Delta Blues Page 6

  THE NOONDAY SUN warmed the Delta dirt tilled in preparation for winter crops, sending its scent drifting into the Cadillac’s open window. Faye Mae, wearing the new red plaid shift dress and white blouse Granny had given her, sat in the front seat between Levon and Lee. It was her tenth birthday, and she was heading to an afternoon party at the house of Norma Jeanette, her best friend. Levon was driving Lee to see someone, but she didn’t know who. She only knew that Levon had reassured her that Lee was nothing more than a political organizer for Big Jim, and if he had a gun it was likely for his own protection. For the first time in a week, her mind was at peace.

  The radio played blues from KFFA something fierce.

  “Whew, that’s real music, Lee. The stuff down in New Orleans is good, but it can’t hold a candle to the Delta blues,” bragged Levon.

  “I’m not a big music fan.” Lee focused straight ahead.

  “You need to drop by the Dew Drop when some of these ole guys are cuttin’ heads, and they’ll make a believer out of you.”

  “Cuttin’ heads? You mentioned that the other day. What is that?”

  Levon chuckled. “Where you from? Y’all don’t cut heads down in New Orleans? That’s when two blues players want the same crowd, so they outplay each other, forcing the audience to pick one of them as the better player. Round these parts, it also means anyone who’s trying to outdo someone else. Or when two people are working together, but they got different intentions.”

  Levon stretched to turn down the blues song that blared from the Caddie’s radio. “When I pick you up after the party, you finally get that birthday present I’ve been promising you,” he said to Faye Mae.

  Faye Mae could hardly wait. She’d gotten nice clothes from Granny, a doll from Daddy Ray, and she was looking forward to the party, but Levon’s present was the one everyone had told her she’d never receive. Faye Mae crossed her arms and stared dead ahead at U.S. 61, watching the Caddie gobble it up.

  FAYE MAE SHIFTED HER BIRTHDAY GIFTS in her arms as the Caddie rolled to a stop in front of Norma Jeanette’s house. The sun was sinking low, and Levon was late picking her up. To her astonishment, Lee was behind the wheel instead of Levon, who was nowhere to be seen. Faye Mae had never seen anyone but Levon drive Big Jim’s Caddie.

  “Your brother didn’t finish with his business. He told me to pick you up and take you home. Did you enjoy your party?”

  “Yes, it was nice. We played spin-the-bottle, and I outran every boy there,” Faye Mae said. “Levon promised he would give me my birthday present now!”

  Lee opened the Caddie’s trunk and motioned for her to put her presents inside. Faye Mae almost dropped them when she spied Levon’s guitar case. Levon never went anywhere without it. She tightened her hold on the presents.

  “I don’t think I should go anywhere without Levon.” She backed away from the Caddie. “I can wait here til you bring him.”

  “Levon not being here is part of your present. He needed Big Jim to set it up, and he’s doing that now.” Lee took the gifts from Faye Mae’s arms and placed them inside the trunk. What Lee had said was true. Levon was always so correct, and seeking Big Jim’s help made sense to her.

  When the Caddie reached Greenwood’s largest intersection, Lee turned it away from the highway that headed home. Parking right in front of Barclay’s Drugstore, Lee came all the way around the Caddie to open and close the door for Faye Mae. Together, the white man and the young black girl headed up the sidewalk of downtown Greenwood. Faye Mae could feel the stares of every person who passed them.

  Faye Mae had walked by the drugstore many times, always looking inside to see who was eating ice cream at the soda fountain. Sometimes she’d seen Daddy Ray and Claire sharing a hot fudge sundae. Suddenly, Faye Mae took a step backward and shook her head at Lee.

  “I can’t go in there. I’m not allowed. We could get in big trouble.” Faye Mae’s voice shook. Granny would kill her if she started this kind of mess in Greenwood.

  Lee opened the shiny bronze door and laid a firm hand on her shoulder. “It’s fine for you to come in today. Big Jim and Levon worked it all out for you.”

  Big Jim had never done anything for Faye Mae, but apparently he would if Levon asked him. Maybe Big Jim wasn’t as bad as Granny had warned her.

  “You promise? I don’t want Granny getting all mad at me.”

  “I promise,” Lee said. “The manager knows we’re coming. Big Jim called him. He knows how to handle these things. Nobody crosses Big Jim around these parts. Now, how can your Granny get mad at that?”

