, turn!” LaValle’s tone was filled with impatience.

“I’m not chauffeuring you around,” Eartha answered evenly. “I’m only going to drive to the doctor’s office, then I’m finished. Your wife will meet you there. You can get her to drive you anywhere you want.” She wasn’t generally so uncooperative, but LaValle had made several passes at her before and after she was married. The last time he had been particularly aggressive, but fortunately for her King had walked in while she was fighting him off. She didn’t know what transpired after she left the room, but LaValle never bothered her again.

LaValle declared, “I need something to drink bad! Just drive me by Mike’s Liquor on the corner of Golden Gate and Baker.”

Eartha knew that Mike’s was a place where the crowd was cruder and the honesty of the house was on a much lower scale than that of the Blue Mirror. Knifings and shootings were common in and around Mike’s. It was not a place that Eartha would have ever chosen to go, yet her loyalty to her husband, who loved his brother, caused her to attempt to be generous. “If we go by Mike’s, I’m not waiting if you’re inside longer than five minutes.” If LaValle didn’t care about his injury being treated immediately, that was his responsibility.

“Damn! Aren’t you a little dictator!” LaValle said sarcastically. “Give me a break. I may need ten minutes.”

“I’m waiting five minutes!” Eartha responded, wishing that she hadn’t volunteered to take LaValle anywhere.

“Okay, okay. You win.” LaValle agreed with obvious distaste. He was offended that Eartha would even attempt to enforce some time limit on him. Once inside of Mike’s he would stretch it. He knew that she was not likely to drive off without him.

Mike’s was a two-story brick building located one block off Divisadero. The liquor store took up the whole ground floor. The gaming rooms were reached by a door to an enclosed stairway on the side of the building. As per usual, until closing time, there were a number of colored men loitering around the entrance. When LaValle exited the car after Eartha parked in front, there were several exclamations from the men as they recognized him. LaValle didn’t go into the liquor store. He went straight to the side door. Even with the windows up, the loitering men could be heard talking about LaValle. Verna rolled down her window and called one of the men over.

“What’s going on, Chet?” she asked.

“That you, Verna?” the man inquired as he came up to the car.

“It’s me, Chet,” Verna confirmed. “What’s all the yammering about?”

“Ain’t you heard?” Chet asked incredulously.

Verna was impatient. “Heard what? If I’d heard, I wouldn’t be wasting my time with your sorry ass!”

“If’en it was me, I wouldn’t be riding around with LaValle Tremain jes’ right about now.” Chet mouthed his words as if they were unusually profound.

“Goddamn it, Chet. I’ve been good to you, loaned you money and given you free drinks. If this is the way you’re going to repay my—”

Chet interrupted her. “You ain’t got to get all mad and everything. I’ll tell you what’s happening. Two of the Tree brothers came by here twenty minutes ago, looking for LaValle. Ben Tree, he say that LaValle snuck out of his gambling joint owing big money. And the word on the street is when Ben’s wife tried to stop him from leaving, LaValle cold-cocked her. Ben say that when he find him, he gon’ let his blood flow. And he offered five hundred dollars for anybody who knows where LaValle is.” This last sentence was said in a manner that implied that lots of people were interested in collecting the reward.

“Thanks, Chet. I owe you.” Verna rolled up her window and got her bag. “Damn! LaValle’s been a busy little beaver tonight!”

“Are you going to go in and warn LaValle?” Eartha asked Verna. The fear was back. She could feel it in her chest.

“I bet somebody here’s already on the phone to the Trees. This is where I get out, honey,” Verna retorted in her cold, professional voice. “He’s cute and I like him, but I’m not dying for him or with him!”

Eartha was shocked. “You’ve got to go in and warn LaValle,” she urged. “Is this all that friendship means to you?”

“He ain’t my friend,” Verna snapped. “If he was my friend, he would have treated me better. And for that matter, he ain’t your friend either. If you had any brains at all, you’d be driving out of here right now. That fool has started a war!”

“I can’t leave Val,” Eartha answered. “He’s family. His brother would never forgive me.”

“You probably right,” Verna acknowledged as she opened the car door. “But that’s your problem, not mine. Val had plenty chances to make me family and he didn’t. I’m out of here!” She got out and slammed the car door shut. The men around the liquor store made several crude comments about her body and what they would do to it if
given the chance. The men didn’t bother Verna. She was used to attracting male attention. She knew how to deal with it. But she was bothered by Eartha’s words. In fact, Verna felt guilty. She briefly considered going in and warning LaValle until she saw a large, late-model car pull up across the street and turn off its lights. The men in its interior did not get out. They were waiting. She figured there must have been a stampede to collect the reward when LaValle appeared at Mike’s. Verna’s survival mechanism kicked into high gear and she stepped on down the street without looking back.

LaValle came out several minutes later with a bottle of scotch in his hand. He opened the back door and got in. “Where’s Verna?” he asked.

“She left when she found out that the Tree brothers are looking for you for beating up Ben’s wife.” Eartha was barely able to force the words out. She felt soiled by his presence. She had no doubt that LaValle had punched someone’s wife. She started the car and pulled out of her parking space. Unseen by Eartha, the large, late-model car followed her car into the crosstown traffic.

“Oh, you heard about that, huh?” LaValle asked, taking a long drink out of the bottle of scotch. He belched and said, “Ain’t no big thing. She liked it.”

Suddenly, her heart began to pound so loudly that she scarcely thought she could hear. There appeared to be no level to which her brother-in-law would not sink. She turned off Portola onto a small street that wound above St. Francis Woods and led eventually to Ocean Avenue. It was then that she noticed that they were being followed. For the first time, she was frightened for herself. If indeed the car behind her was following her, it was because of LaValle. If she was found with him, she would receive a fate similar to his. The thought caused chills to run up and down her spine. She resolved in that moment that she would not let herself be forced off the road and under no circumstances would she stop. Eartha pressed down on the gas and felt the big Packard reassuringly surge forward.