Chapter Twenty-Seven

The jealous are possessed by a mad devil

—Johann Kaspar Lavater

The next morning Von called room service for coffee and the local newspaper. In the “Accents” section, Von found a featured interview of Caitlin. The article focused on the reopening of her art gallery, reviewed the recent show, and told of her experiences in Africa. As he read, he sipped slowly at the coffee, his tongue savoring the slight bitterness of the added chicory. Caitlin was brilliant in the interview, of course, and Von marveled at the creative and well-turned phrases she used to promote her gallery and comment on her recent show, Blood Diamonds: My Year in Africa. The writer also praised Von’s collection of paintings and artifacts.

In the article, Caitlin ranted about the usual political issues surrounding Sierra Leone, issues he considered to be exaggerated by a few sensationalist politicians and their media cronies—conflict diamonds, child-soldiers, child-slavery, and amputees. He was amused to read of her intent to promote legislation banning the importation of any diamonds from Sierra Leone until conditions had changed and the land had stabilized.

Von chuckled. What an idealist his Caitlin was. As if laws could change these problems. He studied her black and white photograph.

After breakfast, Von drove to the Lost Bazaar in West Monroe. He couldn’t wait to surprise Caitlin with his appearance. They would go to lunch, then back to his hotel to catch up on things. Entering, he was greeted by the slim, redheaded woman who lived above the gallery.

“Can I help you, sir?” she said.

“Perhaps. Can I see Caitlin?”

“She’s having coffee with her boyfriend at the moment. They should be back any moment. They’re just across the street at the café.”

“Boyfriend?” Von asked.

“Yeah. I remember you. You’re Caitlin’s boss, right? The one that donated the African artifacts.”

“Yes. Who are you?”

“I’m Melissa, Caitlin’s friend. I work here at the gallery with her. Is there any way I can help you?”

“Not at the present time. Please tell Caitlin that Von dropped by to see her.” Von turned away tight-lipped, feeling confusion, and something else that bordered on rage. He crossed Trenton Street and stood at the restaurant window, scanning the tables of customers until his eyes found his Caitlin. The longhaired man he had seen at the gallery sat with her. They were holding hands and talking and looking into each other’s eyes. Von imagined himself marching into the café, wrapping his hands around the man’s throat and throttling him.

Von returned to his car and drove blindly around until he came to a Waffle House. He entered and sat down at the counter. “Coffee please.”

“Sure thing,” the waitress said. She poured and set down a cup. “Cream?”

“Yes. Black coffee or tea is quite an American thing.”

“Where are you from?”

“I’m African.”

“African?”

Von saw the surprise in her eyes. It was an old confusion that he was used to and enjoyed. “Yes, believe it or not, some Africans are white.”

“I knew by the way you talked you weren’t American. Where in Africa are you from?”

“West Africa, Sierra Leone exactly, though I did live for a while in South Africa.”

As Von sipped his coffee, he spotted Hunter’s photograph on the wall behind the counter. He was sure that it was the same man he had just seen with Caitlin.

He nodded his head at the photo. “Who is that?”

“That’s Hunter, my boyfriend.”

“Tell me about your boyfriend.” Von could barely contain his laughter. Her boyfriend? He doubted Caitlin knew about that bit of news! Caitlin had chosen a player.

“Well, I don’t know a lot about him because we just started seeing each other, but he’s a stud. He’s a musician and plays at the Backdoor Lounge. He’s there tomorrow night, in fact.”

“You seem quite taken with this Hunter.”

“Oh, I am.”

He looked at her nametag. “When will you see him again, Veronica?” Von asked.

She bent over and pulled a stack of plates from the dishwasher. “I didn’t tell him, but I’m going to take off tomorrow and meet him at the Backdoor Lounge.”

“I think I may go and hear this new boyfriend of yours play Friday night. If I see you there, I’ll buy you a drink.”

“Great,” she said. “That would be nice.”

No, Von thought. It won’t be nice at all.

****

Von returned to the Lost Bazaar and stood at the door. Caitlin, Melissa, and her black boy were hanging paintings on the gallery’s wall. Caitlin finally noticed him, but he was not pleased with the expression on her face. He walked over to her and held out his arms. “Caitlin!”

She avoided his offered embrace. “Von, what a surprise. How was your trip?”

“Tedious.” He glanced over at Melissa as he lowered his arms.

“Melissa,” Caitlin said. “You remember Von.”

“Oh,” Melissa said. “Actually, I forgot to tell you that he came by earlier. Sorry.”

“Could you excuse us a minute, Melissa?” Caitlin asked. “Why don’t you and Tejan go out to the patio and frame the new painting. Von and I have to talk a moment. It won’t take long.”

“Sure. Come on, Tejan.”

After Melissa and Tejan left, Caitlin said, “Look, Von, I meant to call you, but things were so busy here, I had a million details to attend to, I’ve got Tejan to worry about, and…”

“Then there’s Hunter,” Von said. “Your new boyfriend.”

“How the hell did you know about Hunter?” She looked over at Melissa.

“Don’t worry,” Von said. “Your friend did not betray you.”

“Von, I’m sorry. I’m not very good at things like this.”

“You mean, like leading someone on? I adore you, Caitlin. Come and have dinner with me tonight.”

“I can’t, Von. I have too much to do. I’m in the middle of putting together another show.”

“Tomorrow then. There’s plenty of time. I made arrangements to handle all my business from Monroe so we could have some quality time together.”

