Then Sings My Soul Page 14

He stopped the car and stepped out. Despite the faint yellow haze cast by the street lamp, she was able to take a long look at this man who was dressed in a beige jacket with large strips, dark pants and fisherman's cap. He had a cigar gripped between his teeth, ashes trailed along his lapel. He was of medium height and his stomach protruded between the opening of his jacket. Beneath his cap, his long gray hair was pulled back into a ponytail.

  Shanell caught a whiff of sweat and strong cologne. Stepping in front of them, he blocked their way. "I understand how you can't be too careful. Sorry if I scared you." He apologized. "You are Donald's children, aren't you?" His voice sounded husky as if he'd smoked a hundred packs of cigarettes.

  "We don't know anybody by that name," Tricia said. "Now if you'll please step out of our way." She attempted to go around him.

  "Who are you and why are you following us?" Shanell asked.

  "My name's Foster. Leonard Foster." He reached out to shake hands with both girls; however, neither extended theirs, so he withdrew his. "Your mother has some property of mine, a black book. She was supposed to deliver it to me. Somehow we missed each other."

  He reached into his breast pocket, pulled out a card and wrote down an address on it.

  "Give your mother this and tell her to bring the property to me tonight around midnight. I'll be waiting. Tell her to come alone." He got back into his car and drove off.

  "How did he know who we were?" Shanell asked. Tricia didn't answer. She turned the card over and read the address on the back.

  "There's our bus," Shanell shouted as she took off running.

  They ran the half block to the bus stop and made it just in time. It was almost 10:30 when they reached home. Their mother was waiting at the door; however, before she could scold them about coming back so late, Tricia told her what happened and gave her the card. Shanell described the man.

  "I was so scared," she said.

  "Momma, what's this all about? Is Donald in some kind of trouble?" Tricia asked.

  Hazel took both their hands. "Donald's always in trouble."

  "But are you gonna do what that man asked? Are you gonna give him back the black book tonight?" Shanell asked.

  Hazel grunted. "I don't know. Don't worry. Go to bed. You've got school tomorrow."

  Feeling very tired, Shanell ambled to her room. Peering intently into the mirror, she sighed. It had been an emotional day. First she found out she wasn't pregnant. Thank goodness, she thought. Next, she felt happy to have a big sister. Tricia had stood by her and she was grateful. She hadn't thrown "I told you so," in her face. And they saw a movie, tried on clothes together, and had a fun time. But when she thought of the man, Mr. Foster, she shuddered. After putting on her pajamas, she climbed into bed leaving the light on for Tricia who stayed up with Hazel. Before long, she drifted off to sleep.

  Chapter 32 - Tricia

  "But Momma, You can't go there by yourself. I'm going with you!"

  "No, Tricia. I don't want you to be involved in this. Besides, you've got school tomorrow."

  Momma put the black book into her purse, slipped on her jacket, and started for the door. I grabbed my sweater and followed her. She didn't try to stop me as I jumped into the passenger seat. I could see she was grateful though she didn't say anything until we were on the freeway heading across town.

  "Where're we going?" I asked as she got off the freeway on Hoover.

  "It's the same building I went to earlier, where the answering service was," she said as she made a left turn into a small street, stopped in front this ugly old building and parked. The whole block was empty, no people, no other cars, and the streetlight hardly made a difference. My stomach was doing flip-flops. It was after midnight. I stood behind Momma as she tried the front door. It was locked

  "Look," I said looking up at the windows on the top floor. "There's a light."

  "Maybe there's a back entrance." Momma said, walking around to the alley. I followed close behind. I didn't want to be left by myself in the dark.

  "Don't you think we should come back tomorrow during the day?" My voice sounded weak.

  "Scared? I am, too. But if he said tonight, it's tonight. Besides I want to get this thing over with as soon as possible."

  The back door to the building was unlocked. We went in. The hallway was deserted and looked gloomy. I followed Momma over to the elevator.

  "The elevator's locked," she said when the gate wouldn't move. We searched for the stairs. "I'm glad you came with me."

