Kiss of Noir (21 page)

“From time to time, Ellis would tell me of some of your problems while you were coming up. Don’t be upset, Ellis came to me for advice about everything. We just stuck together, him and me, from when he was a boy.”

“You know his mama?”

Cleo nodded slowly, both the couple’s eyes still distant. “Yeah, I knew her.”

I liked this new feeling that we were easing down a gray smoky path going deeper and deeper into each other.

“I knew her too. She was always my sweetest auntie. She had loads of children, but just knowing her for five seconds, you knew Ellis was her king.”

Cleo closed his eyes and sighed.

“’Cause he was her firstborn, I guess.”

“That’s not why,” Cleo said, his voice sounded slow and wet.

I waited, smoking the last of my triumph cigarette.

“I’m his daddy, but he don’t know it.”

My feet dropped to the ground as I gaped at Cleo. He finally faced me with watery eyes. I had to remind myself to breathe.

“This is a story you’ve got to tell,” I whispered, scared to break the spell. I prayed the phone wouldn’t ring or a customer wouldn’t barge in on us. The pleasant men were absent and they better stay that way for a while, I vowed.

“Yessir, I got to tell it,” Cleo said, dabbing his eyes with his handkerchief.

I rolled two more cigarettes to have something to do. They remained untouched in the center of the table. I straightened the dominoes and replaced them in their scuffed box.

“Sidcoe…Sugar, I called her…y’all call her Sugar too?” Cleo asked.

“Yeah, Auntie Sugar.”

“Sugar and I were an item. I was going to marry her when I had to go away.”

“The war?” I said, just guessing.

Cleo didn’t reply to my question but said, “When I came back, Sugar was married to your Uncle Smoky and on her fifth child. So I courted her cousin Jet and found I could love her and was married happily to her till she died, God bless her. And Smoky looked something like me, dark and tall and lean with fine features. I guess Sugar liked that type, so it was never too suspicious, and we all got on fine. But she was my woman.”

“Did Smoky know?”

“No.”

“And Ellis has no idea?”

“No. And don’t help him figure it out, hear?”

“Sure. No, I mean, I won’t.”

“That’s why I stay close. To keep an eye on my boy and that grandbaby coming. It’s my only home.”

I held a hand over my heart; my eyes felt like they were bulging like hard-boiled eggs. “But doesn’t that break your heart? Aren’t you busting to tell him?”

Cleo shook his head. “Leave off talking that junk. I don’t speak that language. My life has been lived the best way I can and I get to see my boy every day. I been a part of the family. He took me in when nobody had a reason to and I’m not gonna shake things up now. Smoky was a good man.”

“But Sugar and Smoky and Jet are all dead. What would it matter?”

“Listen, I’m closer to that end than to the beginning and I guess I come from a different time. It would just hurt their memories and maybe cause pain. Why do it?”

I shook my head, uncomprehending. My heart felt big and fluttery. Cleo put his horned hand on mine. “When you’re as old as I am, think on this again. I’ll bet different things will seem important to you too.”

“Oh, Cleo!” was all I could manage. We both reached for the cigarettes and Cleo lighted them with his silver lighter. His hand didn’t shake at all.

The phone rang and Cleo smiled in such a way that I knew the dreamy secret time was over and we were in the world again.

The door pumped open and the pleasant men arrived, chatting about the approaching storm.

I answered the phone, spoke for a few minutes, and hung up.

“Hey, y’all.” Cleo greeted the men. They nodded and smiled, looking over the DVDs.

“That was Sayan. She wants us to tape the smaller windows. And she says they’re sandbagging all over town. She wants me to go home and help her move her furniture upstairs.”

“Then you do that, little brother. You helping Sayan is helping Ellis, which is helping me. So you go on. I’ll tape the windows.”

“Right on.” I stood, feeling rushed but not wanting to leave Cleo. I wanted to hug him and smell his shirt or punch him on the arm or pat his back or something. All I could do was stare at my hands. “Cleo,” I began.

Cleo stared at me, level and calm. “You go on.”

“But I just…”

“It’s time to go. You’re out of sync with the proper order of things, aren’t you? To be safe in the storm, you gotta be flexible. And if you’re not with Sayan in ten minutes, she’s the biggest storm you’ve ever seen.”