“I’m sorry you had to waste your time and money. You should have talked to me first, and not assumed…”

“You don’t mean what you’re saying. You need me, Caitlin.”

“No, Von, I don’t need you. I’m doing fine. Please, don’t pressure me. We had some good times in Africa. Let’s not spoil those memories.”

“You don’t have time for me? You found time to drink coffee for half an hour with your new boyfriend. I understand that a woman has needs for a man now and then. But really, to fall for a second-rate musician? I could make things so much easier for you. You can come back to work for me, then you wouldn’t have to hustle your paintings or give art lessons, just give yourself to your painting.”

“Von, keep your voice down. I like teaching art. And I certainly don’t want to be a kept woman of yours. Make my life easier? I’m beginning to wish I had never met you.”

“I see you haven’t lost your sense of humor or your sense of the melodramatic,” Von said. He looked away in anger, only to have his eyes land on a painting entitled Making a Killing, showing a man with a face much like his own. He looked closer. The man was dressed in a business suit and sat at a rough wood table, counting out diamonds. The table was in the middle of a field of dead people. His smile vanished and his face flushed. “A man’s got to make a living.”

“Actually, in your case, it’s making a killing.”

A lady entered the gallery and stood near the door obviously waiting to speak to Caitlin. Von noticed how Caitlin’s eyes kept shifting impatiently toward her. “You didn’t seem to mind the way I made a living when we had sex,” he said.

Caitlin’s customer turned abruptly and walked out of the gallery.

“Great, Von. Just tell the whole world everything you know. That lady wanted to talk about commissioning a portrait. I think it’s time for you to leave.”

“Caitlin, I’m sorry. What I said was inappropriate. I didn’t mean it.”

“Goodbye, Von.” Caitlin turned to walk away.

“That Hunter is not who you think he is. He has other women on his string besides you.”

She spun around. “Von, jealousy doesn’t become you. You don’t know the first thing about Hunter, or really about me. I screwed up things between Hunter and me once before. I won’t do it again.”

Von heard Tejan laughing outside. “We belong together, Caitlin. Don’t make things difficult for me. I have friends who have influence with the INS whom I could persuade to send your black African son back to Sierra Leone. And I have other friends who could do far worse.”

“Now you’re threatening me? How can you expect me to take your profession of love seriously when you talk to me like that? And you dare to demean Tejan to me? Do you really think bribery and pressure are going to make me love you?”

“I get what I want, Caitlin.”

“Not this time.”

“You prefer that peckerwood guitar player over me?”

“I see you’re picking up the use of Southern idioms. I’m not impressed and I think you need to leave Hunter out of this conversation.”

Von smiled. “It’s hard to have a relationship with a dead man.”

When Caitlin gasped, Von knew he had made the point. He could, and would, do anything to possess her. Genuine terror was etched on Caitlin’s face, and he felt a rush of adrenaline. Von was amazed as to how easily he could read Americans, even his Caitlin. They wore their feelings and thoughts on their faces, without duplicity. Such facial honesty would easily kill a man in Africa.

“I really think it’s time for you to leave,” Caitlin said. She glanced at the gallery door just as Hunter entered.

“Hunter is my boyfriend now,” Caitlin said. “He’s standing at the door waiting. I hope you understand why I don’t want to introduce him to you. Please, just go. If you cause a scene, I will call the police.”

“So, this is your boyfriend. He’s dressed like a slob, so I knew he wouldn’t be a customer. I’ll leave you two alone.” Von passed Hunter as he came in and turned his head in time to see Hunter kiss and embrace Caitlin. A player, he said to himself. A polite one, but a player. This situation won’t be difficult to repair. He is definitely the same man I saw in the Waffle House picture. He was not impressed and wondered what Caitlin saw in this loser. The thought of Hunter touching his Caitlin nauseated him.

****

“Looks like word is getting around about your show,” Hunter said. “Lots of traffic?”

“Yeah,” she said. “Word is getting around. Did you forget something?”

“I wanted to see if you wanted to come hear me play and get together after work tonight. Are you okay? Your face is red.”

“I’m fine. I just have a lot on my mind. Where are you playing tonight?” she asked.

“The Backdoor Lounge. Do you want to go?”

“No, sweetie. That’s really not my type of crowd. Besides, I think I need to spend some time alone again with Tejan, okay?” Caitlin felt a twinge of guilt at the half-lie, but she also needed some extra time to think of how to handle Von. Maybe she should go to his hotel for one last talk to break off things completely. She didn’t want any repeats of today’s confusion. And his artifacts. Another issue to resolve.

“No problem,” Hunter said. “I’m a little on the tired side myself. I’ve been working hard.”

“I know you have.” She gave him a quick kiss. “Now, you better let me get back to work.”

“Okay, but take off tomorrow so we can visit my parents. I really could use the moral support.”

“Sure. I’d love to meet them. Do you realize that the whole time we dated, you never took me home to meet them?”

“I decided that a lot of things in my life are going to be different. I’m really trying, Caitlin.”

After Hunter left, Tejan asked Caitlin, “Who was the tall man here before Mr. Hunter? He no talk like people in Louisiana. He talk like white men in Africa. Tejan think he see this man before.”

Caitlin nodded. “You have seen him before—at the mission.” Tejan had actually seen Von many times, but his mind was so clouded during his rehabilitation that she wasn’t surprised that he couldn’t recall him.

What bothered Caitlin the most was that Tejan’s eyes were wide and he was sweating profusely. His face bore the expression of a fearful little boy who has just learned the RUF had entered his village to play.