Jack Dowling 55 Bethune Street H1023 New York City 10014 212-243-3674 [email protected]

TAMPA BAY; 1995 15,596 words

Willie let me sleep late Alex smiled to herself as she tumbled out of bed. She quickly squeezed into a pair of Jeans, then pulled a sweat shirt over her small slim torso. She tousled her short, blond hair into the school boy look that she knew Willie liked. she put on her boots… lace up tanned hide construction boots. Willie liked those too. She had just finished an apricot yogurt when the telephone rang. Hoping the call would be brief she grabbed for it. It was Nine-thirty; she was late for her work unpacking books and stacking shelves at the Writer’s center. With her arm in the sleeve of her jacket, the body of the coat dragging down behind her, she listened for a few moments, her blue eyes suddenly narrowing. she scribbled some names and numbers on the telephone pad. After she put the receiver down, she looked at her notes. Gulf Harbor! Where on earth is Gulf Harbor? On a bottom shelf of the bookcase there was an old Atlas. She brought it to the table. Gulf Harbor, Florida. Florida, K-6, page 22. There, just west of St Petersburg, a tiny blue dot on Tampa Bay was Gulf Harbor. The call was from an attorney in St. Petersburg informing her that her Aunt Evelyn had died and that she, Alex, was Evelyn’s executor. Alex had no idea what being an executor meant. The arrangements after her mother’s death had been handled by her film producer brother, who flew in from California, took care of the necessary papers, arranged for the undertaker, then flew home without even a dinner together. After expenses, there was barely $10,000 in her mother’s estate. They split the money and Alex put her share in a savings account with a passbook that she could take out to look at every once in a while. Evelyn must have had friends in Gulf Harbor who could handle her things, she thought. She knew little about this woman who, though once married, was childless and had moved to Florida before Alex was born. Alex picked up her phone and called Willie. After listening Willie, sounding a bit miffed, said that she was hard pressed to understand why Alex knew so little about this Aunt, an Aunt never mentioned in Willie’s presence and yet she had made Alex her executor. “I will never get it about your family, Sandy. Everything is secrets; nobody knows anything about anyone else.” “That’s not true. I don’t have secrets.” Alex replied in a huff. “Tell me your sister-in-law’s name?” Willie asked with a little laugh. “Which one?” Alex, replied tartly, mildly annoyed never having met her brother’s wives. Willie was from a large inner-city family. She and her siblings had been raised in tight quarters, with little privacy. Everything was shared, spoken of or fought over. There was no place to keep secrets she had once explained to Alex. “I guess I have to go to Gulf Harbor.” Alex said. “Yes, there’s a funeral to arrange,” Willie said. “Oh, my goodness, I hadn’t even thought of the funeral. They would have to wait for a family member...for me.” “You had better call about flights. Call Crescent Air, they have good rates.” “Can you be home early tonight, Willie? I’ll have dinner ready so we can talk. I need your help with this.” “I did have a handball game at the courts but I’ll cancel and come straight home, OK?” “Oh, thanks, Alex sighed. Bring some wine if you want, we’re out” “I’ll get wine. See you about 6:30.” “Thanks Willie, Willie.”