  We climbed up to the fourth floor. There was only one door at the end of the hall. Momma called out for Mr. Foster as she knocked. No answer. I remembered the time I went for the audition at that building downtown and how scared I was when I got to the office and nobody was there. I laughed nervously as I told Momma.

  "He'd better be here. Getting me to come way down here at this time of night." She called out again as she turned the knob.

  "Are you sure we should do this?" I touched Momma's arm.

  We spotted a light on in the inner office. Momma went over to it and knocked on the door. When nobody answered, she opened the door. The next few minutes were a blur. All I remembered was seeing a man slumped over his desk. He looked like he was asleep. It took me a few minutes to recognize the red mat his head rested on was a pool of blood soaking the papers beneath his head. I started to scream. Momma put her hand over my mouth. She grabbed my arm and pulled me out of the office.

  As we ran down the stairs, I heard voices. We kept running and didn't stop until we reached the car. Momma pushed me in and started the engine. I sank into the corner of the door trembling all over. Momma reached into her purse and pulled out a pack of cigarettes, lit one and passed it to me.

  "Take a drag," she ordered. "It'll calm you."

  I'd never smoked a cigarette before, but I took it and inhaled deeply. Immediately it felt like my lungs were on fire. I coughed.

  "Yuk! How can you stand those things?" I handed it back to her. She took a long pull and blew the smoke out the window.

  "Hope you never start," she said. We were speeding towards the freeway entrance, heading for home. As I grew calm, I felt my shoulders relax. I glanced down at my hands. They were shaking.

  "Was he dead?" I asked Momma.

  She nodded. "Was that the man who spoke to you earlier, who told you to give me the message?"

  "I think so. It's hard to tell. All I saw was the blood. Momma, somebody murdered him!" I said, panic rising again. "Do you think it had anything to do with the book?

  "I don't know."

  "Maybe we should go to the police."

  "And tell them what? That Donald gave us a black book and some money and told us to give the book to his partner? And what do you think they'll do about it? Assuming they believed me, they’d probably pick Donald up and arrest him. We don't know if he killed his partner. We don't know anything for that matter."

  As we neared our block, Momma pulled over before we reached the building and killed the engine. "Look, don't say anything about this to Shanell or your grandmother. I don't want to upset them. Don't you worry either. I'll sort this thing out. And Tricia, thanks again for coming with me though I'm sorry you had to get involved." She hugged me. She started the engine, drove up to our building and parked. "Now you go upstairs. I'll be up in a minute."

  I didn't want to leave her, but I did as she said. I climbed the stairs; opened the door quietly, so as not to wake anyone. After slipping into my pajamas, I went to the front window and looked out. Momma was still sitting in the car.

  Chapter 33 - Hazel

  Hazel awoke before her alarm went off. Outside her window, the early morning gray sky greeted her. She sat up, lit a cigarette, coughed, and leaned back against the headboard. Thoughts of last night seeped into her consciousness; a tremor ran through her body; her shoulders slumped, and her back ached. Wearily she got up and ambled to the bathroom. She didn't feel like going to work, but she knew she had to. She needed every penny knowing her days at t
he firm were numbered. Already they were cutting back on sick days and making it difficult to get any time off without being docked.

  Standing in the shower, she wondered if she should call Kevin and tell him about her problem. Then she remembered, he was out of town and wouldn't be back for another week. When she told him about Donald, the money and the black book, he seemed annoyed. He told her to keep the money, get rid of Donald, and dump the book; a simple solution to a complex problem. When she told him about the break-in, he said she was being melodramatic. "Some kid looking for money to buy drugs." Another simple explanation. What would be his explanation for the dead body? That her imagination ran wild? No, she didn't need simple explanations. She needed solutions.

  She toweled off, dressed, and went into the kitchen for her morning coffee. It was still early. She'd let the girls sleep a little longer especially after last night. One bright spot was that Tricia and Shanell had made up. She was grateful for that. And her mother seemed to be calmer though the improvements were just slight.

