(Los Angeles, 9/10/68)
“You were talking in your sleep.”
“What was I saying?”
“I thought I heard ‘at least’ and ‘vicious.’“
Dwight rubbed his neck. It always knotted at the same spot. He got a dream aftershock: Memphis and blood spray redux.
Karen sat up and leaned over him. She was sleep-puffed and lush. She crossed her legs and sat Indian-style. He scooted down and kissed her knees. He heard Dina one room over, talking to her stuffed frog.
“Tell me again, and convince me. My simple presence here is not screwing that little girl up forever.”
Karen took his hands. “Only if she grows up and joins the FBI.”
“There’s some left-wing parenthood thing going on here that eludes me.”
“She likes you more than she likes What’s-His-Name. Let it go at that.”
“I don’t understand the fucking world you live in.”
Karen kissed his fingers. “You understand it all too well. Your accommodations acknowledge my world and grant it an offhanded respect.”
Dwight reached for his cigarettes. Karen grabbed the pack and tossed it on the dresser.
“Don’t tempt me.”
“All right.”
“And explain yourself. Connect ‘at least’ and ‘vicious.’ ”
That knot again-Dwight kneaded and rubbed.
“A friend said it. The full quote was ‘At least they were vicious.’ ”
“Who was he referring to?”
“Babe, please.”
“Mr. Hoover? The cops in Chicago?”
Dwight laughed. It made his neck throb. Karen tickled his legs and built on the laugh and made the hurt stop.
“All right, I’ll tell you. He was referring to a dissolute band of right-wing thugs.”
Karen grinned. “I like your friend. What’s his name?”
“No comment.”
“Is he a cop?”
“He used to be.”
“Is he as tall and good-looking as you?”
Dwight grinned. “Emphatically not.”
Dina said good night to the frog. It came through the wall plain. Dwight knew she wanted them to hear it. Karen bowed and put her hand on her heart.
“I think I’ve got a line on Joan.”
“Quid pro quo, then. Blow up an extra monument and try not to get caught.”
Karen curled around him. Dwight pulled off her barrette and let her hair go. He said, “Do you love me?” She said, “I’ll think about it.”
(Las Vegas, 8/11/68)
The union folks congregated at Sills Tip-Top. Wayne studied their MO. She’d show there sooner or later. It took him four cruise-bys.
Sills was crowded-the lunch trade and no empty booths. It was up in shitsville North Vegas. The color line was blurred there. The joint was quasi-segregated. Whites ate on one side, blacks on the other.
Wayne walked in. Mary Beth Hazzard was over on the black side. She was sitting with four union friends. They were all black. Wayne recognized them from his picket-line show.
Two people noticed him. A man nudged Mary Beth. She noticed him and whispered all around the booth. The people got up and walked out. They passed Wayne en route. They lowered their eyes.
Wayne walked over and put his hand out. Her hand was firm and dry. He said, “Mrs. Hazzard.” She said, “Mr. Tedrow.” Her eyes clicked to the opposite seat. Wayne took the cue and sat down.
They looked at each other. It was still. It made the restaurant noise subside. People started looking at them. It was still. Eyes just clicked their way.
Mary Beth touched her coffee cup. “I read about your father. You have my condolences for your loss.”
The union folks had left their coffee cups and saucers behind. Wayne cleared a space for his hands.
“Thank you. My father treated union people horribly, so your condolences affirm your good manners very nicely.”
“I wasn’t fishing for compliments, Mr. Tedrow.”
“I know. I’m just hoping you’ll accept the one I gave you, and not consider it condescending.”
Mary Beth smiled. Wayne felt a million eyes click.
“And my condolences for your husband.”
“Condolences accepted. But in the spirit of candor, I’ll add that Cedric was recklessly fervent and had no business being alone with Pappy Dawkins at 2:00 a.m.”
Wayne glanced around for a waitress. Two waitresses caught it and looked away. A little black boy draped himself over his booth and stared at them. Two little white girls pointed.
“You’re very nervous, Mr. Tedrow. If you’re thinking of ordering coffee, you might want to reconsider.”
Wayne smiled. “And besides, they won’t serve me,”
“They will if you make a big-enough fuss.”
“Or put on a big-enough show.”
Mary Beth smiled. “Your show at the picket line was memorable. It begs the question of what you were trying to say, but I won’t press you on that.”
Wayne fidgeted. Mary Beth pushed her coffee cup over. Wayne warmed his hands on it.
“I want to thank you for your part in settling the strike, Mr. Tedrow. The rumor is that you convinced Mr. Hughes.”
Wayne said, “Yes, I did.”
“And your motive?”
“You mean, my motive given my history?”
Mary Beth touched the coffee cup. “I don’t judge your history as harshly as most black people around here would.”
Wayne touched the coffee cup. His hands almost touched hers. She left her hands there. He pulled his back.
“And why is that?”
“You killed those men while you were looking for Wendell Durfee, so you get a pass from me on that one.”
Peeple looked at them. A big fat black guy and a tall, skinny white guy flat-out fucking gawked.
“Why, Mrs. Hazzard?”
“Because Leroy Williams and the Swasey brothers supplied the dope that killed my sister. Because Wendell Durfee raped me on April 19, 1951, which makes me inclined to forgive your rash behavior and like you just fine.”
Wayne looked at his hands. They jerked and spun the coffee cup. Some coffee spilled on Mary Beth’s hands. She didn’t seem to notice. She kept her hands there.
“I read about your son. The missing-person part, I mean.”
“He was a brilliant boy. He knew a great deal about chemistry.”
“I’m a chemist.”
“Yes, I was told that.”
“Were you inquiring about me?”
“Yes, I was.”
“Why?”
Mary Beth pulled her hands back. “You’re pushing me. Don’t ask me to say things I’m not ready to.”
Wayne looked around the diner. The whole goddamn room was looking their way.
“You described your son in the past tense. Do you think he’s dead?”
Mary Beth shook her head. “There’s times I do, there’s times I don’t. Sometimes dead’s easier, sometimes it’s not.”
“Do you miss him?”
“Yes, I miss him terribly.”
Wayne said, “I’ll find him for you.”
____________________
Part II