“Yeah, okay.” I gathered my tobacco pouch and hesitated at the front door where I saw now that much had occurred during our talk. Tassie’s was boarded. The streets were empty. “Cleo, I—”

Cleo cut me off by waving and walking into the back room for the rolls of tape.

As I drove home, I glanced with increasing concern at the horizon. Navy and purple clouds warned of what was coming. I had seen hurricanes on TV and never dreamed I would be a part of one. The sun was now blocked by fat cloud banks and the wind was picking up. It stirred my blood with excitement and I wanted to stand in the storm face-first to see all it had. I suspected hurricanes were like sassy femmes. They just needed sweet-talking and good loving to be gentled down.

As I neared the house, I saw the streets were being sandbagged by many volunteers. Far in the distance, I saw a line of cars heading north for higher, drier ground. I wondered what Drew, Ellis, Johnny, and Payne were doing.

When I approached the driveway, I saw Sayan standing in the middle of it with her arms crossed, tapping her foot. I debated honking at her as a joke and changed my mind when I saw Sayan’s face.

Sayan’s expression was thunderous irritation and queenly displeasure mixed with terrible worry, and as soon as I approached, it all melted into a pleasurable, relieved smile.

She needs me, I thought, astonished. I’m the Ellis substitute; not quite a man, but close enough. Good enough to take care of her and make her feel safe in the storm. Man enough to move furniture. My mouth twitched.

Sayan walked alongside the car as if escorting me to a parking place. “Thank goodness you’re here. We need to get started right now. I’ve tagged what all needs to be moved and you should start with the bigger stuff. It’s labeled where it goes, so everything is ready. When you’re finished—”

I turned off the car. “Slow down, puddin’. Let me come inside.”

Sayan pulled open the car door, grabbed my arm, and tried to lift me out. I laughed, easing myself to standing tall. “Just calm down, little mommy.”

Sayan’s eyes blazed and she pinched two fingers hard on to my ear. “What are you laughing about? Don’t you know what time it is? Get your sorry ass in the house. There is work to do.”

“Whoa, hold up.” I pried Sayan’s pincers off my throbbing ear. “Don’t treat me this way, baby.”

Sayan stepped back, putting her fists on her ample and outraged hips. “What? I do not believe what I am hearing. Don’t treat you like what, a lazy good-for-nothing, too stupid to know when a disaster is coming, or don’t treat you like the ignint child you
are
? Which is it? Or both? Oh, Jesus, help me through this. I’ve got my hands full a work and my house full of disrespect.” Sayan entreated the darkening skies. She put a finger in my face, her neck going Cobra on me again. “Nora, I swear, you better do me right today or I’ll put you out. I will! I’ll set all your shit right out in the ’cane and not look back, you hear?”

I tried to back away but was trapped by the car. “Cleo warned me,” I muttered, wondering how to solve this.

Sayan heard. “Cleo…Cleo
warned
you? Warned you about me when I am just doing my level best to get through this in one piece and keep our home safe and our things protected and me and my baby secure and the shop dry and Ellis and Cleo and you alive!” Sayan’s voice cracked. “And all Ellis had worked for.” Sayan took a gasping sob. “And our future—” Sayan collapsed on the ground, crying. I knelt beside her, realizing I shouldn’t have poked a pregnant tigress.

“Easy, easy, baby, I’m sorry,” I murmured over and over until Sayan leaned on me and cried herself out. The wind blew leaves and trash in torrents over us. I lifted Sayan and we walked into the house with our arms around each other. I was docile and obedient for the rest of the day. And amid all the TVs blaring the dire forecasts, Sayan worked me like a pack mule.

Late in the afternoon, I was sweating and panting, and stood before the television as the weatherman announced that the hurricane had been downgraded to a tropical storm. Extreme caution was still advised and preparations for flooding and wind damage were still recommended. Evacuation was voluntary.

Sayan called out from the kitchen where she was preparing supper. “You finished?”

“I need a break, Sayan,” I said.

“All right, but no smoking.”