They had met at the Women’s Dance at the LGBT Center on West 13th Street in New York City. Willie, Tall, lithe and black had sauntered into the auditorium and, leaning her long- limbed body against the wall while sipping a coke, watched the dancing. A small slim fair-haired girl who was losing ground to her partner’s aggressive dance style caught Willie’s attention. When the young women noticed that Willie was watching her, she blushed, faced away; tried a little harder to keep up. The repetitive beat of the disco number ended and was followed by something slower. The partner turned away with a friendly nod and headed toward the refreshments in the next room. Willie approached. “Dance?” She asked smoothly. Alex looked up at Willie, “Ah, I’m not really very good,” yet she tentatively moved forward. Willie guided her back out onto the floor by placing her hand on the slim waist. The girl, after a few tentative steps with a bit of uncertainty, soon responded by lightening her step, giving herself over to Willie’s lead. “What’s your name?” Willie asked. “It’s Alex. And yours?” “Whilamina, Whilamina Hardy. They call me Willie.” “Actually, I’m Alexandra. Alexandra Stern. But everybody calls me Alex. “Well, what do you know, Alex and Willie, could be the title of a Salinger story,” Willie whispered, laughing lightly causing Alex to blush again and laugh too. Dancing easily now, Willie moved a little closer and gracefully led Alex away from the crush to the less crowded edge of the floor. At the music’s end, Willie, her palm placed lightly at the small of Alex’s back, gently steered Alex toward the lounge. The former dance partner was there chatting up a young woman who was setting out cups and napkins. She seemed startled to see Alex with Willie and squaring her shoulders, focused more intently on the server to suggest that they were flirting with one another. “Your friend?” Willie asked, handing Alex the diet coke she had asked for. “No, not in that way; not now; we were almost… we once…sort of…We ended before it began” “We never slept together.” Alex added as they sat, closing the subject of her former relationship, then she wondered why she had revealed that much. That the air was charged with the possibilities of something new was apparent to both. Finally, after moments of talk, moments of silence, Willie asked, “Would you have dinner with me sometime?” She’s Black; that fact raced through her mind. She’s beautiful joined the spinning of crashing conflicting feelings. She likes me thrilled her as her heart beat against her ribs with excitement. “Yes, that would be nice.” she replied with some hesitation. After a moment she repeated, yes. She likes me, her mind leaping nervously into new territory. “Yes” she said again gazing up at this tall woman with a crown of black frizzed hair, her black eyes intently focused down on her. Alex trembled. Yes, she said to herself; yes.

The following Friday, they met as planned. Alex had had no idea where to suggest for dinner. Then she remembered Fedora, an inexpensive restaurant in the Village that a gay male friend had taken her too. She had noticed that there were two women at a table among a house full of gay men. “Do you know a restaurant named Fedora?” she asked Willie. “No, I don’t much do restaurants. I generally eat with family so whatever you choose is fine with me” Fedora, a small older blond woman met them as they entered. She smiled and led them to a table then went back to chat with her boy customers. Alex saw that Willie was the only Black person in the room but Willie didn’t seem to notice. Alex relaxed.

After dinner without much discussion they walked through the Village to East 6th Street. Where Alex had a small walk-up rental apartment. At dinner she had asked Willie if she would like to see it. After the climb, Alex unlocked the double locks on her door, They entered through a kitchen painted in an ivory white as was the living room with windows facing south. Willie could see distant skyscrapers of downtown New York over the tree tops behind the building. There were plants leaning toward the light; succulents. On the left was a sliver of a bedroom and a door to a toilet. They remained standing as Alex took their coats and put them in a tiny living room closet. When she came back, Willie was still in the same spot. Just inside the apartment door. “Come closer” She said softly. Alex slowly walked toward her. Willie lightly touched her full lips to those of Alex. That touch slowly grew into a feverish exploration of Alex. Kisses upon her throat, her neck her shoulders. Alex was trembling so hard she could hardly stand. Willie gently led her to the small bedroom and began to undress her with more kisses and caresses, her hands traveling up and around until they came upon two small but tight breasts. Afterward, Willie asked, “can I call you Sandy? I want something private between us” “I like that”, Alex said. “My grandmother used to call me that” There were more dinners and more returns to the apartment. They became a couple.

At the Writers Center, Alex explained about the call. Her supervisor told her to take the week. Heading home she remembered that when she was in her early teens, she and her mother had visited her mother’s older sister, Evelyn at St. Petersburg. It had been a strange, awkward visit, her Aunt doting on her, giving her presents, her mother strangely silent. After returning home, Alex received birthday cards and small gifts from Evelyn. Letters arrived inviting her for to visit but it never happened. Gradually the cards and letters, which she had rarely answered, stopped. When her mother died, she notified Evelyn. She received a condolence card with sympathetic hand-written words, signed Love, Aunt Evie but then nothing further. The next day Alex left for Florida.

