Kiss of Noir (26 page)

“Yeah, okay. But can’t you show me something flashy?”

“Sure. Do what I say.” I tossed Ellis the ball. “Pass to me.” The ball hit me in the mouth. “Jesus Christ! Are you retarded?” I tasted blood on my lips.

“Shit, I’m sorry, Nora.” Ellis tried to stifle his chuckles. “Are you okay? Let me see.”

I waved him away. “Let’s you and me lie down here a minute.” I stretched out on the sun-warm driveway. Ellis joined me, his knees up.

“Can you pass me the flask without blacking my eye?” I asked. We each had a swallow and lay quiet.

After a few minutes, Ellis asked, “Is this part of the training?”

I ignored him, wiggling my front tooth. “This is loose! You broke my tooth and now I’m going to have to get a gold one and you’re going to pay for it.”

“Yeah, sure, whatever. I’ve got a box of gold teeth at the pawn shop that no one came back to get after they pawned them. Take your pick. Just show me some moves so I can smoke those turkeys!”

“Ellis, believe me, you will be awful. I’ll do what I can, but you gotta recognize.”

“No, Nora, I gotta be smooth. Sayan will be watching and there’s our entire family to impress.”

“Ellis, you’ll just have to settle for being rich and successful with a beautiful wife, a son on the way, and a lovely home.”

Ellis sighed, petulant and fidgety. But I felt just right. Quiet and still inside and floating on a little buzz.

“Hey,” I said, “let’s talk.”

Wind blew over us, making me close my eyes and smile. I could smell Sayan’s gardenia shrub, the bougainvillea and wisteria that wrestled each other up the trellis that was mounted on the east side of the house and was so thick with bees that to stand next to it, I would always fall into a trance.

“What do you want to talk about?” Ellis’s voice was sulky.

“Julia. Cleo.”

“Let’s not.” Ellis let out a heavy sigh.

“No, man, I need to.”

“When are you gonna get rid of those sorry tattoos and those raggedy pirate earrings?”

“It will be
after
we talk. Have you heard anything from the police?”

“No. They’re investigating all the leads they have. They’ll let us know.”

“What about the pawn?”

“Drew is running it. I may have to hire,” he answered carefully. “You know if you hadn’t been wasted and in New Orleans, you would’ve found all this out at Cleo’s funeral reception.”

“It’s not hurting you any to tell me now. What about Julia?”

“Disappeared. I think her husband hopes she’s dead. He paid me in full.”

“You saw him?”

“Yeah, I went over there with tapes, receipts, records, and a gun, everything I could think of. But when he saw me, he just went to the safe and got the money. Turns out he’s been visited by many unsavory associates of Julia’s that he just pays off.”

“Good going, cuz.”

“But it didn’t save Cleo. You’re sure she did it too, aren’t you?” Ellis asked.

“Yeah, but Cleo said she didn’t,” I said.

“But it doesn’t matter when she’s gone.”

“What proof do you have?”

Ellis lifted his shoulder. “Don’t worry about it.”

“Ellis, don’t do anything stupid.”

“Now who are you to tell me that, killer?”

I stopped breathing.

“She told me. She was hoping for…oh, who knows what. She was desperate. You know what else she said?”

My breath was stuck in my throat.

“She said, ‘Ellis Delaney, I like to gamble and I like to fuck. Don’t get in my way.’” Ellis laughed ruefully. “Poor Cleo.”

“You know I loved Cleo and wish he were alive. But he had a long life. So better him than you. Neither Cleo nor I could live with ourselves if you’d been killed.”

Ellis cleared his throat. We didn’t look at each other.

“It was Johnny, you know,” Ellis said casually.

I raised on my elbow. “The hell you say! I’ll never believe that weenie would have the balls to kill anybody.”

Ellis laughed. “T-Bone, it don’t take no
cojones
to pull a trigger. And the district attorney called me in as a potential witness in a case they’re building against him. It doesn’t look good.”

