“Uh-huh. City of the Sun, they calls it,” Jo said as she poured me some of the tea that was always abrew at the side of the fire. “He met this little girl at a picnic in Griffith Park, and she asked him to go live with her there up near Big Sur. Nice place. The kids there tryin’ to get all the craziness outta their bones.” Jo shook her head and smiled at the thought of such an impossible task.
“How long did he know this girl?” I tasted the dark brew. Mama Jo’s teas were medicinal and strong. Almost immediately I could feel my muscles releasing.
“No more than a day, but I believe that she asked him to come with her even before she bedded him.”
“That’s kinda quick, ain’t it, Jo?” I said, relishing the flush of the herbs raging through my system.
“Love don’t work on the clock, baby,” she said, looking into my eyes.
I turned my head away and took a deep draft.
Jo sat beside me on the bench. Her breath wafted across my forearms, and I regretted having come.
Jo might have been a witch; I didn’t know. She was certainly a botanist and a physician and possessed of deep insight into human nature, my nature.
Ever since asking Bonnie to leave, I had avoided Jo. I knew that she saw right through the pain brought on by my own stupidity.
“Have you seen her?” Jo asked.
“No. She called, though. She’s marrying that prince of hers.”
“The man you drove her to.”
“Yeah . . . right.”
Jo was looking at me while I stared at the hard yellow earth she walked upon. Her feet were bare and the flames from the fireplace threw odd-colored waves of light around the room.
“You know you got to go to her, baby,” Jo said after many long minutes of silence.
“Yeah,” I said again. “I know.”
“Man cain’t be a man without a woman and chirren to love him,” she said. “You got to take her up or let her go.”
A loud screech tore through the room. I leaped to my feet, and Blackie, Jo’s pet raven, spread his wings in alarm. The ebony bird had been so still in his dark corner I hadn’t noticed him.
My heart was beating fast, and I was tired, very tired.
“Do you ever make love potions, Jo?” I asked the witch.
“You don’t need a love charm, Easy. You got more love than you know how to handle now.”
I slumped down on the bench, placing my elbows on my knees. Jo put her hand to the back of my neck the way she had when we made love so long ago.
“It’s like wakin’ up in a shallow grave, baby,” she whispered. “There’s dirt in your mouth, and you so cold that you cain’t even feel it. You wanna go back to sleep, but you know that can only bring death.”
“What should I do?” I asked.
“What you doin’, child.”
I laughed. “What I’m doin’ is runnin’ full throttle without sense or worry,” I said.
“You always know what’s right, Easy,” she said softly. “Always. If you runnin’, then there’s a reason for it, even if you don’t know what that reason is.”
A sweet, frightening shock went through my mind like a live wire cut loose from its stem. Suddenly I had my bearings. I knew where I was — and I wasn’t at all happy to be there.
“I’m lookin’ for Ray, Jo,” I said, no longer sad or heartbroken or unsure.
“You two always lookin’ for each other,” she said sagely. “I don’t know where he’s at right now. He come by a couple’a weeks ago sayin’ that he was gonna be gone awhile — on business.”
We both knew what that meant: Somewhere some bank or armored car or payroll was going to be robbed, or maybe there was a soul destined to die.
“If he gets in touch with you, call me,” I said, standing up and feeling strong.
Jo rose with me and kissed me gently on the lips. This made me smile, grin even.
“You mostly see the truth,” she said. “But sometimes you like a man stranded on a island, lookin’ across a wide stretch’a ocean at a faraway shore.”
25
I could see the truth, all right. It was like swimming in a peaceful lake and suddenly seeing the beady eyes of a crocodile bearing down upon me.
I didn’t speed on the ride back to my house because I didn’t want to be stopped by the police and therefore lose time. Going to see Mama Jo was always a revelation. That’s why people shied away from her. Who wants to see the truth? Not the condemned man, the dying woman, the child who will be orphaned.
I decided somewhere in a corner of my mind to let go of Bonnie and move on. I would not go to the wedding. I would not grieve for my loss. The world did not revolve around me or my pain.
