PALM CITY CAFE - EXCERPT NO. 2 FROM "HEIRLOOM"

The moon looked lopsided to Jimmy Sweetfields through the half opened shutters, as he made love to Anna. His passions were inexhaustible. When he finally succumbed to his weakness for her, it felt like the whole sky; the stars, the blackness, and the half-full moon were melting all over them.

All though the moon wasn’t quite full yet, it was still influencing things. He could feel it in the love they made, and the undertow of anger he couldn’t quite shake no matter how sweet she was.

Jimmy got dressed for the night, as always in his signature all white. He took his time precisely tucking his white linen shirt into the trousers of his white linen suit. Next came the jacket, then the white silk handkerchief with his embroidered initials posed perfectly in his vest pocket to reveal his initials: JS. White silk socks, and his favorite pair of two-toned ivory leather wingtips. Getting dressed was his power ritual. His wardrobe validated his status in Palm City.

Standing in front of the mirror, he made the necessary adjustments before completing the ritual with the final touch. He wore his blocked Panama Fedora cocked slightly to the right, but tonight as he stood admiring the completed picture, he caught a glimpse of Anna Lucille’s sadness as she lay in bed listening to Bessie Smith on the Victrola and secretly crying. It tortured him to see her that way, but he knew he only had himself to blame for the way things were. But as hard he tried he couldn't help his love for money. He pained him to admit that he loved his wealth more than he loved her. At least he thought he did. To relieve his guilt, he brought her expensive gifts. She had the only phonogram player on the Colored side of town, special ordered from C. J. Duncan's General Store. But the gifts he gave her weren’t enough to drown out the truth that he was using his own wife to feed his greed.

It was his grand idea that they keep their marriage a secret. Reluctantly she went along with his scheme of play-acting, pretending she was a single woman in public, while back home in their bed she’d be his faithful wife again. He maintained a flawless public facade to mask his private anguish. The truth of the matter is the whole thing was eating him up inside. So much so he barely had an appetite these days, so he drank instead. Lately, he couldn’t sleep without passing out from too much to drink.

Anna Lucille saw the toll the whole thing was taking on her husband; the drinking, the dark circles under his eyes, and that new mean streak he was carrying around in his spirit. But the only thing she could do was pray.

Jimmy Sweetfields watched with contempt as Anna Lucille prepared her alter with love candles. A growling noise came from his stomach, and he belched.

“You need to stop drinking so much Jimmy,” said Anna Lucille softly. “That’s why your stomach is so messed up.”

Jimmy didn’t say a word as he watched her lighting the red candle. His eyes stayed fixed on her near perfect mouth as she blew out the match, closed her eyes and began praying. But he couldn’t control the surge of anger that rose up in his chest.
“What you praying for?” He asked in a contemptible tone.

“For us,” she answered, looking at him innocently. She turned back to her candle and closed her eyes again.

“The last time you lit one of your damn candles, the mayor of Palm City his self, made a drunken fool outta his self over you.” Jimmy could feel his blood beginning to boil. “How you think that made me feel? Huh? A White man actin’ the fool over my wife.”

“You hear me talkin’ to you woman?” Jimmy roared. The tone in his voice made Anna’s eyes pop open. “You screaming loud enough for the whole town to hear you.” She answered angrily.

“I don’t give a damn who hear me.” But even as the words came out of his mouth, she knew he didn’t mean what he was saying, but his anger frightened her, and as he crossed the room and slammed the shutters closed, she kept him in the corner of her eye. He grabbed his gun, stuffed it in his belt, and left.

A tropical wind blew off the ocean, filling the city streets with the smell of the sea mixing with the scent of honeysuckle and magnolia blossoms. The convergence of these ancient elements made up the lethal mixture that was at the very core of the throbbing aches and pains of the black soul , and nearly everything that took place on the Colored side of town in Palm City. It was Saturday night and the air was thick and humid, and things were heating up on Elderberry Avenue.

The ladies in waiting stood side by side like queens of spades, leaning languidly over the second floor balcony banister at Jimmy Sweetfields' Elderberry Avenue Hotel & Café. Their bright satin colored dresses looked like a rainbow of reds, oranges, purples, and yellows, as their pouting painted lips promised pleasures most could only dream about. The men passing on the street below, looked up at the women with stares that said more than words could ever say. But the women standing on the balcony of Jimmy Sweetfields’ Hotel & Café never took a look for more than it meant; a need for somebody to love. But everybody knew if you wanted something to happen on Elderberry Avenue on Saturday night, you better have some money in your pocket or you might as well just keep right on walking. It was a sad affair for those who didn't have the price to pay for their desires. Still, in spite of their empty pockets, they'd call out to the ladies in waiting.

"Hey baby, don't you want a man like me?"

It was a question in search of the fulfillment of a wet dream that never came true, 'cause the colored women leaning over the balcony banister atop the Elderberry Avenue Hotel & Cafe had seen the insides of empty pockets enough times to know better than to be fooled by sugarcoated words.

