Chapter 29
“Papa was a rollin’ stone.”
“Excuse me, Mr. Simmons, but is it your policy to intrude on your guest’s privacy?” Johnnie asked.
“Am I intruding? I thought I’d say hello, that’s all.”
“Well, hello and goodbye, Mr. Simmons,” Johnnie said gruffly.
Without a word, Simmons left. As he walked back to the hotel, he thought about them.
This is so typical. Like mother, like daughter. Two tramps. And both of them screw white men for a living. What’s this world coming to?
Looking at Marguerite, Johnnie said, “So, what’s he talkin’ about, you bein’ a guest here from time to time?”
Feeling the pressure of the question, Marguerite decided to change the subject. The best way to do that without too much suspicion would be to tell her about her father. Hopefully, by the time I’m finished, she’ll forget about what he was talking about. If I told her my client was the Grand Wizard of the Klan, and she tells someone, white folk will kill us all.
“I thought you wanted to know about your father.”
“I do.”
“Well, it started when I was fifteen. Just like you, I was given to a white man. I met Michael, Benny’s father, in school, much like your friend Luke.”
“His name is Lucas, Mama.”
“Whatever. Anyway, my mother told me he was no good, but of course I didn’t listen to her and ran away with him to Chicago. We weren’t together two months before I was pregnant with your brother Benny. The next thing I knew, he was gone. Ain’t seen him since. So, there I am in a big city, all by myself. I didn’t know anybody and I didn’t have a dime to my name. So, what did I do?”
“What?”
“I turned to the only thing I knew, whoring. I made enough money to get a bus ticket back to New Orleans. When I walked in the house, my mother just shook her head. She couldn’t wait to tell me, ‘I told you so.’ I just went to my room and cried myself to sleep. When I woke up, we talked about the baby I was carrying. She told me she would help me out if I helped myself. To her, helping myself meant I had to whore. This was all after I had the baby, of course. At first, it was the most humbling thing I ever had to do. Then before I realized it, I was being sought after quite a bit. It was then that I knew I was good at this, much like you mentioned earlier. Unfortunately, I didn’t have the mind my mother had with money. The mind you apparently inherited from her along with her good looks and charm. I just got the good looks and charm. That’s why I don’t have nothin’ to show for it after all this time.”
Johnnie’s eyes welled with water. It was so sad, and she hadn’t heard the worst of it yet, she thought.
“So anyway, I go to Congo Square one night to dance and have a good time. And guess who happened to be playing there that night?”
“Who?”
“Louis Armstrong and the Hot Five.”
“Mama, is it true that Congo Square was set aside in the early 1800s for free and enslaved Coloreds to sing and dance and play their drums?”
“Yes, it sure was.”
“And you met Louis Armstrong there?”
“Well, first I met yo’ daddy. He was the saxophonist in his band. You should have seen him up there on stage with that charcoal-gray zoot suit on; playin’ that saxophone like it would be his last time.” She had a smile on her face but didn’t realize it. “I was standing at the edge of the stage screamin’ like a crazy woman. He saw me, came over, and played to me. He was so handsome. He was a little short, but man, could he play. His name was John Wise.”
“So, y’all named me after him?”
“Yes, he insisted on it. He wanted a boy, but he loved you just the same when we found out I had carried a girl for nine months.”
“So, y’all got married, huh?”
“Yeah, and it was the worst decision I ever made.”
“Worse than runnin’ away with Michael?”
“Oh God, yes. John was a ladies’ man to no end. Sometimes I think he couldn’t help himself. Women was always throwin’ themselves at him. I know you know by now, if there’s one thing a man cain’t do, he cain’t turn down some free pussy. If a woman, any woman, blind, cripple, or crazy open her legs, he gon’ get a piece. That’s why I don’t even bother with love no more. Girl, that thing hurt me so when I found out he was seeing other women on the road. I thought if I traveled with him, he would stop. I was there to give it to him whenever he wanted it. And do you know that nigga was still fuckin’ everything that moved? Then when I did it with Satchmo, all hell broke loose.”
“You did it with Louis Armstrong?” Johnnie asked, totally shocked.
“Yes, Satchmo was always pressin’ up against me. Told me I was finer than sunshine and sweeter than the mornin’ dew. Told me only Dorothy Dandridge was prettier.”
“So, what happened?”
“John found out about it and beat the hell outta me. That’s what happened.”
“Now, wait a minute. That ain’t right. He was doin’ it first, wasn’t he?”
“That don’t matter to a man, Johnnie. A man don’t know how to handle his emotions because of the way they was brought up. A man keeps his emotions deep inside him. It usually takes the death of a loved one for a man to cry. The damn fools. They haven’t figured out that God gave them tear ducts for more than funerals. But anyway, when a man is deeply hurt by a woman, you can count on him beatin’ or even killin’ her for doing the very thing he did to her. And it don’t matter to him how many times he did it. The fact that you did it once is enough to shatter him emotionally. Since he doesn’t know what to do with his pain, he allows his pain to turn to anger. And when that happens, Johnnie, you better get outta there as quick as you can. ’Cause if you don’t, he’s liable to kill you.”
“So, then what happened?” Johnnie asked, completely fascinated by the story she was hearing.
“What happened is him and Satchmo got into it.”
“What?”
“Sho’ did. Busted Satchmo’s lips and loosened some teeth. Satchmo had to cancel a few gigs behind that. He ended up firing yo’ daddy. John told me he was going to start a band of his own. Told me he’d be back in a couple of months. He ain’t been back to New Orleans since.”
Johnnie took a deep breath and let it out slowly, deliberately. She had often wondered what became of her mother and father. Now she knew, and it wasn’t any better than not knowing.
“I would have liked to have met him, Mama,” she said, taking off her shades and wiping her eyes.
Marguerite could see the tearstains on her daughter’s face.
“You cryin’, honey?”
“Yeah. It’s so sad.”
“You understand now why I did what I did with you and Shamus?”
“I understand, Mama, but you’re still wrong for doing it.”
“That may be true, but my heart was in the right place. I just didn’t want you to have to learn life’s hard lessons the way I did. You’re a woman now. The choice is still up to you. Remember me tellin’ you that way back then?”
“Yes, I remember. But how do you expect me to stop now? My reputation is ruined. Besides, I’m deep into my plan now.”
“Yeah, that’s right. You were supposed to tell me about that.”
“You think you slick, Mama.”
“What do you mean?” Marguerite laughed.
“You’re changing the subject again.”
“You don’t need to know everything I do.”
“So, you not gon’ tell me?”
“No. I agreed to tell you about your father, not about the men I see.”
“Fair enough,” Johnnie said, thinking, I’ll just get it outta Mr. Simmons.