  Seemingly unaware of her actions, Hazel reached up into the cupboard, retrieved the little book from the envelope, and began leafing through it. Could these be telephone numbers? They were written in such a way that they could be anything. She reached for the telephone, picked a number at random, and dialed. "I'm sorry, but your call cannot be completed as dialed." The mechanical voice of the operator got on her nerves. She opened the book again and picking another number at random, she dialed. The same message. Could they be license numbers? Social security numbers? bank account numbers? Who would list page after page of bank account numbers or license numbers? What does it mean?

  "Hi Momma, Did you get any sleep last night?" Still in her pajamas, Tricia sat down opposite her. "I didn't get much. I'm too tired to go to school, but I suppose I'd better seeing as how we're near the end of the term." Tricia noticed the black book in her mother's hand.

  "I'm trying to figure out what these numbers are?" Hazel said. Tricia took the book from her and studied the figures.

  "Telephone numbers?"

  "No, I've tried a couple of them."

  "Maybe they're in other states," said Tricia.

  "The area codes would have been written down too don't you think?"

  "Could be post office box numbers."

  "That's a possibility." Hazel responded. "But how would I find out?"

  "What about Mr. Frazier? He used to work for the post office. He might know," Tricia suggested.

  "I hate to bring Mr. Frazier into this. He'll tell Mrs. Frazier and before you know it, our business would be spread all over the neighborhood."

  "But Momma, you don't have to tell him what it's for."

  Hazel sighed, "I suppose I could try. Lord knows we need all the help we can get."

  Both sat silent for a while, not realizing they were thinking the same thing until Tricia gave voice to it.

  "Do you think we're in danger? From the police or from whoever killed that man?"

  Hazel laughed nervously. "We didn't do anything and we don't know anything. Why would anybody want to bother with us?" She glanced down at the black book. "Except for this damn book!" She tossed it across the table.

  "And the money," Tricia said. "Don't forget about the money."

  "We'll worry about that later. Right now you'd better get ready for school. I'll stop by the Frazier's tonight." She got up quickly and started to her bedroom. "Wake Shanell and look in on Ma'dear, will you. I'm running behind."

  The doorbell rang. Tricia let the nurse in. Nurse greeted her with a scowl, went in to Ma'dear's room. Tricia heard her greet her grandmother with in her usual booming voice, "AND HOW ARE WE TODAY?" as if her grandmother were hard of hearing. She shook her head and hurried to her room to wake Shanell.

  *****

  It was almost 8 PM that evening when Hazel knocked on her neighbor's door. Mrs. Frazier let her in, a look of mild surprise on her face. Ready to gossip, Mrs. Frazier offered her a glass of lemonade, which Hazel refused, and sat down in her favorite chair. She picked up her knitting needles, and began telling Hazel about the latest neighborhood gossip. Hazel listened politely and then, before Mrs. Frazier could go on, told her that she'd come to see Mr. Frazier.

  A look of suspicion crept across her neighbor's face.

  "Mr. Frazier use to work for the post office, didn't he?" Hazel went on quickly. Mrs. Frazier smiled and leaned back in her chair.

  "Yes, he retired two years ago. It hasn't been easy having him under foot all day. He tries to keep himself busy doing odd jobs. Is that what you want to see him for? Do you need help moving things around or fixing something? I'll call him for you." She rose from her chair and shambled to the door, her corpulent figure almost filling the doorframe.

  "Jack," she yelled. "Mrs. Porter is here to see you." She ambled back to her chair and flopped back into it. "He'll be just a moment. He's in the bathroom." She peered over her glasses at Hazel. "You done something to your hair?"

  "No, I just haven't had time to go to the beauty parlor." Hazel touched her hair self-consciously.

  "Well, if I had hair like yours..." Mrs. Frazier patted her wig. Before she could continue, Mr. Frazier walked in. Laying down his newspaper, he plopped down in the recliner. "You wanted to see me? No more break-ins I hope. This neighborhood is getting to be something terrible. Too many young people with nothing better to do other than steal other folks' stuff."