“Ain’t nobody studyin' 'bout yo' broke self. Take yo' funky blues, keen toed shoes, high water pants, Sad'dey night dance, ain’t got a dollar for a drank of soda water, lookin’ for anybody's daughter, on away from heah.”

A chorus of laughter rang out from the balcony, filling the night air like musical notes, as the ladies of the night went on about their business, waving their red handkerchiefs at the sailors walking up from Port Street, looking for somebody to share their money with. That’s the way things were on Elderberry Avenue, when hot summer nights sizzled.

But the steaming story of the summer was Jimmy Sweetfields' and Anna Lucille, and their secret love affair.

It was Saturday night, and the place was packed. Jimmy Sweetfields sat at the bar drinking, and watching his wife laughing, and talking to a group of men on the other side of the café. It drove him crazy, the way she never got enough of his hard chiseled physique, especially when it reeked of hot sweat and passion. And by the same sensuous token, he couldn’t get enough of her. His eyes never tired of looking in hers, especially when they burned with desire, and passion, and nothing else mattered except their hot bodies melting into one. She was everything to him; his lover, and the drawing card for his businesses. Her stunning Creole beauty kept money in his pockets, more money than he ever dreamed of. It amazed him how men would spend their last dollar just to get close enough so they could smell her perfume. And so for the sake of profits, he justified keeping their marriage a secret. It was the perfect deception, and the more they hid their love from the world, the more she wanted him, and the more he wanted her.

He felt guilty for the way he had been treating her lately, and as he drank, he talked to himself.

“Damn fool, you keep on treatin’ her mean, she goin’ to leave you. Look at her, got all of ‘em actin’ like a pack of hungry dogs, sniffin’ ‘round her.”

He called out to the bartender loud enough for Anna Lucille to hear him. “Hey bartender! You done forgot ‘bout the boss man down here.” His eyes stayed on her like a hawk watching a chicken. He drank down the double shot of whiskey in one gulp. A warm feeling rose from his stomach to his head. His liquor was starting to take affect. When he looked back over at his wife, something incredible happened. Like magic, she looked more beautiful than ever before. In that instant he wanted her more than he ever wanted her. The men gawking at her made him desire her even more. He sneered at how they would give their last dollar just see her smile, when all the while she was his.

Anna Lucille could feel her husband’s eyes on her. He shot arrows of passion at her from every angle, and every chance she got she’d steal a glance at his reflection in the long mirror behind the bar. They took turns touching each other with a their eyes, playing their secret love game until they couldn’t keep it going any longer. He finally sent her the signal she’d been waiting for all night.

She met him at their secret place behind the stage, and from the moment she fell into his arms, the spirit of love was upon them. Possessed by passion, their kisses were long, lustful kisses that made her body limp, and his ridig. He kept his tongue in her mouth so no one could hear her sensuous sighs, and the harder she sucked his tongue, the wilder his passions grew. His hands were locked in a grip around her hips, and when he felt the hot moisture of her womanhood around his manhood, every ounce of blood in his body rushed to his loins, and for eight euphoric minutes, he did his lovers dance, until his knees buckled, and they both exploded in bliss.

He could still smell her perfume on his lapel as he sat back the bar drinking again, and watching her dreamly. Everything about her seduced him. Her hazel eyes with their long eyelashes beckoning him from across the room; her full lips always ready for his, and his eyes that could never get enough of her delicious derrière.

The spell was broken when a man walked over to Anna Lucille, and started talking to her. Jimmy Sweetfields’ heart began beating so hard he felt like it would bust out of his chest. To fan the fires of his jealous passions, he walked across the room, and sat down at the piano and began playing. He knew how much she loved music, especially when he sang to her, and tonight he would do anything to keep her attention focused on him. The moment she heard him playing his bluesy rendition of a Duke Ellington’s Mood Indigo, Anna Lucille spun around to find a big grin on his face, and his big brown sexy eyes sparkling with love. She knew what that look meant, and in that magic moment, the whole world disappeared, and they were the only two people left on earth. As she watched his long slender fingers moving across the piano keys, she imagined how it would feel the next time he touched her. But before they could finish dreaming awake together, a hand reached out from space, and pulled Anna onto the dance floor. Caught by surprise, all she could do was laugh. Suddenly, Jimmy’s world was upside-down again, and the sensual sound of Anna’s laughter mixing with his music, made his whole body toxic with jealousy. That night when they met back at the bungalow, she paid the price for love.

Anna Lucille barely had her foot in the door, when Jimmy grabbed her, and threw her on the bed.

“Why you let that nigguh touch you?” he screamed. “Huh!”
She tried to defend herself, but before she could even opened her mouth, he was on top of her, pinning her hands to the bed. His breath smelled of stale whiskey, and his eyes were bloodshot with rage.

“You hear me talkin’ to you Anna. Huh.” She was too afraid to speak, and when he saw the fear in her eyes, and the tears rolling down her face, he stopped cold.

“Oh baby don’t cry. Don’t cry baby. You know I love you. Daddy didn’t mean it. You know Daddy wouldn't hurt you baby.” The moon disappeared behind a dark cloud, mimicking their motions under the covers. The night went silent, and all the souls in Palm City finally fell asleep.