Page 67 of Meet Me on Greenwood

"Perfect," Rita said as if she had just finished a masterpiece. "They will be begging us to come in."

Pearl parked the car next to the Dreamland Theater, but we got out and walked behind it into an alleyway. There were some low steps, and an intricately carved red door that Pearl knocked on once, then counted to three before knocking three more times. We waited for a few minutes, and I almost asked if we were in the right place, but then the door opened a crack. I could not see anything inside.

"Password?" a man asked quickly.

"I heard the catfish was frying tonight," Pearl answered.

The door opened and a broad-shouldered man in a nicely tailored suit invited us in. "Come on in, Pearl and friends."

He led us through a narrow hallway that resembled a wine cellar, only the shelves were empty. Our footsteps echoed as we walked deeper into the room, until we reached the kind of metal door that you would expect to see at a bank. He repeated the same knock Pearl had used on the red door, but with three repetitions instead of two.

A small window opened, and I heard sounds of muffled music and laughter. "Password?"

"The fish is on fire."

"Then come on in before it burns," another man said, opening the door. As it swung open, we were greeted by sultry notes of jazz.

A cloying haze of perfume and cigarette smoke filled the dark room. The smell seemed to have soaked into wallpaper over the years, and a full jazz band was playing on a low stage at the far end of the room. Brass trumpets gleamed, creating a rhythm separate, but somehow harmonious, with the drums and trombone. People were dancing, and it wasn’t the careful, restrained dancing at a church social. It was uninhibited and joyful. Bodies rubbed against each other as palms slid under men’s suit jackets and hands cupped low on a woman’s back. It reminded me of that scene in Dirty Dancing when Baby enters the lodge to find the staff grinding on each other. The only thing missing was Patrick Swayze and that song ‘Do You Love Me.’

The room was bigger than the entrance had suggested. Low ceilings with brass fixtures cast everything in amber. Waitresses moved between them in dresses fitted with rows of small holsters at the waist, each one cradling a flute of champagne, patrons reaching out to pluck a glass as they passed without breaking conversation. There was a lengthy bar that ran the width of the room with people crowded around it in their finery. What shocked me the most was the fact that this was an integrated establishment.

I marveled as white and Black people mingled together, some kissing in dark corners, others gambling or crowded together in their finest. At the bar, men and women laughed with their heads thrown back, completely unguarded.

Rita turned to me with excitement. "Isn’t it marvelous?"

"It seems dangerous," I said, watching two men make out at the entrance of the coat closet. I wondered what would happen to them if they were ever caught.

"A little," Pearl said. "But only if we get raided ,which is unlikely because all the speakeasies give a cut to the sheriff’s department. I’m headed back to the tables to win a little money. Ya’ll stay out of trouble."

"We will," Rita said, peering over the crowd.

"Are you looking for someone?" I asked.

"Just seeing if there is anyone we know here."

I watched the way she smoothed her dress nervously and pulled out her compact to check her lipstick.

I crossed my arms. "We are here to meet a man?"

Her eyes sprang open. "No," she said defensively.

"That is where you were at the carnival. You were with someone?"

Rita grabbed a flute of champagne and took a large swig to give her time to think about her answer. I picked up my own drink and waited.

"Okay, yes. I’m here to see someone."

"Great. What is his name and where is he?"

She frowned.

"Come on. You owe me this much after I took the fall for you."

Rita pursed her lips. "Bernie," she whispered, as if Camille was listening at her shoulder.

"That sounds like he’s tall, dark, and handsome. Where is this Bernie? Do you see him?"

"I don’t see—" she paused, a grin slowly forming on her face.