I lay down. “I still think it was Julia. She’s scarier.”

“I know that’s right.” Ellis laughed. We bumped fists.

“Boo!” Sayan called.

Ellis winked. “That’s short for booty,” he whispered to me. “Yes, sweet pepper?” he called.

“Come on in here and taste this for us, okay?”

Ellis got up with a groan and dropped the ball to me and I flinched.

“I’ll be back,” he said.

“Hey, leave that flask.” I held up my hand. I lay there, nursing the whiskey with a little bitterness that I hadn’t been invited. Eventually, I heard a rattling truck pull close and shut off with a series of coughs. The horn honked until I raised my head.

“My man! Get your wrinkled ass outta there and stop worrying my nerves.”

Drew was grinning as he approached, carrying an ancient threadbare carpetbag, his knitting bag, and a few books. He wore clean, faded overalls, a pressed white shirt, a straw boater, and freshly shined black shoes.

“C’mon down here, have a taste.” I offered the flask.

“Good to see you here, Nora. Sure is good to see you.” Drew set down his books, bags, and hat, then proceeded to lower himself to the ground with a complex series of groans and a three-point system, possibly involving invisible pulleys.

“I need a chair. I am too old for this shit.” Drew lay next to me and took a sip from the flask. “Oh, yeah, that fixes me up fine. What are you doing out here?”

“Trying to teach Ellis a little.” I spun the ball on my finger.

“Where is he?”

“In there with his Boo.”

Drew didn’t comment.

“So I hear you’re moving into the Big House? That’s something.”

Drew laughed. “Yeah. No worries. Say, when are you gonna settle down and buy a camp around here?”

My eyes opened wide to the sky. “I doubt I will, old man.”

“You’re not thinking right. Whatever’s out there cannot compare to what you got right here with the people who know you and love you anyway.”

We burst into laughter.

“Think about it. For me and Sayan and Ellis and Little Cleo.”

“Leave it be, old man.”

“Ohhhh, Nora.” Drew smacked her hip. “Just
think
about it.”

Ellis returned, licking his lips. “Mmm-mmm, I do love sweet potato pie!”

Drew sat up. “They got sweet potato pie in there? I better go on in and see what I can do.”

“No, man, nothing’s ready yet.” Ellis patted his stomach. “Y’all will just have to wait.”

“You sorry sucker.” Drew grinned. “I gotta put my bags away and everything. I’ll see y’all.” Drew climbed to standing with considerable difficulty, retrieved his things, and went into the house.

Ellis and I watched and waited, expecting him to come out at a gallop, his stuff scattering and measuring cups and spatulas raining after him. But nothing happened. We shrugged.

“So, let’s practice, huh?”

Sighing, I worked harder than I ever had before, coaching Ellis very gradually and very gently. In my career as a coach, I had always just been provided gifted and talented recruits who already knew the game, loved to play, and could handle the ball. Before now, I never realized how easy I had had it, focusing instead on how far they had to go and all their weaknesses. I wished I could pay Ellis the ultimate compliment, “You play like a girl,” but he was far from it. “You play like a white male lawyer,” maybe I could sincerely say. But Ellis didn’t have the rhythm for basketball, a fact that still astonished me. There was a heartbeat to it and you had to hear that, feel it in your blood to really understand the game.

“No, don’t jump yet; don’t do that one-handed, don’t run with the ball, don’t try to hang on the basket, and please do not try to fake me out. I can see everything you have done, can do, and will ever do,” were some of the orders I shouted as we practiced. I was drenched in sweat. Playing an actual game with a peer wasn’t this hard. When my head began throbbing and my knees started shaking, I stopped. “Let’s quit for now.” I panted.

“C’mon now, I think I’ve started to get the hang of it. I’m getting goooood.” Ellis pounded the ball out of my hand and chased it down the driveway. I shook my head and limped back to the house, cautiously entering the kitchen.