The four-hour flight from Newark had been uneventful. But, as the plane neared Tampa, Alex, glancing out her window, saw towering, turbulent clouds ahead. She was not afraid of flying, but what they were approaching appeared dark and menacing. The wing lights blinked rapidly as if it were night. Upon flying into what looked to Alex like a black hole the plane shook and bucked as it shouldered its way through. With a light cough, a male voice cleared itself on the intercom. “This is the Captain.” Her fingers froze on the arm rest waiting for the worst. I’m only 27 she thought. But, in a calm manner with a slight Hispanic trace to his English, the Captain announced that they would be landing at Tampa International Airport in 10 minutes, that the temperature at Tampa International Airport was 83 degrees, that the weather at Tampa International Airport was fair with occasional showers and then, with nothing more than a gentle click of a button, the Captain went off the air. Alex was appalled. She had met men like him, men who refused to appear ruffled. But soon the plane was leveling, the buffeting had eased off; she began to relax. All seemed fine until an explosive flash of lightening, seemingly right at her window, so startled her she almost screamed; the Captain came back on the intercom. In that same sibilant voice, he announced that they would circle to the south of the “magnificent thunderheads” before landing so that the passengers could get a better view of them. In his many years of flying these were the most beautiful cloud formations he had ever seen, he said. He wanted everyone to have the same opportunity. No word of safety, thought Alex, no reassurance that the wings were not coming off. But, as the plane banked west, putting the center of the storm away from them, Alex saw what the pilot had seen. Multi colored clouds…rose, lavender, pink…softly piling upon one another, were stacked high into the clear blue sky above, tumbling, serenely skidding on sullen gray bases from which bolts of lightning stabbed down at the earth below. Now, from a distance, the storm, its bottom the color of putty, its tops glowing in sunlight, was as incredibly beautiful as the captain had proclaimed. With an easy, “I hope you were all impressed with our Mother Nature,” the pilot directed the cabin attendants to prepare for landing and thanked everyone for flying Crescent Air. The wheel wells opened with a rumble. Alex turned and watched as the storm, now behind them, charged its way toward the Everglades, toward Miami allowing sunlight to reflect from the planes massive wings and then shine down to the earth itself where she could see the shadow of the descending plane grow impressively larger as they neared the ground. As she moved forward to disembark, the officers were standing at the exit door as is the custom. She heard one of the cabin attendants say in response to something, “Yes, Captain Lopez”, and she turned to see the man, the Captain who announced that in his many years of flying had never seen such cloud formations. As he smiled at her Alex couldn’t help but stop and stare before moving on. Many years of flying indeed, she thought, he looked to be 19 years old.

