Maxie and Misty awoke in the same bed. “If we go out the way we’re dressed people will think we’re nudists,” Maxie joshed.
“You treat a woman like a woman.”
“And you have some chassis.”
Later, At the Ferry Landing Sheriff’s Office, Fullerton walked to the wall telephone. He held the earpiece to his ear, and turned the handle. “Christine, would you please get me KL5437?” he said to the operator, “it’s Maxie’s Diner.”
“Maxie’s Diner,” the diner owner said into the mouthpiece of the candlestick model.
“This is Fullerton down the sheriff’s office.”
“What can I do for you?”
“Your friend Kramer has some doctored photographs of the reverend and me,” Fullerton said. “I repeat the photographs are doctored.” Maxie smirked toward Clarence. “Why would I care if he sent photographs to his doctor?” he asked.
“No, I mean trick photographs or special photographs.”
“By that do you mean those new things called X-rays?” Maxie said with a smirk. “I mean those X-rays are wonderful things …”
“No, I don’t mean that, I mean pictures that look like we’re in a bathroom.”
“Kramer is supposed to give X-rays to his doctor in a bathroom?”
“No, I mean he took pictures of me in a men’s room.”
“I’m really having trouble hearing you,” Maxie said, “did you say that Kramer is supposed to give X-rays of you and the reverend in a bathroom?”
“Never mind,” Fullerton said before hanging the earpiece. Maxie hung his earpiece. “Goon,” he muttered.
The telephone rang. “Maxie’s Diner,” he said into the mouthpiece.
“We have a call from Great Neck, New York for Miss Misty McAllister,” Christine said. Maxie rolled his eyes. “Wait a minute,” he said. He called Misty to the telephone. “It’s probably your rich father,” he said.
Misty took the phone. “This is Misty,” she said. “Hi, Daddy.”
“I understand that you went out on a date with a person of a lower tax bracket!”
“Yes I did and he paid for all but the tickets to the dance. He got those from a friend.”
“I read about this Maxwell Thermopolis in the New York Times this morning and it seems he is associating with undesirable people!” Mr. McAllister said. “I do not want you to socialize with him!” She was perplexed. “Can you give me the byline on that story?” she asked. She waited for him to glance at the newspaper. “It says the name of Walter Kramer!” he replied.
“I think Maxie is the bee’s knees daddy.”
“Furthermore I do not like you using the vernacular like that it’s demeaning!”
“He may use the vernacular but Maxie is quite the gentleman and he even opened the car door for me last night!”
“You had your choice of men right here on Long Island and each of them was a better suitor!”
“I don’t want any of those snobs who live the life of the Great Gatsby!”
“Who is this Great Gatsby?”
“He’s the main character in a novel by F. Scott Fitzgerald and he lives a life with fake friends who do not even know he’s dead when he dies and he lives where you are.”
“This man probably has a ring around the bathtub from the way he makes gin!”
“Maxie does not drink, smoke, or use any illegal substances unlike half the dope addicts at your parties!”
“What is dope?”
“It means drugs stronger than alcohol like cocaine!”
“We do not do anything illegal out here!” he shouted. She leaned her head to one side.
“Then what’s that little vile in your walking stick for?” she asked. “Do you drink apple juice?” Mr. McAllister was taken aback. “You don’t see what your guests are snorting up their noses!” she went on. “And Maxwell Tiberius Thermopolis Junior would evict people for that!”
“May I please have the telephone?” Maxie hollered. She handed him the phone. “Mr. McAllister, I can assure you that your daughter is safe with me,” he said, “I just have this crooked sheriff who says I’m doing something I’m not doing.”
“I do not believe you should be around my daughter.”
“If you want to come down and meet me, Mr. McAllister, then you may and at your earliest convenience.”
“You sound like a decent man,” Mr. McAllister said, “I think I will get to know you and not be so judgmental.”
“Thank you, Mr. McAllister.”
“You’re welcome and I liked that you used the word ‘please’ when asking for the telephone.”
“He may have changed to moving the stuff by day,” Harrison said as his force walked to their cars, “that’s why we have to get to that diner.” They were outside the hotel.
The Ferry Landing Sheriff’s Car stood outside Maxie’s Diner waiting to make sure that the sham was still happening. “We wait for that reporter,” Fullerton said, “we wait for that reporter.”
“What does he look like?” Chase asked.
“How am I to know? I never saw him.”
“You didn’t even see the guy when he took the picture.”
“He took it in secret.”
“He took it in secret and then put the preacher in it.”
