“Some trouble,” Ezekiel finished his sentence.
Meanwhile, Bessie was muttering curse words under her breath. Frustrated, Honoree put down her fork. “Please explain.”
Ezekiel sagged back in the chair. “Archie wants to meet at Miss Hattie’s tonight. Gallo wants Dewey handled.”
“Gallo wants him dead,” Jeremiah corrected him.
“And wants Archie to get it done.” Ezekiel pressed his lips together, his eyebrow climbing to a point.
“What does that have to do with you?” Honoree eyed him and then Jeremiah.
“We’ll have more details when we meet with Archie,” Ezekiel replied. “Which is all I know now.”
“Other than Gallo’s mighty pissed at us, too.” Jeremiah picked up his fork but held it midair. “We can’t leave them here, alone.”
“Why not?” Bessie spoke up, squirming in her seat. “I don’t want to go to Miss Hattie’s.” She glanced at Honoree. “We don’t care nothin’ about Dewey’s or Archie’s problems.”
“Archie knows you’re here. That means so does Gallo, and with this mess with Dewey putting Gallo in Capone’s crosshairs, I don’t trust him not to latch out blindly at Archie or—”
“At us.” Jeremiah didn’t hesitate to show his displeasure.
“We just want to keep a close eye on you two until we learn what Archie and Gallo are planning,” Ezekiel said.
“How do they know we’re here?” Honoree raised her hands, palms up.
“Perhaps one of your neighbors saw us put Bessie and you into the pickup truck.”
“Probably Kenny,” Bessie said.
“She’s right,” Honoree remarked. “He sold a few of his paintings to Archie. Jeremiah, you remember him. You met him at the rent party. He likely went to Archie to sell whatever he saved in the fire.” She gulped the last of her coffee. “Does Gallo still want me to dance at the party? After what happened at the Plantation Cafe?”
“You’re not dancing at the party, Honoree. You’re not dancing anywhere until your leg heals.”
“How long will that take?” Honoree drummed her fingernails on the tabletop, but Ezekiel offered no answer. “When my leg heals, I will return to the Dreamland Cafe, and find a place to live.”
“Your leg will take a few weeks, Honoree.”
“It will heal.” Nothing else could happen to her. Nothing else could go wrong. Her leg would heal, and just like that, she’d be back to dancing at the Dreamland Cafe.
Please, Lord. Let the fire be the last of the bad. Let there be nothing but good times ahead. Hear my prayer, Lord. Thank you. Amen.
CHAPTER 42
SAWYER
Monday, July 6, 2015
Ihold on to the railing at the foot of the bed, staring at Honoree, who snores lightly and appears content. I turn to leave, but rustling sheets and her voice stop me.
“Just nodded off.”
“Or were you resting your eyes?” I say. “I’ll come back after you’ve gotten some rest.”
“Yes, I’m tired, but you don’t have to leave. Stay. I’m always tired. Can’t be this old and not feel time passing in your bones, in your skin, behind your eyes. I close ’em so often ’cause they’ve been watching life a long, long time.”
I came for the truth, but perhaps, the only truth that matters is that this old woman is still breathing, talking, thinking. Seeing.
She sighs. “You haven’t talked about your sister lately.”