  Faye Mae let him guide her into Barclay’s past the perfume counter with its boxes of Evening in Paris already stacked up for Christmas, past the gift counters with boxes of flowery stationery and cards, then finally into the soda fountain area with its black and white tile floor and small tables, each surrounded by four wooden chairs and set with glass holders of straws and napkins. Faye Mae moved like she was in a dream. Self-conscious over how she must look after the raucous party, she smoothed down her pigtails and stood a little taller. She wished Norma Jeanette were here to see this. She would just die with envy.

  “We don’t need a menu, ma’am,” Lee told the teenaged blond who came over to take their order. “I believe the Senator called in our order.”

  Faye Mae watched how the girl kept her eyes only on Lee, never looking in her direction.

  “Yes, sir. He called. And, he said you and … uh … the young girl would want a hot fudge sundae each. I’ll get ‘em for you right away.” She scurried off, still avoiding Faye Mae until she got to the kitchen. Then, she turned and stared through its square of glass like Faye Mae was some wild animal on the prowl.

  “That girl is upset,” announced Faye Mae.

  “We don’t really care,” replied Lee. “We’re Big Jim’s guests, and they know that. Enjoy your birthday present.”

  “I wonder why nobody else is in here. I’ve never seen Barclay’s empty before.”

  “Don’t worry about that either,” Lee said. “Worry about how you’re going to eat all this sundae.”

  The blond girl sat a huge paper cup, filled above the rim with ice cream and chocolate syrup, in front of Faye Mae. In front of Lee, she sat a pretty glass dish that sparkled with vanilla ice cream, chocolate syrup and cherries atop it. Faye Mae’s sundae lacked cherries.

  “Young lady, I believe you mixed up our orders.” Lee’s voice was quiet and firm. “I believe Big Jim was explicit in the directions he gave your manager.”

  Rolling her eyes, the blond quickly swapped the two sundaes. “Don’t tell anyone I did that,” she said before heading back to the kitchen to resume her position behind the door.

  Digging into the rich whipped cream and cherries, Faye Mae knew this was the best birthday she was ever going to have in her entire life, even if Big Jim did make it happen and even if Daddy Ray and Claire weren’t there to see it.

  GRANNY’S SCREAMS woke Faye Mae before midnight. Before she could get her feet on the cold wooden floor, Daddy Ray was barging into her bedroom, and she smelled the Southern Comfort before he pulled on the overhead light.

  “Get up. Granny needs you,” he slurred, almost falling on top of her.

  Faye Mae knew Daddy Ray drank, but this was the first time she’d ever seen him drunk, and it scared her to death. No doubt he’d discovered she’d been sitting up in Barclay’s Drugstore having a hot fudge sundae. Maybe he was drunk because it would make it easier for him to kill her. He certainly was mad enough.

  Faye Mae ran to Granny, who sat in her rocking chair with a photo frame clutched to her breast. Her salt and pepper hair, normally brushed smooth and knotted into a bun, stood out around her head in clumps where she had run her hands through it. The chair’s rockers beat a steady whamp whamp on the hard floor in time with her crying and wailing.

  “Lord, young’un, what’re we going to do? It’s the end. The end.” Granny reached out a hand to pull Faye Mae closer, but she was reluctant to let eithe
r adult lay hands on her until she knew what they’d heard about the Barclay’s Drugstore incident.

  “I’m sorry, Granny. I know I shouldn’t have done it. I didn’t mean for anything bad to happen.”

  Granny’s feet halted the rocker’s rhythm. She lunged from the chair, but Faye Mae was quicker. Granny threw her hands heavenward as though praying an incantation. “Please, Lord, reveal to me what this child had to do with the killing of my beloved baby, Levon. Reveal it to me here and now, Lord, and if she deserves it, strike her dead for what’s she’s done!”

  Levon was dead? Faye Mae ran to her grandmother, burying her head into the soft bosom.

  “I didn’t do anything to Levon. I thought you were talking about something else. Please, please don’t let Levon be dead.”

  Granny tilted Faye Mae’s chin upward until their eyes met.

  “Child, your brother is as dead as my womb. They found his body tonight out near the river, strung up like they always do us.” Her hold tightened on Faye Mae. “Now tell me the truth if you knew one single thing to do with that!”

