Settling Old Scores: BWWM Second Chance Romance (14 page)

Then,
there was the time he had to go crawling around in the double bottom
tanks while they were anchored in Cam Ranh Bay waiting to get into
the Delong Piers. It was totally dark. The only light was from
flashlights. They were crawling slowly through the limber holes in
the cross members at the bottom of the ship. Just the chief engineer
and him. Each hole was not much bigger than the width of your
shoulders. He must have crawled through five of them to get to the
area they needed to inspect. They thought they had a leak in the hull
from scraping bottom as they came into the harbor. The chief was no
dummy, he wasn't going to go down there without some young fit wiry
guy with him that could bail him out if needed. That was another time
Kevin really felt on the verge of panic.

All
of the sudden, someone launched a mortar toward the anchorage from
the hills. Being down there and feeling the concussion while not
being able to see anything was terrifying. The Chief and Kevin had
just started to go back. They didn't stop moving until they clambered
out on deck. It turned out it was the Americans fucking off by
shooting some mortars into the harbor. "The joke was on us. I
could have killed those motherfuckers," he said with intensity.

Matt
could relate to that story. He asked some questions and nodded in
agreement as Kevin told him about his feelings, and how scared he
was. “Maybe, you need some professional help yourself" he
said.

"I
didn't drink before those experiences. After them, I gave up religion
and took up bourbon. I heard when we pulled out they exploded the
whole depot rather than leave it. That must have been something to
see. What a big spit of sand that place was! They unloaded the ships
with women longshoreman; they were so desperately short of manpower,"
Kevin laughed as he recalled the place.

"Yeah.
I quickly went from alcohol to other stuff. Remember how cheap and
plentiful the drugs were?" enquired Matt.

"I
never got too involved with anything beyond liquor. I bet Saigon was
a beautiful place when it was a French colony. The old timers told me
they used to call it the Pearl of the Orient," Kevin said with a
smile as he recalled the city.

They
talked some more and finished the meal. Kevin had actually enjoyed
the catharsis he had while telling a few of his stories. Matt seemed
to feel better too. They agreed to meet again the next day. Kevin and
he walked down the street to the hotel. Kevin rented it out for the
week for Matt's use. Then, Kevin headed out for the downtown central
library. He wanted to see what they had on file on the riot, and
needed to kill a few hours before meeting Willie for lunch.

At
the library, Kevin did a quick survey of what they had on file. It
was not as extensive as the university's files, but it did have a
couple of things he had not seen previously. He quickly went through
them. Not much new there. Then, he started to range out to the
socialist paper that had mentioned Clarence Washington. It was really
a monthly newsletter packaged like a newspaper.

Kevin
quickly discovered that Clarence was the original founder of the
newsletter. It had started out in 1945. Back then, it must have been
a struggling entity. The articles consisted chiefly of commentary
from Clarence about union activities, socialism, and race. They
didn't have any advertisers except some bakery on the Avenue that
Kevin couldn't recall. They must have gone out of business long
before Kevin arrived on the scene.

Kevin
skipped ahead to the early 1950s and dropped in on them to see what
had changed with the paper. In 1950, Clarence was still publishing
away. His articles were mostly about union organizing, new contracts,
and strike votes. In early 1951, he must have sold the newsletter
because his name wasn't on the masthead. The paper took on a newer
look. Kevin backed up and looked closer. It would appear that the
paper changed hands before Pat was born, and about the time Dwayne
abandoned her and Hannah. Did that indicate that the two of them left
town together, Kevin wondered.

It
turned out that the new publisher was a guy that Kevin knew back in
the day. He was an old black guy with an artificial leg who had been
on one of Kevin's many routes. He used to clump around his house with
the leg. Kevin could close his eyes and hear the sound of him
clumping to the door, when he collected money for delivering the
papers every two weeks. William Bailey was his name. He wore a
woman's Nylon stocking over his hair when he was in the house. He had
a big head too. Kevin used to look at the Nylon and think about the
John Lee Hooker song
Big
Legs Tight Skirt
.

William
had a couple of pet peeves. He always wanted his paper delivered
between the storm door and the inside door. The other big deal was
that he didn't want you to ring the bell when you collected more than
one time. If you followed both these requirements to the letter, he
was a peach of a guy. If you didn't, he would be on you in a rage. He
just wanted some consideration for his condition. An older guy with
one leg didn't want to go out on an icy step to get his paper, and
didn't want you to be incessant with the doorbell. It just took a
while to get there once he heard the bell. Kevin wondered if he was
still alive. Of course, he knew where exactly he lived.

Shortly
after the riots, the paper stopped publishing. Kevin wondered if Mr.
Bailey would remember him, even if he was even alive. He made a
mental note to himself about it. By then, it was almost time for
lunch with Willie. He turned the library materials back in. They had
come from the archives. He thanked the librarian, and walked over to
the imposing old city hall building that contained the downtown city
jail amongst other things.

They
had agreed to meet a little before noon in the lobby of the old
building. At the appointed time, Willie showed up. At first, Kevin
didn't even recognize him. He just saw an enormous black man coming
toward him with a grin. Clearly, he recognized Kevin sooner than
Kevin recognized him.

"Kevin
my boy! How ya doing?" he boomed out in a loud voice. Then, he
extended a hand.

They
shook. "Willie! I didn't even recognize you. What the fuck
happened to you? You must have gained 100 pounds of solid muscle
since I last saw you," said Kevin.