“He used an enlarger and some cardboard to do it.”
“Are you sure he has one of those.”
“I think I saw it at his hotel.”
Walter rode in the passenger seat of Clarence’s 1920 Nash coupe as it turned over the curb. “That’s the guy who works with the diner owner in that car isn’t it?” Fullerton asked. Chase craned his neck. “Yes it is,” he replied, “I think that may be the reporter.”
“I think he’s just someone I saw at the revival the first night.”
“Who did you see him with?”
“They were with that jerk Thermopolis.”
“Could that be the guy?” Chase said. Fullerton was the first to step out of the car. “I want to find out,” he said, “I really want to find out.” Walter and Clarence noticed that the deputies were walking toward them. “Here come the bulls,” Clarence said, “they’re on their way over to us.” They understood that there was going to be trouble. “I want to talk to you two about that picture if you took it,” Fullerton said, “you better not be planning to cause trouble with it.”
“That picture is a problem for you,” Walter said, “a real problem for you.”
“You’re the one that doctored the picture,” Chase said. Walter began to laugh. He and Clarence walked into the diner. “You were the one in the stall and you have him believing that!” Walter called back, “He can be sold the Brooklyn Bridge!” They were inside the diner. “Those are bulls are causing us trouble,” Clarence said, “they just stopped us from coming in here.”
Maxie stepped outside and up to the deputies. “While you’re out here you better not bother my customers or workers,” he said, “I don’t want the sheriff’s torpedoes in front of my joint, get it?” He pointed to the sheriff’s car. “On second thought you both get in that Tin Lizzy and scram!” he shouted. They stood in defiance. “I said scram and don’t come back without a warrant!” Maxie screamed. “He can hold onto the picture as long as he wants!” The deputies strolled back to their car but did not enter. “Keep away from this place!” Maxie shouted. “What happens in here is none of your beeswax!”
The BOI cars rolled up to the diner. “Are these two troubling you, Mr. Thermopolis?” Harrison asked. Maxie was unsure of the situation. “Yes these two big sixes are causing me a lot of trouble,” Maxie said. “That’s my beef with all of you.”
“As long as we are working together you have to get used to all of us,” Harrison said, “but we are here to relieve these guys.”
“Then why did you ask if they causing trouble?”
“I wanted to see your reaction to that question, Mr. Thermopolis, after you had us trailing you all over town!”
“Dry up, Harrison,” Maxie said before walking away and into his business. He stepped into the kitchen. “This has been one swell weekend,” he said sarcastically, “on Thursday night I have a Tommy gun in my face because some goon made a mistake then my best friend comes running in here and I almost get killed by some goons in a Lincoln.” He slumped against the refrigerator. “A crooked sheriff pays me a visit and leaves me with broken glass,” he went on, “then they ransack my best friend’s store and like the nice guy I am I let him hideout in my house only to find out he’s a fag.” He slid down to the floor. “I talk about the sheriff to the local bunch of federal Keystone Cops and they don’t believe me,” he continued, “the goon that killed my father shows up acting like someone from the Bible Belt.” He was lying on the floor. “The sheriff from the next town shows the federal men a picture of the guy and I’m not a ‘credible witness,’” he went on, “I go out on a date with a drag queen and his daddy as lookouts only to be followed by nuts in Model T Fords.” He sat up. “Now we have that photograph and nuts that are after it!” he shouted. “God should I die now or should I ask questions first?” Clarence leaned over his boss. “I hate to tell you, Maxie,” he said, “but our Guy’s John just backed up.” Maxie collapsed to the floor. “This day is looking up,” he said ironically, “this day is looking up.” Maxie rose from the floor and took the mop. “Clarence, do yourself a favor and don’t have my life,” he commented, “call the plumber.”
Gray looked at the tent. “I will kill that diner owner if he recognizes me,” he said to himself, “that I will do.” He removed a Colt M 1911 pistol from his pocket and checked the magazine. “Not tonight,” he said, “but after the revival.”
Walter did not carry copies of the photographs in his pocket. After the last one was appropriated by the wrong people, he did not want to take a chance. “They came out,” he said, “I think I should tell BOI.” Clarence placed a tall stack of pancakes on the counter before him. “I think that maybe you should,” Clarence said, “maybe you should.”
