Tishomingo Blues (7 page)

"What did you say?"

"I told him to stay away from us. And had another drink."

"What're you gonna do?"

"Watch my goddamn back. What you think I'm gonna do?"

Dennis thought of RobertTaylor, Robert's voice in the dark saying, "That man gives you any shit, tell me." Dennis hesitated but kept looking at Charlie before he said, "I think of what happened ... I'm up on the ladder ... Could they have walked out from the hotel and not seen me?"

"They couldn't miss seeing you."

"So they don't care I'm a witness. It wasn't gonna stop 'em from shooting Floyd."

Charlie said, "You're just some squirt stuck up there on the ladder. They might've wished they brought a rifle."

Dennis said, "They were having fun talking about it-making a bet whether the one could hit me or not, Junebug, with the slicked-back hair. He said, `Shit, I'll hit him on the fly.' "

"I heard 'em," Charlie said, "but couldn't tell what they were saying."

"I think about it now," Dennis said, "it pisses me off. They didn't see me as any kind of problem. Who's the guy in the red trunks? Where? Up on the ladder. That's nobody-fuck him. You know what I mean? When Arlen threatened you, on the phone, didn't it piss you off?"

"Sure it did."

Dennis watched Charlie looking down at his big hands, the left one that years ago could throw a baseball ninety-nine miles an hour.

"You bet I was pissed."

Dennis said, "You're bigger than he is."

"Yes, I am," Charlie said, looking up. "I use to buy him cheap when he was a two-bit deputy and I was running liquor."

Dennis sat in the lawn chair, National Enquirers on his lap. "Did you know Tom and Nicole fell out of love way before Tom pulled the plug?"

"I suspected it," Charlie said, "but wasn't ever sure. You want a beer?"

Chapter
6

ROBERT OPENED THE DOOR in a hotel terry-cloth robe smoking weed, knowing who it was and what happened, curious to see how Dennis was handling himself this morning. One to ten-ten being all the way cool-Dennis was about a seven, up from the five he was last night; though before he got out of the car at Vernice's he might've inched up to a six. It surprised RobertDennis wasn't tighter strung, Dennis looking around the suite now. Robert offered the joint and Dennis took it saying, "One hit, I have to dive." Robert watched him take it in deep and let it work inside him before blowing it out. He took another quick one saying, "I have to see a state cop from the CIB in about ten minutes. You know what CIB stands for?"

"What it means every place they have it," Robert said, watching Dennis again looking around the suite, still holding on to the joint, pinching it, looking at the balcony open to blue sky and around to the table by the sofa, looking at Robert's stack of CDs now and the jam box, where John Lee Hooker was coming from.

Dennis said it. "JohnLeeHooker."

Robert said, "You got the ear." Dennis told him he used to have the CD, "King of Boogie," and Robert said, "I'll try another one on you. See how good you are."

He watched Dennis take his third hit. This time he handed back the joint saying, "That's good stuff."

"It's all right. I scored it last night."

"After you dropped me off?"

"Way after, with my friend the security brother use to be a Memphis policeman? He took me to a place called Junebug's, a white man's idea of a juke joint, full of ugly people giving us dirty looks, except some young ladies and the management. The young ladies wanted to show us their trailers and the management wanted to sell us uppers. I said I go the other way, chief, and scored a bag, three bills the local rate for a half. We leave, some of the uglies come outside, their intention I'm feeling to kick our heads in. But they see the gleaming black Jag-u-ar and their minds go, shit, who is this nigga owns a car like that? We drive off I give 'em a toot."

He could see Dennis was anxious to tell him something and there were things Robert would like to know, but wanted Dennis sitting down first, at ease-on the sofa, good-and a cool drink? Uh-unh.

Dennis said, "The two guys, the ones looking up at me on the ladder ...?

"The ones shot your man Floyd."

"They own Junebug's."

"Hey, shit, you don't mean to tell me." It brought a grin. "The one being Junebug himself and the other one was Arlen ... Novis?"

