me, you could use some help.'
'No, Raymond, I did call ya, but that was when I was low. I mean I'm glad you saved me, man, but your kinda help ain't nuthin' I could use.'
'Com'on Easy, you let me in on it an' we both come outta this wit' sumpin'.' He had said almost exactly the same words to me eight years before. When everything was over I had two dead men on my soul.
'No, Raymond.'
Mouse stared at me for a minute. He had light gray eyes; eyes that seemed to see through everything.
'I said no, Mouse.'
'Tell me 'bout it, Easy.' He leaned back into his chair. 'Ain't no other way, brother.'
'What you mean?'
'Nigger cain't pull his way out the swamp wit'out no help, Easy. You wanna hole on t'this house and git some money and have you some white girls callin' on the phone? Alright. That's alright. But, Easy, you gotta have somebody at yo' back, man. That's just a lie them white men give 'bout makin' it on they own. They always got they backs covered.'
'All I want is my chance,' I said.
'Yeah, Easy. Yeah, that's all.'
'But let me tell ya,' I said. 'I'm scared t'get mixed up wit' you, man.'
Mouse flashed his golden smile at me. 'What?'
'You remember when we went to Pariah? To get yo' weddin' money?'
'Yeah?'
'Daddy Reese an' Clifton died, Ray. They died 'cause'a you.'
When Mouse stopped smiling the light in the room seemed to go dim. All of a sudden he was pure business; he'd just been playing with Frank Green.
'What you mean?'
'You kilt'em, man! You, an' me too! Clifton came to me two nights fo' he died. He wanted me t'tell'im what t'do. He tole me how you planned t'use him.' I felt the tears pressing my eyes but held them back. 'But I didn't say nuthin'. I just let that boy go. Now ev'rybody think he killed Reese but I know it was you. And that hurts me, man.'
Mouse rubbed his mouth, never even blinking.
'That been botherin' you all this time?' He sounded surprised.
'Yeah.'
'That was a lotta years ago, Easy, an' you wasn't even there, really.'
'Guilt don't tell time,' I said.
'Guilt?' He said the words as if it had no meaning. 'You mean like what
'That's right.'
'I tell you what then,' he said, putting his hands up at his shoulders. 'You let me work on this with you and I let you run the show.'
'Whas that mean?'
'I ain't gonna do nuthin' you don't tell me t'do.'
'Everything I say?'
'Whatever you say, Easy. Maybe you gonna show me how a poor man can live wit'out blood.'
We didn't touch the whiskey.
I told Mouse what I knew; it wasn't much. I told him that DeWitt Albright was up to no good. I told him that I could get a thousand dollars for information about Daphne Monet because there was a price on her head.
When he asked me what she had done I looked him in the eye and said, 'I don't know.'
Mouse puffed on a cigarette while he listened to me. 'Frank come back here an' you might not get out again,' he said when I stopped talking.
'We ain't gonna be here neither, man. We both leave in the morning an' follow this thing down.' I told him where he could find DeWitt Albright. I also told him how he could get in touch with Odell Jones and Joppy if he needed help. The plan was to put Mouse on Frank's trail and I'd look into the places I had seen Daphne. We'd come up with the girl and improvise from there.
It felt good to be fighting back. Mouse was a good soldier, though I worried about him following orders. And if I had the whole thing scammed out right we'd both come out on top; I'd still be alive and have my house too.
Mouse fell asleep on my living room sofa. He was always a good sleeper. He once told me that they'd have to wake him for his execution because 'the Mouse ain't gonna miss his rest.'