As Alex stepped out of the terminal the warm, moist air overwhelmed her. She hadn’t realized how different Florida would be with its unending tropic heat and humidity. A taxicab took her to her destination, the city of St. Petersburg, once a popular winter haven looking now weary and worn. Northern “snowbirds” had moved on to fresher newer communities. Her inexpensive hotel, “The Gulf View”, was clean, had color TV with cable and plenty of fresh, white towels. But the only view of the Gulf was from a west facing window by the elevator. She had a light meal in a nearby coffee shop, then she dropped onto the big double bed for a nap. She woke up at 10 and grabbed for the phone to call Willie, but there was no answer. She knew this would happen, she had intended, had promised actually, to call earlier. Alex murmured into the answering machine “Hi, I’m here, I’m safe,” She left the hotel number, put down the telephone and rolled over. Images of her strong, tall Willie flying happily through a racquetball game were her last comforting moments before she fell asleep again and through the rest of the night. She woke early and after bringing some coffee and a Danish to her room she reflected on why she was suddenly in St. Petersburg. She wondered about her Aunt Evelyn. Alex dressed in something she thought appropriate and walked to the attorney’s office. The heat and humidity totally unexpected. I am my mother’s daughter she reflected with annoyance as she removed the jacket of the light weight blue wool suit, the only suit that she owned, as she realized how totally inappropriate it was for Florida. After a brief discussion with an assistant to the attorney she was given a key. She called a cab and asked to be taken to Pinellas Street in Gulf Harbor. After a short drive, they turned into an old cracked cement boulevard bordering a wide, calm Bay with a small Sand beach and, to her surprise, up ahead, out over the water an old board and batten wood frame dance hall on pilings and with it, a fishing pier. The octagonal structure, topped with a cupola, had a high surround of awning windows with a single entrance. Above the doorway were the remnants of an old sign, the faded words. Land and Water Club, long washed or sun bleached away. Stapled to the side was a tattered banner that had the letters, G.Y.C. in the middle with Gulf Harbor Youth Club printed out below. The car slowed and stopped opposite the club building. The driver pointed out a house on the side street. “Pinellas Street,” he said, “One Way,” he pointed, waving to the sign, indicating that he could not turn into it. Alex had already arranged that he would wait for her so they both got out of the cab, the driver taking out a pack of cigarettes as he strolled over to the beach while Alex walked up the street to the house, a one-story peak-roofed structure stretching deep into property crowded with tall Cyprus trees. The house was faded clapboard, perhaps once painted or stained, but now well weathered. Alex thought that the soft Grey color of the wood was very pleasant as she mounted the single step to the porch where a wicker style armchair with a big cushion was angled to face the bay. Alex crossed the porch and opened the front door with the key. The lock moved easily and the door opened directly into a large front room. Ahead on the left side of the house, was a long hallway with a row of staggered windows, the blinds drawn. Alex could see light, sunlight, softly illuminating a room at the end of this hall. As she closed the front door, she heard a scraping sound come from that distant room, like a chair being pushed across a wood floor. Alex hesitated wondering whether to call the driver when a hazy figure appeared in the room’s doorway. A voice called “Come in. If you’re Alex, come in.” It was a woman’s voice and not a young one. Alex hesitated, squinting at the distant space. It was hard to make out the person who had spoken. She instinctively lowered her bag to the floor, leaving it by the door in case she had to run. She started toward the hallway, calling out, “Who is it? Who’s there? Do I know you?” “I’m Emily,” the figure moved away, out of sight. “Come in, come in. I don’t mean to scare you.” Alex edged carefully down the long hall passing two bedrooms and a bath, purposely looking in assuring herself that there was no one lurking in one them. She noticed that they were simply furnished, that the bath looked neat and clean. When she reached the halls end, she was at a kitchen, big and square, the flooding light coming from skylights set either side the pitched roof. The windows, with raised blinds, faced out on a jungle-like thicket of trees and scrub. She could see bits of color…clematis or perhaps even orchids…clinging to tree bark. She stepped into the room. At her right a woman was seated at the kitchen table sipping from a cup. “I’m Alex. How did you know my name?” She said in a firm voice. “Social worker, Helen Jakeway, told me about you." “Were you a friend of my Aunts?” “Only friend left, maybe. I live next door.” As Alex looked toward the windows to find the house, Emily sighed, “No not right smack out there…around the corner down the next walk, back in the Cyprus groove, behind here.” She waved her arm and pointed beyond the wooded yard. “So, you were you waiting for me?” Alex asked, glancing around the kitchen noticing that there was water steaming in a kettle on the stove. A cup and a teabag sat beside it. “When they took her to hospital, Evie asked that I’d watch her things, “Just in case”, she said. She pushed herself away from the table with that same scraping sound and padded to the stove. Her legs were bare. On her feet were a pair of worn sandals. Her hair, hanging loose, was a mixed color of sand and ash gray, a nice color. She was not much taller than Alex, but heavier, squarish. She looked to be in her mid-sixties. “The attorney called. Said you were on your way. You take milk?’ she asked turning to Alex, while pouring the steaming water into the cup. “No”, Alex said. “Is there lemon?” “No lemon. Got concentrate if you want, but nothing fresh. This kitchen’s been closed since Evie went to hospital.” “Thank you, no, just with a bit of sugar if you have, thank you.” Alex walked to a window and looked out. She was right; there were flowers in the trees, hundreds of them on all kinds of vines. She had no idea what flowers they were, but they were shade lovers. The only light that filtered through the tall surrounding trees was dappled. She understood the need for skylights in the kitchen. “How did she die?” “Well she was dying for a long time. It finally just all ended for her. Better that it did too. Cancer, but I think Evie died before the cancer got her.” “What do you mean, before it got her? What did she die of ?” “I think she just wore out and died. The lawyer will know everything, isn’t my place, really, to talk about it.” Emily padded back to the table putting the cup down and pointed to the chair opposite her for Alex to sit upon. “So, I guess all this is yours now.” She said. “What do you mean all this?” Alex asked, slowly sitting down. “This house; the land behind including my house; I guess it’s all yours. You’re her only kin, aren’t you?” Alex lowered her cup to the table, shaken by Emily’s statement, the tea sloshing from the cup. “Goodness, I…I hardly knew my Aunt. Why do you say its mine? I’ve never talked to her, not since I was in my teens. I’m just the executor. “She talked about you a lot. Occasionally she called your mother so she knew about you; knew that you were a writer. “What do you mean she ‘talked about me?’ Were you old friends?” Alex leaned over the table staring intently at this woman sitting here in her aunt’s kitchen waiting for her, expecting her. “Finish your tea dear, I’ll pour us more. You’ll be here for a few days; we can talk later, after you’ve done the business part and made the arrangements for Evie.” They sat in the kitchen looking out at the jungle of a garden, both silent, both lost in their own thoughts, two women uneasily sipping hot tea on a hot Florida afternoon.