  “I didn’t Granny. I swear I didn’t.” Tears poured from Faye Mae’s eyes. “I loved Levon. You know that Granny.”

  “Well, then why were you so afraid and all ready to confess?”

  Faye Mae closed her eyes and took a deep breath, preparing herself to meet Levon in the hereafter.

  “Because I went into Barclay’s Drugstore in Greenville this afternoon and had a hot fudge sundae. Lee took me. He made me go, but I knew you wouldn’t like it. I’m sorry, Granny. I’m so sorry.”

  “Lee? You say he took you?”

  “Yessum. He said Levon had Big Jim set it all up for my birthday so it would be okay and they wouldn’t throw me outta there. It must have been true because the white people were as nice as pie to me. Lee said Levon couldn’t come because he had to get Big Jim to set it up.”

  Granny let go of Faye Mae, then suddenly reached her arms around her, drawing her into a tight hug.

  “Oh, child, child, child,” Granny murmured, stroking the little girl’s hair. “I want you to tell Daddy Ray this. It’s his evil that’s done this. His and Big Jim’s. Not you.”

  LEVON WAS BURIED in the graveyard where most of Granny’s relatives had been taken since they were freed. At the end of the service, Daddy Ray left Granny’s side to speak to Big Jim, who’d arrived with his new chauffeur, a light-skinned young man from Greenville. The two old men shook hands and hugged, burying the truth behind Levon’s murder deeper than his coffin in the Delta dirt.

  Granny grabbed Faye Mae’s hand, yanking her along past the two men as they headed to the Caddie.

  “Laura Mae, I’ll be along to the Dew Drop in just a minute,” Daddy Ray said to Granny.

  Granny didn’t veer from her course, and her eyes never rested on Daddy Ray again after that moment. “Don’t trouble yourself, Ray, you stay here with your kind. You’ll never be needed at the Dew Drop again, ya hear?”

  LEVON HAD BEEN IN THE GROUND five weeks when Miss Harding announced to Faye Mae’s class that President Kennedy had been shot, and students were being released early. The cloudy November day matched Faye Mae’s spirits as she walked into the Dew Drop. Since Levon’s death, Granny had taken to the living room sofa rather than sit in her rocking chair, and she was there now, watching news reports from Dallas about President Kennedy.

  As darkness fell, Faye Mae heated a can of soup for Granny. Several hours later, the bowl of soup remained untouched. Granny hadn’t said a full sentence since Faye Mae got home from school.

  “Granny, you need to eat something. I’ll heat this soup back up.”

  Before Faye Mae got to the kitchen door, a familiar voice sounded across the room.

  “I did not shoot the President. I’m asking an attorney to come forward to represent me. I’m a patsy.” Lee’s voice was soft but clear. Faye Mae hurried to look at the television.

  Handcuffed and standing in the Dallas Police Department, Lee was surrounded by angry-looking policemen and unruly reporters who kept flashing cameras at him. His eye was blackened.

  “Oh, Lord, my Lord.” Granny gripped her old rag quilt tightly around her. “I knew that man brought nothing but the Devil’s trouble. I knew it. I knew it.”

  “I WANT TO GO UP TO THE FRONT DOOR, ya hear?” Granny insisted.

  Granny’s feet barely held on the icy lawn of Daddy Ray’s white house. Ever since Levon and President Kennedy had died, Granny had been sinking out of life. Faye Mae held tightly to her arm, guiding her. Faye Mae had barely knocked against the leaded glass door before it was opened. Claire, wearing a black velvet dress with black velvet bows in her blond hair, stood solidly in the opening, staring at her and Granny like they were beggars.

  “Claire, darlin’, now you get on back to your room while I take care of these folks,” said the large black woman dressed in a white uniform, who descended a huge staircase just beyond the door. Claire stood rooted like one of Granny’s pecan trees. “Shoo now, missy!”

  Turning up her pert nose without speaking, Claire retreated. The door swung wide for them. The black woman smiled and gently waved them towards the stairs. “Doc Brumfield says you got just a little time ‘fore he passes.”

  Daddy Ray laid in the biggest bed Faye Mae had ever seen, surrounded by mounds of white pillows. Rex was sprawled across the foot of it, and he raised his head to greet Faye Mae. The room’s heavy blue curtains were drawn against the winter day. A fire burned low in the fireplace, and the maid moved to stoke it back to a blaze. A bandage as white as her uniform covered Daddy Ray’s bare chest.