"The one we thought was the Lone Ranger," Dennis said, looser than when he walked in, up from a seven to eight, grinning back, Dennis saying, "But how do you know that?"

"I told you, I do my homework. And Junebug and Mr. Novis musta done Floyd before I started watching, huh?" Dennis looked toward the balcony and Robert said, "Not out there, the bedroom window. I was getting dressed."

He offered Dennis the joint but he shook his head.

"Don't want to go off the perch baked."

"I have. It's not a good idea."

"So they saw you and they know you saw them."

"I have to meet the CIB guy," Dennis said, looking at his watch. "You were me, what would you tell him?"

"Tell him I wasn't there. Tell him I'm just a dumb white boy dives offa eighty-foot ladders. Why didn't they shoot you?"

"Charlie came out."

"That's right. Why didn't they shoot him, too?" "He knows those guys. Charlie use to run whiskey."

"They friends of his?"

"He knows 'em, that's all."

"Tells 'em you won't say nothing, but you not sure they believe it. They know if you point 'em out they gone."

"That's where I am," Dennis said.

"Saying to yourself, what the fuck am I doing here? Thinking it might be best to take off."

He watched Dennis frown and shake his head saying he wasn't going anywhere, he had his show set up.

Good. He was cool, gonna face whatever, ride it out.

"Let's me and you," Robert said, "stay close. You know what I'm saying? Help each other out. Like I wouldn't mind you coming with me to see Mr. Kirkbride." It got Dennis frowning again. "For fun. Watch the man's face when I show him the picture. Watch how I play him."

"You want an audience," Dennis said, getting up from the sofa. "I have to go."

"I watch you perform, you watch me. Listen, I phoned, the man's over at his Southern Living place today."

"And you know who works there?" Dennis said, wandering over to the balcony. "The Lone Ranger."

"I heard that," Robert said. "Understand he did some time, too. See, the security brother still has friends on the Memphis Police. They look up sheets, tell him, and he tells me what I need to know."

"You pay him, huh?"

"Way more than he earns making people feel secure." Robert watched Dennis step out to the balcony and remembered he wanted to play a CD for him. He heard Dennis say Billy
Darwin
was down there. Talking to the hotel electrician.

"What's he doing? I told him I'd set the spots tonight."

Robert was up now shuffling through his stack of CDs, telling Dennis, "I arrive, check in, I give the cashier ten thousand in cash, so they know I'm here."

"You said you don't gamble."

"I put on a show, play some baccarat like JamesBond. I'm using the cashier as a bank for my tip money I don't have to carry around. Understand? I get the suite comped, I get tickets to the shows in the TomTomRoom, and I get to meet Mr. Billy
Darwin
, shake his hand. Mr. Billy
Darwin
is cool. He looks you in the eye and you know he's reading you. Mr. Billy
Darwin
can tell in five seconds if you for real or you by ciditty. You know what I'm saying?"

Dennis turned from the balcony. "I don't have any idea."

"From that Shemekia Copeland song `Miss Hy Ciditty'? Means a person puts on airs, fakes it." He found the CD he wanted and replaced JohnLeeHooker with it.

Dennis said, "So how'd you come out with
Darwin
?"

But the CD came on, a dirge beat, and Robert said, "Listen, see if you can name who this is."

Dennis heard a baritone male voice half singing half speaking the words:

I got a bone for you.

I got a bone for you.

I got a little bone for you.

I got a bone for you 'cause I'm a doggy And I'm naked almost all the time.

"The harmonica could be Little Walter," Dennis said, "but I don't know."

"Little Walter, shit. Man, that's MarvinPontiac and his hit song `I'm a Doggy.' "

"I never heard of him."

"Shame on you. Marvin's my man. MarvinPontiac, part of him came out of Muddy Waters. Another part was stolen from him by IggyPop. You know Iggy?"

"Yeah, I see what you mean. Iggy's `I Want to Be Your Dog' must've come from ... yeah, `I'm a Doggy.'