"More
like 120, actually," Willie smiled and puffed up a bit. "When
I went in the Marines, I was 6-1 and 150 lbs. These days, I am closer
to 6-2 and go 270."

"Well,
I can see why they made you a jailer. You shouldn't have much trouble
handling most anyone," Kevin said looking him over. "It's
good to see you man. When Janet told me you were a cop, I couldn't
believe it."

Then,
Willie told him how he had turned his life around in the Marines. He
told him about being an MP and starting to lift weights so he could
handle drunks at the enlisted men's clubs easily. "I had plenty
of time to train, and train I did," he said.

They
headed across the street for something to eat. From the looks of it,
the customers were all cops and city hall workers. A couple of people
nodded to Willie. A couple of them scowled at him.

They
sat down and ordered. Willie talked about joining the police force
when he got out. "They had this big law & order sheriff that
ran for mayor and got elected. In our old neighborhood, law &
order translated into cracking black skulls. So, they needed some
black officers to make it look like that wasn't what law & order
was all about," said Willie.

"That
is how I came to be one of this town's finest. The police were and
still are plenty racist. Before I became jailer they had way more
incidents of black people ‘resisting’ arrest. They would
get on the service elevator to go up to the jail in pretty good
shape. They would come off beat to hell. That shit didn't fly with
me. I made some enemies. They either swear by me or swear at me. One
thing though about being as big as I am is that you can say or do
anything you want," Willie said with a serious look.

"It's
funny I started out as a token for the law & order guy, and then
became part of cleaning things up once the next mayor came along."
Willie said with a chuckle referring to the first black mayor the
city ever had. The sandwiches were served and they started in on
them.

"I
worked at a fast food place in a white part of town when I got out of
the paper business. Cops stopped by all the time on Friday and
Saturday nights to keep the teenagers in line. One time, one of the
officers told me they shot an escaping black guy in the back down in
our old neighborhood. The investigating officer came over when the
scene was taped off and planted an old starter pistol at the scene,”
Kevin said.

“
Then
the investigator told the patrolman that the story was you that saw
the gun and knew he was armed. Then he told them to write up their
reports and he would do the same. I don't think he was making this
shit up," Kevin said.

"I
remember more than one story about people getting arrested and then
getting the shit beaten out of them on the elevator, too. Really
nothing more scientific than the time you and I did the same thing to
that hapless prick that slapped around Janice. One guy grabs and
holds, the other guy clubs," Kevin said.

"That
reminds me, you carrying still? I wouldn't want to have to arrest
you," Willie said with a grin.

"No,
I don't have to do that anymore cause the cops have turned this into
a law & order town," Kevin shot back.

"Speaking
of law & order but not justice, when I talked to Janet, she told
me that Tammy works for those McCanns," Kevin said switching
gears.

"There
is a couple of niggers I would like to book into my jail. Those
motherfuckers got her under their spell. She is only nineteen and she
thinks she is smarter than everyone. She is making big money and
thinks she’s got the world by the tail. If they lay a finger on
her, I will be on them. They will get some Willie Smith justice
then," he said with menace.

Willie
continued on, "That element did take over the neighborhood after
the riots. To put it in Marine terms, they were the insurgents. They
filled the void left as the legitimates pulled out. The whole law &
order thing was a misplaced effort to take back the neighborhoods.
For every head they cracked, five niggers joined the insurgency. The
populace won't talk to the police. The city couldn't afford enough
cops to police what was happening. Now, we are trying to win back
hearts and minds, so to speak. I wasn't a bad kid, I was an
insurgent."

"No
street kid is going to rub shit in your eyes. I know that,"
Kevin said.

Then
Kevin told him the story of Marcy Greenberg and what a dead ringer
she was for her mom. Willie laughed as he recalled Kevin falling down
the stairs, eleven years earlier. He knew she disappeared after the
grocery store burned. He knew she was probably a freelance hooker
too. He pointed to a guy eating his lunch on the other side of the
room. "That is the detective that has the case now. His name is
Tom Perkins," he said.

"Pretty
sure they didn't look that hard for a body or a murderer in those
days. Most of their efforts were going into busting heads. It was a
lot more gratifying, even if it was in fact making things worse,"
Willie said.

23.
Seeking Approval

"Do
you think the McCanns had anything to do with Sylvia's going
missing?" Kevin asked.

"I
really never thought about it. She was nineteen, same as my sister is
now," said Willie, frowning at the realization of what he had
just said. "It's all just speculation. If you really want to
know, talk to the detective."

"You
know, I probably will. I bet he hasn't looked at that case in a long
time. In the absence of new info, I don't see why he would,"
Kevin said.

“
If
you want, I could ask him what he knows about the case. I could tell
him your story about the daughter being a dead ringer for her mom
down to the voice prints. Maybe, just knowing that would make him
look at it closer. I think he even has a daughter about Marcy's age.
He is bound to have a little empathy," said Willie.

"It
could work the other way too. Guy with a ninth grade daughter
probably is sick of her bullshit. They are either so sweet they can
melt your heart and wrap you around their finger or so bitchy you
would like to strangle them yourself," Kevin said with a laugh.

"Yeah,
don't I know it? I have two daughters and already they play me like a
fiddle," Willie said, reaching for his wallet and pulling out
some pictures. He showed Kevin some pictures of two little girls and
said, "Sheila is my wife's name. I met her after I got out of
the Marines, in sunny California."