Clarence glanced toward the window. “Maxie!” he hollered. “We have company!” Maxie noticed the two 1924 Chevrolet one ton pickup trucks take a position in front of the diner with their passengers and drivers dressed in Klan uniforms. “Clarence you better scram and let me handle this!” Maxie shouted. “Or at least hide in the kitchen!” Clarence knew better. “You better just keep them from coming in here!” he shouted. “Let me handle the rest!” He raced around the diner, stopping only to remove a lead pipe from the passenger’s seat of his car. Maxie stood before the diner. There were ten men in the trucks. Unseen, Clarence raced behind them.
“We’ve seen you in the balcony yesterday with the apes,” one of them said, “I also understand that you have a dinge working for you.” Maxie shrugged. “So what if I do?” he asked. Again, he was faced with a Thompson submachine gun only inches from his nose. “Maybe I should run a special,” he remarked, “one free cup of Joe for every Tommy gun I’m on the wrong end of.”
It was then that the Langston Sheriff’s Car rolled into the parking lot. Bud Clarke stepped from the driver’s side with his revolver leveled. “If you shoot him I shoot all of you,” he said, “I know you’re all from Langston so if you don’t want to end off in the pokey then you better go back across the town line.” Joey exited with his revolver leveled. “I agree with him!” he shouted. “Scram and get back across the town line!” Clarence, who was not yet noticed, turned the pipe so that it resembled a large gun. “I’ll shoot you too,” he said, “I will too.” The man stepped back to the trucks without lowering the Thompson. “Boys and I think that’s the term I should use for you all,” Maxie said, “I don’t like guns but this time I’ll absolutely make an exception!”
The leader peered directly at Maxie. “I’m a White!” he shouted. “And I’m proud to be a White!” Maxie peered to the man. “I’m a White Guy,” he shouted while pointing to Clarence, “and you’re what people like my friend Clarence here call a Peckerwood!” Maxie’s pluck and the guns facing them caused the Klansmen to race into their trucks. There was stunned silence and disbelief as the trucks drove off. Everyone stared at Maxie. “I don’t believe I ever heard someone of your color ever use that word,” Clarence said. Maxie shrugged. “There’s a first time for everything,” he remarked, “and I think they deserve it.” He shook his head. “Sometimes you have to use the unexpected,” he said, “that does not describe anybody else here.” They all walked into the diner. “My uncle told me that you were overflowing with audacity,” Clarence said, “and now I believe him.”
Maxie entered the diner. “It seems like everything is as usual here at Maxie’s,” he said, “but I always think that’s unusual for everywhere else.”
Rumor spread around the town about Maxie’s choice of words. No one could believe that even he would use that type of word for somebody. “I even didn’t believe what I heard,” Misty said, “it’s about time someone stood up to those guys.”
“All it stands for is a white person of a lower stature and that describes no white man I know,” Maxie said, “that’s except for those flat tires and they make me want to upchuck.”
That afternoon, Maxie was attending services at Mother of Jesus Church. The mass was in Latin, which he learned as a boy. In the back of the church after the mass he decided to respond to some of the whispers he heard in the pews. “For crying out loud it’s about time one of us described a KKK member as a Peckerwood,” he shouted, “take a look at the terms they use for everybody else!” However, many people of all races agreed with him about that particular group. They were from a lower class since they lived out of their trucks. They would no longer allow them in the town. Somehow, it all seemed sensible to the people who heard.
Later that day, he called Misty and asked if she would go horseback riding. They were in Langston. They rode two horses from the Langston Dairy. Jenny, the mare, and Harry, the stallion pulled Maxie’s Lunch Wagon before being sold to the dairy. Until the year before, Max and his father would ride the two horses every Sunday. Maxie would ride the both of them afterward. Misty was saddled on Jenny. Maxie was atop Harry.
They stopped in a grove and looked to the remains of a still. “This is where Dad was killed,” he said, “this is the spot.”
“How did it happen?”
“We were just riding and minding our own business when we happened upon it,” he said, “they noticed us and a small amount of shouting started before the gun went bang.” He hated the memory. “I fell off the horse and they thought I was dead so they left me alone,” he went on, “they left the still and I rode back to the sheriff.” He looked to the ground. “I still wish he was here,” he said, “I still wish he was here.”
The tent was full and Reverend Gray was by the altar. He checked his pocket watch. “Time to go,” he said. The band struck up in “Bringing in the Sheaves” as Gray stepped out among the crowd. He looked over the throng and did not see Maxie.
Maxie watched from the rear with Clarence beside him. They were unprepared for the sermon.
He spoke about Maxie and the KKK. He said that despite that Maxie was a hoodlum and should be stopped. He called Maxie a threat to the safety of the community. Maxie looked to Clarence, who also disagreed with the preacher.