There, on a throne, was Drew, grinning like a cat in the cream, being fed tidbits and having his mouth wiped as he praised each and every treat he was offered by his personal bevy of beautiful handmaids who cooed over him and smiled into his face.

“Jesus H. Christ,” I muttered. I staggered into my room, ran a scalding bath, and afterward collapsed into a deep sleep.

The next day, the day of the big reunion, Sayan and Ellis’s home began filling with the warm chatter of family very early. I tossed and turned, burying my head in pillows. I wanted to run out and hug everyone while also wanting to hide in here all day. I felt the familiar ache of loneliness that always signaled to me that it was time to move on. Either to change homes or more likely, to dump whatever girlfriend I was with when this pain infused my soul. I realized this wasn’t my home and in spite of what everyone said, there was no place for me. Their lives were healing, knitting seamlessly together after Cleo’s death: with Drew moving in and taking over the pawn; Sayan about to have the baby; Ellis having recovered his financial loss and now looking to strengthen his contacts and improve his expensive pawn. Who was I? Nobody. A poor prideless relation sponging room and board and gumming up the works. I had to leave and make my own way again. This had been an excellent rest cure. I truly loved Sayan and Drew and adored my puppy cousin who had grown into such a wise man. I would visit, I promised myself. But now, the shame of staying on began to grow larger than the benefit. I must get my constitution together and get to steppin’.

I got up, my bones heavy and weary with sadness. When would I stop moving? When could I settle in a home, in a woman?

In the bedroom, I removed the hoops from my ears and threw them in the trash. A drunken lark I now hoped would grow over. I put a large rectangular bandage over my tattoos, not to appear more conventional for the family reunion, just to feel more myself. The Nora I knew who didn’t live in a bum’s hotel in the Quarter, drinking more than breathing.

I shaved, dressed, and squared my shoulders as I emerged into the joyful fray.

I got surprised into a hugging line and I was passed from hand to hand, arm to arm, moving down the line of relatives. People welcomed me and murmured over my resemblance to Ellis. They patted my back, held my chin, squeezed my shoulder, rubbed my head, punched my arm, and kissed my cheek. I was further surprised by meeting Drew’s girlfriend and baby boy. By the end of the gauntlet, I was worn out and weepy.

I escaped outside and crouched between the lilacs and the magnolias, rolling a cigarette with shaking hands.

“POW! You’re a dead police!”

I flinched. The tobacco that had been resting in the paper showered to the ground in soft, pulpy flakes. A boy with a toy rifle grinned and ran away. I slumped against the trunk of the magnolia, closed my eyes, and breathed deeply. When I opened them, four little girls clothed in bright dresses and holding hands were staring at me. Their eyes were like chocolate satin and I thought of four Bambis.

“Scram,” I said, trying to roll another cigarette.

They didn’t move.

“You’re not supposed to smoke,” one said.

I smiled at them, squinting through the gray cloud. “That’s right. I’m not supposed to drink either, so why don’t you…” I dug in my pocket for a dollar bill. “Go get your cousin a big, cold gin and tonic?”

“Are you a boy or a girl?” another asked.

I looked at them, suddenly laughing, my heart wide. The girls were clothed in identical brilliant floral dresses: pink, blue, green, and yellow. They were scrubbed and shining, their hair in beaded braids, their skin warm and soft, their plump little feet buckled into blinding white sandals.

“A girl,” I replied.

“Okay,” one answered before snatching the money and darting away. The others followed, their lacy underpants flashing like bunnies’ tails. I heard rumbling bass laughter and knew the men had come outside to advise Ellis and Drew about the proper smoking and grilling of meat.

I smoked, enjoying the shade, the smell of barbeque smoke, and the sound, thinking with comfortable pain about how Cleo would have loved this.

The little girls edged back to me, one holding the drink that was frosty, full of ice and dripping and the other girls tiptoeing alongside with their hands outstretched at the ready to help if needed.

“Here.” She held it out to me. I took the wet glass and sniffed. It was gin and tonic with a wedge of lime submerged in the cold, clean depths.