“I ain’t after her,” I said in the language I knew they’d understand. “Shit, she had her boss wop me upside the head and then he beat me. All I wanna know is why.”
“That don’t sound unreasonable,” Mouse said, holding up his beer in a gestured toast.
“Where is she?” I asked.
Our guests balked.
“Come on, men,” Mouse said. “Easy done said he ain’t mad.”
“She’s outside,” Puddin’ admitted. “Waitin’ in the car. We seen this man here when we come in the do’ an’ she pulled us out an’ told us that he was after her.”
“Just a guilty conscience,” I said.
“Go ask her in, boys,” Mouse advised. “We have us a few drinks an’ ev’rything be okay.”
Puddin’ and Tony reluctantly got up. They drifted back toward the door. I was sure that they were wondering if they could just get into their car and drive away. But I also knew that the fear of Mouse would make them stay.
“See that, Easy?” Mouse was jubilant.
“What?”
“Ain’t no need to be all mad an’ surly. All you got to do is talk. People will listen. You know Etta been tellin’ me that for years an’ I jus’ ain’t never paid her no mind.”
A few minutes later Puddin’ and Tony returned with Hannah between them. She didn’t seem to want to be coming. Tony had his hand around her upper arm.
“Here we are, Mr. Alexander,” Puddin’ warbled. “Here, tell Hannah it’s okay.”
“Have a seat, Hannah,” I said.
Mouse smiled, revealing his gold-encrusted teeth with joy at his newfound diplomacy.
This time we ordered whiskey—a pint of Canadian Club with a pail of chipped ice.
When they were half a drink down I asked, “Why you set me up like that, Hannah?”
She gulped and moved slightly as if she were going to rise. But then she settled down.
“I couldn’t help it,” she complained. “Mr. Beam asked me who you was an’ what you was askin’.”
“Why?”
“I’ont know. At first I just said that you was flirtin’ wit’ me. But then he grabbed me and said did I know you. I said no an’ that you was up here lookin’ for some money that Roman owed you.”
“But why would he care about me out of all the people come up there?” I asked.
“He knew you or sumpin’,” Hannah said. “ ’Cause the minute you walked away from me he was right there.”
“An’ then you told him about our date?”
“I really did like you,” was all Hannah had to say.
“Was it him hit me?” I asked.
“Naw,” she said and then she wavered. “Listen, Mr. Alexander, I don’t want no trouble. If you go back to Mr. Beam an’ tell’im I told you all this then he gonna get me.”
“Ain’t nobody gonna say nuthin’, sugar,” the new, beneficent Mouse said. “Easy just wanna know. Ain’t that right, Easy?”
“I won’t tell’im, Hannah. That is, if you don’t lie to me I won’t.”
“It was Rupert hit you. Rupert and Li’l Joe.”
“You with’em?”
“I didn’t know they was gonna hit you,” she cried. “They just said that they wanted to talk to you alone.”
I turned to Tony and his fat wadded friend. “Give us a minute, boys.”
“We ain’t goin’—” Tony started saying.
But he didn’t finish his sentence because I grabbed him by his throat and pulled him across the table.
“Move your ass or I’ll do it for you,” I said in a voice so hoarse and deep that it surprised me.
Mouse jumped up and put his hands between us, saying, “Hey, boys! Hold up! Stop it now!”
A few more people had come into the Hangar. They gawked while the bartender watched us closely.
Tony was trying to catch his breath. Puddin’ didn’t know what to do with his hands.
“Go on now, boys,” Mouse said. “We ain’t gonna hurt your girl. No no no no no no, Hannah. You stay here with us.”
It was almost funny. Me the one threatening violence and Mouse calmly trying to find solutions.
Tony and Puddin’ went to another table. Mattine came up to them and started asking questions, looking up at us now and then.
“Okay, Hannah,” I said. “Let’s get this over with.”
