Honoree started to call his name, but she didn’t want to startle anyone. She also couldn’t recall the last time she had spoken a word in front of a white man—and with a belly full of hooch, tonight was not the night to spread that particular wing.
Another bout of spinning vision and she leaned against the nearest wall, but something struck her about Houdini. He wasn’t as cheerful as the man Trudy described. The big smile was missing, and the way he hopped from one foot to the other, panicked and fearful.
The white men wore fedoras and long wool coats, and one held a newspaper under his arm. She couldn’t quite figure out what made them scary, other than being white men in a black-and-tan at five o’clock in the morning. But the more she watched, the more she realized they were not the type to welcome an interruption from a Negro chorus girl.
Even a New Negro had her limitations when it came to white men.
Maybe it was not such a good idea, delivering the envelope. Houdini was caught up in something that looked incredibly unpleasant, possibly dangerous. She inched backward, thinking it best to retreat, but her footing was unsteady. She crumpled to the floor, landing on her knees.
God, she hoped she hadn’t made any noise and attracted their attention. She lifted her head, praying they weren’t looking her way. Relief fell over her like cool rain.Nothing to worry about. Whatever they said to one another was more important than her drunken clumsiness. They weren’t paying attention to her, and besides, she was in the dark.
A ceiling light hung on a chain over the bar. The two white men were visible, but suddenly the conversation exploded, and their words were coarse and angry.
Every bone, muscle, and thought in Honoree’s body begged her to flee, but curiosity and too much gin locked her to the spot.
One of the white men planted his elbows on the bar and leaned forward—nose to nose with Houdini, whose face glistened with sweat.
“You’re a goddamned lie, nigga.”
No mistaking those words—trouble was coming.
Honoree crawled behind the nearest table, using the floor-length tablecloth as a shield.
Houdini yelled, swearing he had no clue what they were talking about.
A loud whack. The sound of fist on flesh burst through the hall. Honoree leaned sideways to get a better view.
The taller of the two men reached over the bar and took hold of Houdini’s shirt collar. The barkeep wailed, “What do you want? Why do you want to hurt me?”
The man holding on to Houdini’s shirt shoved him away, cursing and pacing, stalking Houdini as if he were prey. He said something she couldn’t understand. The other man said something, too.
Then they screamed at Houdini.
“Move your ass! Fat boy! I said move your ass!”
Honoree’s palms sweat, and her heart pounded in her ears. What did these men want from him? Why didn’t they just leave him be?
One white man lifted his arm; the newspaper fell to the floor. He had a tommy gun; the barrel pointed at Houdini.
Honoree’s hand flew to cover her mouth and stop the scream crushing her windpipe.
Houdini’s features twisted. She should stand, let the white men know she was there. If they knew, they would leave Houdini alone and go back to where they came from.
No. If she made her presence known, they’d kill her, too. She crouched lower.
“I swear I don’t have it. I don’t have nothin’ that belongs to you!” Houdini still stood behind the bar. “I don’t know nothin’ about that. I swear. Lord Jesus. I swear.”
“You’re lying to me, boy.”
“I ain’t! I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Houdini shook his head hard and couldn’t stop shaking it. “Dear God. Don’t shoot me. Don’t shoot me. Please.”
The corners of Honoree’s eyes burned, but she was unable to look away. The white man waved the tommy gun’s barrel at Houdini like he was teasing him with death.
The barkeep raised his hands above his head, his face a twisted mask of fear and sweat. “I’ll make you a deal. I’ll get you what you want. I’ll square it with you. I swear.”
The white men turned their heads, glancing at each other. The gun barrel stopped waving. “You should’ve done what you were supposed to do in the first place, barkeep.”
Gunfire shredded her eardrums.