  Hazel looked first at Mrs. Frazier who had resumed her knitting, and then at Mr. Frazier. She wanted to speak to him alone. But there was no way she could avoid his wife hearing their conversation. She handed him a paper on which she'd copied the numbers from the book. "I thought you might have some idea as to whether these are post office box numbers."

  "Where'd you get them?" Mrs. Frazier asked, looking over her husband's shoulder.

  "She didn't come here to see you, Gertrude. She came to see me. Now mind your own business," he said peering down at the numbers and scratching his head. "Could be."

  "Is there any way I can find out where the boxes are located?"

  Stroking his chin, he thought for a while, "Tell you what I'll do. I still got some friends down at the station. I'll check around and let you know. How's that?"

  Hazel smiled gratefully. "Thank you so much. I really appreciate that." She rose and moved towards the door. "I'm sorry to have disturbed you. Don't get up. I'll see myself out." She left quickly before they could ask any further questions and hurried up to her apartment.

  Chapter 34 - Ma'dear

  About a week after my visit to Sadie's, who should show up at my door but her. It was after midnight. She had a black eye that she said she got when she bumped into a door, Harry, the door. She was a little drunk and I almost felt sorry for her. Then she asked if she could have that money Willie Joe left for her. I told her it was only $5.00. She said every little bit helps. Harry had accused her of stealing his money.

  "That asshole hauled off and hit me." She laughed. "I picked up a bottle and smashed him across the head. When I left, he was laying on the floor moaning and trying to figure out what hit him. Child, you shoulda seen it. I laughed so hard I almost pee'd in my pants."

  I made her a sandwich and a cup of coffee and let her sleep on my sofa. I told her I had to get up early for work in the morning. During the night, I decided that I really didn't have the heart for revenge. At first light I would take that tainted money and as dear as money is to me, I'd burn it up. To hell with spells. Then I went back to sleep.

  She was snoring when I left for work. It wasn't until I was on my way home in the evening that I remembered what I'd planned to do. To my surprise the apartment was empty. Sadie had gone. Not only that but on the table was the envelope I had put the money in. It was torn open and empty. That wasn't the only thing that was gone. I discovered later that she had taken a necklace and earrings Willie Joe had given me. They was a birthday present he'd bought for me shortly after we was married. They weren't worth a lot, but they w
ere from him and meant the world to me. At first I was angry. Then I remembered the money and I laughed out loud. Serves her right whatever happens. The more I thought about it, though, the more scared I got. What if something does happen to her? What if the spell worked and she died.

  I tried calling her on the phone but didn't get no answer. The next day I took the bus over to her and Harry's place. The super said they had moved. "Snuck out during the night like rats. Stuck me for the rent."

  It was six months before I heard any more about Sadie and Harry. One day I happened to be in the grocery store when I ran into my old friend Esther. When she saw me, a strange look crossed her face. I caught it before she smiled and hugged me. She asked me had I heard what happened to Sadie. I told her about the last time I saw her. I didn't tell her about the money.

  "I ran into her a few months back. She looked like a ghost, must not of weight more than 90 pounds," Esther said.

  My stomach turned over. "What do you mean?"

  "Your friend Sadie Brown is dead. Didn't you know?"

  I felt tightness in my chest. "Sadie...dead? When? How?"

  "How you think? You know how Sadie loved to eat. Well, I heard she stopped eating and lost so much weight she died of starvation. She starved herself to death. Ain't that something?"

  I didn't want to hear no more. I made some excuse to leave and went straight home. That night I couldn't eat. I tossed and turned and didn't get a bit of sleep. I kept seeing Sadie like she was the last time. And I cursed myself for not getting rid of the money. The next day I couldn't get out of bed. I didn't call in to work for a week. I wasn't surprised that I lost my job. Then I came close to losing my apartment. I couldn't think about anything else but that I had caused the death of another human being. If it wasn't for my mama and my son, I mighta taken my life. I was so miserable.

  It took a while before I could pull myself together and scrape up enough money to go back home. I sold everything I could and when I had enough for a ticket, I hopped on the first bus going south.