  The maid had found Daddy Ray seconds after she heard the gunshot from his study. Even so, he couldn’t survive the self-inflicted wound.

  Granny stopped a good two feet from the edge of the bed. “We’re here, Ed Ray, what do you want with us?” she demanded.

  Daddy Ray’s eyes flickered, then tried to focus on them. “Need to know truth,” he barely got out.

  “Well, you’d be the last one to see about that,” Granny snorted, leaning more onto her walking stick.

  “Levon. He knew too much,” Daddy Ray wheezed before a coughing fit brought the nurse to his side. She turned him slightly, then backed away again. Daddy Ray looked to Faye Mae. “When did you find the gun?”

  Granny beat her walking stick against the floor. “Ed Ray, shut up your nonsense. This girl don’t know nothin’ about a gun. You’re out of your head!”

  Daddy Ray’s eyes pleaded to Faye Mae until she hung her head in shame.

  “I went looking in the barn. It was under his cot. I wanted to know what y’all were up to,” Faye Mae admitted.

  “So she found a gun. What does that mean?” Granny shouted.

  Daddy Ray took in a breath that rattled on the way out of his chest. “Lee told Big Jim. That’s why Levon died. He knew too much …” The coughing began again, and Faye Mae smelled death, like when Levon used to bring home dead squirrels in a gunny sack.

  “Faye Mae was supposed to have died too. Instead, he took her to Barclay’s.”

  Faye Mae sputtered. “But he said Big Jim set it all up. There was nobody else there. They served me. Only Big Jim …”

  “Hush, young’un!” Granny spat. “For once in your life! Be quiet!”

  Daddy Ray lifted a hand, motioning her to the bed. “Things … never … what … they … seem.” Daddy Ray’s chest rose and fell beneath the bandage. Quiet blanketed the room.

  Granny stepped forward and touched Daddy Ray’s arm while Faye Mae squeezed his hand, willing him to hang on.

  Daddy Ray’s voice was thready and weak. “I’m … sorry … Laura Mae. He was … my boy, too.”

  Daddy Ray’s eyes fluttered, then rolled halfway down. Faye Mae watched his eyeballs glaze into nothingness.

  5 Blind, Crippled, and Crazy

  Bill Fitzhugh

  1959

  WADE EASLEY was in the Whites Only car when the Delta Eagle left Memphis with fifty-eight
passengers on board. A wormy man with one lazy eye, he wore a grey suit and took a seat by the window, his briefcase clutched in his lap like a paperweight to keep him from blowing away.

  The train crossed the Mississippi on the Harahan Bridge then tacked south through Arkansas with stops in Helena, McGehee, and Lake Village, just across the river from Greenville, Mississippi where Wade Easley had some business.

  He was one of twelve passengers to get off in Lake Village. It was hotter than he had expected, more humid too, with the sun coming down at the same angle from which one is bludgeoned to death. As he waited on the platform for the porter to hand down his suitcase, Mr. Easley dabbed his forehead with a handkerchief and wondered why anyone would live here voluntarily. He thought about how good a cold beer would taste and hoped he wasn’t in one of those counties that didn’t sell alcohol.

  What happened next happened suddenly. A man wearing sunglasses and a thick mustache bumped into him roughly from one side, throwing him off balance. The man grabbed for Mr. Easley as if to make sure he didn’t fall. He quickly apologized and smoothed Mr. Easley’s jacket, asking if he was okay.

  Before Easley could tell the man to watch where he was going, he noticed another man approaching hurriedly, pointing a finger and shouting, “You there! Stop!”

  The man with the mustache tried to run but this second man grabbed him, spun him around. There was a struggle. Wade stepped back, his grip tightening on his briefcase as he watched the fight with his good eye. The man with the mustache threw a punch, knocking the other man to the ground. Then he turned and scrambled into the station.

  The whole thing was over in seconds.

  The porter jumped to the platform to help the second man to his feet, saying, “You want me to call the po-lice, Mister?”

  “No,” the man said, brushing himself off. “No need for that.”

  Wade, unsettled by the sudden and unexpected violence, gathered himself and approached the man to ask what the ruckus was all about.