I trudged into the kitchen ripe with cooking aromas that made me sick with envy to smell. How I would love to have a wife taking care of the vitals: cooking in our kitchen, spoiling, pampering, and petting me. I sat across from Sayan. Me, having nothing to do, drummed my fingers on the table under Sayan’s stern glare. “Where’s Ellis?”

“Taking care of business, I’m sure.” Sayan looked at the clock. “That should be him now.”

As if synchronized, Ellis voice called out, “That smells so good. Where’s my baby?” The door closed and Ellis stood in his fedora, big as life, smiling at Sayan, who ran into his arms. He rocked her for a few moments. They murmured to each other. I studied my fingernails.

When there was no sign of change, I stood up. “Well, I’ll just…”

Ellis rested his chin on Sayan’s head and grinned at me. “She been slave driving?”

“No, not too bad.” I wanted to wink at Sayan, but Sayan’s face remained on Ellis’s chest.

“Well, I’ve got a situation to discuss with you,” Ellis said to me. “Come outside?”

Sayan jerked away from Ellis. “I know what that means. Trouble. Don’t go hiding your tribulations from your
wife
, Ellis Abraham Delaney.”

Ellis kissed Sayan’s forehead and stroked her back. “No such thing, baby. It’s only a small something I want Nora to handle just so she knows how in case she decides to expand our business someday.”

Sayan pressed her hands against Ellis’s chest to look up and study his face. “And why can’t that happen in here with me?”

Ellis sighed as if he were drawing on vast supplies of patience for a beloved child. “You know Nora needs to smoke. You probably haven’t let her eat or use the bathroom all day.”

“Mmm-hmm,” Sayan grunted, unsure but deciding to concede. “I expect you both on time at the table for supper.”

Ellis looked at his watch and nodded. “What are we having?”

“Your favorite, baby.” Sayan snuggled against him again.

“Pot roast, mudfish étouffée, and pie!” Ellis licked his lips. “You can do no wrong, Sayan.”

“You either, baby.” Sayan seemed to melt and I saw, just for a moment, the tender soft side Sayan concealed behind her fireball exterior. Without warning, I got images of Sayan’s lovemaking, hot, intense, and oh, so feminine. I rattled my head, disgusted with my involuntary fantasy. I didn’t desire Sayan at all; Sayan was my sister and I felt about her that way. But I was jealous of Ellis and his cozy home life and beautiful, passionate wife. I needed to go to the Sayan store, I thought, wondering where and when that might be. Or I just needed to get laid.

“C’mon.” Ellis left his hat on a peg by the door and went to the backyard. I started to follow, fumbling for my tobacco and matches.

“Be careful out there. Storm is still coming,” Sayan snapped.

“Yes, ma’am,” I answered, meek with desire for a woman of my own to boss me, worry about me, tend me, and mend me.

Sayan brushed my shoulder as she passed by, hot pads in hand. “You’re not so bad, are you?” she said to the pot roast as she checked on it.

Belatedly, I realized Sayan was addressing me and I said, “No, ma’am,” and followed Ellis outside.

Ellis stood, hands in pockets, his clothes whipping like flags in the wind. Once I was next to him, we both squinted into the gale as we watched trash cans and lawn furniture of Ellis’s wealthy neighbors get tossed.

“Aren’t you nervous?” I asked, putting a cigarette in my mouth but realizing it would be futile to light up. I desperately pulled air through the cigarette, trying not to swallow too much loose tobacco but getting a faint satisfying taste. Sayan, with her comfortable domesticity and love like a sun, made me go limp with longing and ravenous for cigarettes.

“Gimme one, will ya?” Ellis asked.

I glanced back at the house and held my pouch out to Ellis. “Hambone, you don’t smoke.”

“So don’t worry about it.” Ellis tipped his head at me, his caramel eyes meeting mine. He shook his head and looked off in the distance. “Love lies.”

I knew instantly what Ellis was telling me. Love lies, the rationalized justifiable fabrications told to women to protect them from harm and hurt. I had never been much of a liar myself because I had too many women to keep track of to risk complications of that magnitude. But I knew many who did lie out of love and I understood it. I held my cigarette pinched between forefinger and thumb. “What fibs you been telling, Ham?”