MarvinPontiac's voice saying, singing:

I'm a doggy.

I stink when I'm wet 'cause I'm a doggy.

"Some of his music," Robert said, "he calls Afro-Judaic blues. Marvin always wore white robes and a turban like ErykahBadu's before she went baldheaded. Had his own ways. Lived by himself.... Listen to this. A producer begged him to cut a record? MarvinPontiac said yeah, all right, he'd do it-if the producer would cut his grass."

"His lawn?"

"Yeah, his grass, his lawn, the man did it to get Marvin in the studio. That's what you listening to, The Legendary Marvin Pontiac Greatest Hits.

`Pancakes' is on there. `Bring Me Rocks' is on there. It's the one has the line `My penis has a face and it likes to bark at Germans.' That's funny 'cause MarvinPontiac's face was never photographed. There shots of him taken from far away, you see him in his white robes and the turban? But there's not any up close."

"He still around?"

"Died in '77 in Detroit. Got run over by a bus and they picked his bones, Iggy and some others, DavidBowie. But listen, you better get ready, do your dive. You know what one you gonna do?"

"Not till I'm up on the perch. This afternoon's a warm-up."

"Look over the house. Big crowd, give 'em the triple somersault with some twists and shit. Small crowd-"

"Flying reverse pike. I gotta go," Dennis said, "meet the CIB guy."

Robert said, "Wait," and edged toward the balcony. "Remember I was telling you about the famous crossroads?"

He saw Dennis shake his head.

"Last night in the car, driving you to Tunica." Robert paused but didn't get a reaction. "I'm telling you about the great RobertJohnson the bluesman and the cop cars go flying past?"

"Yeah, I remember."

Robert pointed out at the sky. "That way thirty miles down the road, where Highway 49 crosses Old 61."

"Yeah?"

"That's the famous crossroads. Where the great RobertJohnson sold his soul to the devil. You understand what I'm saying to you?"

No, he didn't.

He didn't understand half of what Robert said to him.

Was Robert here because this was where some serious blues got started? The way tourists visit Elvis' house in Tupelo with the bed in the living room? Robert was too cool to be a tourist. Robert wouldn't visit a site, Robert was the site. Was he here looking for talent? Some forgotten bluesman missing link, another MarvinPontiac, and take him back to Motown?

Or was that a side deal while he set up Mr. Kirkbride?

Why would he show Kirkbride the photograph of a man hanging from a bridge unless he expected to get something out of it? Restitution. Play on Kirkbride's sympathy. Hope the man is a rich bleeding heart. Willing to contribute to ... what? Some kind of appeal, the Robert Taylor scholarship fund for the heirs of a man who was lynched. Robert drives up in his cool S-Type Jaguar looking legit, Robert soft-spoken ... and the man hanging from the bridge isn't even his great-granddaddy.

This is what Dennis was thinking in the elevator, cutting across the lobby and down the hallway past the rest rooms, the beauty shop, the workout room and sauna toward the patio bar.

Robert had the confidence to be a confidence man. You believed him. He said in the car last night, "That man gives you any shit, tell me." Dennis believed him as he said it and still believed he was the guy he could go to. Robert knew what was going on here. He knew ArlenNovis had been to prison and worked for Mr. Kirkbride, because Robert had looked into Mr. Kirkbride, he must have, to see if the man was worth going after.

Dennis pushed through the glass door to the patio.

Mr
Lenahan
?

It was the CIB man, JohnRau, it had to be, getting up from a table, his hand extended. Dennis walked over and they shook hands. JohnRau, in his shirtsleeves but wearing a tie, his navy-blue suitcoat on the back of his chair, gave Dennis his card and asked in a pleasant voice if he'd like a cold beverage. Dennis said no thanks, feeling the grass laying him back now just enough. Good stuff.

JohnRau had a Coca-Cola and a dish of mixed nuts on the table. They sat down and Dennis let him explain who he was and what he was investigating, JohnRau saying it shouldn't take too long, he understood Dennis was getting ready to do a show.