Tishomingo Blues

he believed people who camped out must be as serious as people who put on uniforms and became Civil War soldiers, and here these people were doing both.

He watched TV as he called Jerry's suite, knowing Anne would pick up.

'I have two ice-cold margaritas sitting here.'

'He's taking a nap.'

'I thought he was going down to roll the dice.'

'He changed his mind. He'd rather play at night.'

'Wake him up. Tell him that Australian, the one fucks with poisonous snakes, is on TV Jerry likes that show.'

'You ever wake him up?'

'Doesn't like it, huh?'

'Even when he wakes up himself, in the morning? You can't talk to him for a couple of hours.'

'I'll come by later.'

He watched the Aussie fuckin with the poisonous snake, his chin down on the ground talking to it in a nice tone of voice, the snake hissing, the snake trying to tell the man, get the fuck away from me, fool.

Robert could picture Anne right now looking down at Jerry sleeping with his mouth open, zoo noises coming from him, Anne wondering if what she got out of being his wife was worth it.

Jerry had picked her out of an auto show, Anne on the carousel with a car she said was all new from its high- concept styling to its heart-stopping performance, Anne dealing out adjectives with a dreamy smile. Robert was there. He watched Jerry walk up and ask the standard question auto show models got a hundred times a night, 'Do you come with the car?' He did, and she said, 'You can't afford me, with or without the car.' She told Robert, after Jerry had put her into a high-rise on the Detroit River, 'You're supposed to smile and act coy, but I knew this guy was real and I made the first move to get him. I thought he looked like a gangster.'

Robert said to her that time, 'Not many girls wish for a gangster and get one. You challenged the man and he stepped up.'

Even dumped his wife, left her behind with three kids in college. It cost him, but must've been worth it. Germano attentive at first, acting like he was in love. Was he still in love? It was hard to tell with a gangster. Robert believed he loved her the way he loved a pair of good-looking alligator shoes he'd never let go of. Anne said, 'Of course he loves me, don't you?' Saying it with the same high opinion of herself she had when she told Jerry he couldn't afford her, even though her modeling career hadn't left Detroit and there she was working an auto show.

Robert admired girls who were determined and worked hard on getting what they wanted. It didn't take nothing but a look to get her to slide over.

Anne 's situation, once she had it, she didn't want it. But couldn't walk out on account of the prenuptial agreement gave her zero if she left during the first five years. But Jerry's personality was even more threatening than the agreement. Would he let her walk even if she decided to?

They were kidding around one time and she said to Robert, 'But when Jerry dies, like if he got popped? Which could happen, right? That's different, I get what I deserve.' Robert thinking that was a funny way to put it. She mentioned it another time in bed saying, 'I worry about Jerry getting popped.' Robert thinking, Women that worry about it don't say it that way. Robert having heard a number of women, not even counting his mother, express this kind of worry about him but using much softer words.

Still another time after being intimate and still bare naked, when she talked the most, Anne said, 'Robert, I'm gonna be honest with you. If something happens to Jerry and we can be together? I won't ever marry you.'

Like he'd ask her.

'How come?'

'I wouldn't be able to handle the racial thing.' Robert gave her his puzzled look that time.

'Why? I can take you to black clubs, nobody'll say nothing. You'll be safe.'

She said, 'I don't mean that.'

See, she didn't get it.

Anne had style and was mostly with it, but not all the way on the same level of cool as he was. Those three- quarters of white girl in her held her back. Like being seen out in public with him would jeopardize her having passed. It was the reason she told Dennis she wasn't into having kids. Careful not to. A child with black features was to emerge, Jerry would throw both of them out on the street. Her dressing as a quadroon whore for the reenactment wasn't a risk. Robert saw it as showing off for him, something between them, no chance of Jerry catching on. Robert told her one time, 'You want Jerry to let you go? Tell him your grandma was high yella.' She told him he wasn't funny.

He wasn't trying to be. Robert looked at situations straight on, didn't color them in his mind or change his personality to meet the occasion. He liked to look around, believed he could get something going with Carla, but would have to meet her in New York. Carla, without you realizing it, would run you like a company and you wouldn't own yourself no more. He liked to grade women, see how they'd measure up as wives, but without seeing any need to ever marry. He didn't need kids. He was still a Young Boy.

Robert punched his way through channels with the remote and came to a movie he liked and could see anytime, All That jazz, a behind-the-scenes movie, Robert's favorite kind, this one taking you backstage to show what putting on a musical was like, Roy Scheider playing the choreographer based on Bob Fosse, Roy smoking all the way through the picture, smoking while a doctor examines him, has a heart attack and the cute nurse is in bed with him in the hospital, the man living every minute of his life till the way he's living kills him. Beautiful.

Watching the movie Robert twisted one to smoke along with Roy, and somewhere before it ended he fell asleep.

When he opened his eyes he clicked the set off, he sat low in the chair staring at the dark screen, staring for maybe a minute before he reached for the phone and called the hotel operator.

' Helene, how you doing? You know the number for Junebug's? I don't have a phone book, somebody stole it.' He said, 'I'd appreciate it, dear, thank you.' He waited ten rings before a voice came on. ' Wesley, how you doing? Listen, this is Robert. Is Walter Kirkbride there?… Well, can you take a peek, see if his car's in back?'

'He don't use his car,' Wesley said, 'he uses one of Arlen's.'

'I forgot. Wesley, is it Traci he sees or the other one?'

'I think Traci. Yeah, the little bitty one.'

'You see Walter, tell him I called, okay?'

Wesley said, 'Who's this again?'

At nine, Robert got dressed and stepped two doors down the hall to Jerry's suite. Anne let him in and went in the bedroom. Jerry was standing in front of the TV watching a baseball game. He turned the set off saying, 'Braves and the Cards-who gives a shit.'

Robert said, 'I talked to Kirkbride. Told him we know what he's doing.'

'You're sure about this?'

'Five to one I'm right.'

'You told him-what'd he say?'

'Nothing. But he listened. You know what I'm saying? The man listened to every word. Took it in. Almost seemed to nod his head like he was saying yeah, that's how it works.'

Jerry had his hand on the doorknob.

'Can we use him?'

'Have to wait and see.'

'For what?'

'My man Dennis.'

Jerry shook his head as he opened the door.

Robert said, 'Walter wants to stage a fight in the woods, dying to.'

It caught Jerry before he could walk out.

'But we won't be able to do it and still have the spectators watching us. See, they did fight in the woods at Brice's Cross Roads and Walter likes to do it right, make it look authentic.'

Jerry waited, holding the door open.