…

The following morning, Alex returned to the offices of Martin & Martinez, the legal firm who had supplied the house key was handling the estate. Allan Martin had said that he would have the papers for her aunt’s estate ready and apologized for not being available in the morning. He was friendly and, after offering his condolences, and commenting on her unexpected youth, opened a folder. He had Alex sign the documents to become executor as named. He handed over a checkbook and a savings book from a local bank, saying that there was not much in cash but that Evelyn had put Alex’s name on both accounts. Alex, overcoming embarrassment at “peeking,” opened them. The checkbook registered $2,500. The passbook was inscribed, ‘Savings for Alex’, showed a little over $25,000. Alex looked at Martin. “Not much in cash?” She said excitedly. To Alex this was a fortune. She looked again at the passbook. “Well, I meant not much in cash by today’s standards, but there is the house and land. Your Aunt lived on her social security and a small pension both of which will stop payment. She had no other accounts as far as I have found. But we have found a problem.” He slid out the remaining papers. “In her will,” he said, taking up the blue paper bound pages, and undoing the cord that tied them, “she left you the cash in her two accounts and the house with the surrounding property. There is a clause that gives Emily Balmier the right to occupy the small house on that back part of the property rent free for the rest of her life, if she so chooses.” “Do you understand?” he asked looking up from under half glasses. “Yes,” Alex replied slowly, “I think so.” “According to the will, were the properties to be put up for sale,” Martin went on, “that clause would be included in the deed, it is called a restriction”. Alex, half listening, fingers twisting together in her excitement, missed every other word. She was left the property, she understood that. Emily was to be allowed to stay, she grasped that. But, my goodness! A house in Florida and $25,000.in cash. “Miss Stern?” Alex’s tumbling thoughts came quickly to a stop. She looked up, realizing that Martin was still speaking. “As I said, there is a problem. The State of Florida doesn’t require a separate title search as is the custom in many other states. In Florida, verifying title is the attorney’s duty. And so, despite your aunt’s will, I’ve found that neither the title nor the deed to the property is in her name alone. She’s paid the taxes, has been doing so for as far back as I could find, but the deed includes the name Dolores Marino. They were tenants with rights of survivorship.” He paused. “Do you know of a Dolores Marino?” “I’ve never ever heard the name. She’s not a relative I don’t think.” Alex leaned forward in her chair, eyes widening, fingers on the desk edge suddenly standing on their tips. “Do you mean that everything’s been left to me, but it’s not mine? “That’s correct, Miss Stern…Alex,” Her fantasies began fading, crashing around her as he explained. “Your aunt must have assumed that she alone owned the property. She was paying the taxes herself for many years.” Martin replied slowly, “Whether there was a transfer and your Aunt purchased Marino’s interest sometime in the past…perhaps some papers did not get properly registered…I have no idea. He looked across the desk at Alex, clearly mystified. “What do I do?” Alex asked slowly, slumping back in her chair. “You’ll have to try and find this Marino person. In the meantime, make sure to keep paying the bills and taxes to avoid any liens or foreclosure. As of today, there are no debts on the estate.” “What about Emily, Emily…what did you say her last name was?” “Bolmeier, Emily Bolmeier. Her right to stay in her house is no longer legally binding without Marino’s consent. But there’s no reason I can see that she should have to move. Until we find Marino, simply pay the taxes, utilities and insurance. As executor, you can convert the checking account to an Estate account. Regarding the property, I’ll look into adverse possession. We might be able to claim full title to the property if Marino can’t be found. But it can be a long and arduous process.” Alex stood up and went to the window. Looking out toward Tampa Bay there were boats, some headed out into the Gulf of Mexico, fishing boats, trawlers. They’re all going fishing, she thought…but we’re fishing for answers. “The firm can put a trace on the name, look up local records, old tax bills, telephone directories,” Martin went on, “but it’s time consuming and costly. I suggest that you talk to Bolmieir. See if she can shed any light on it. Anything that you can find on your own, an old address book, correspondence, would speed things up. We’ll be happy to follow any lead. You would save a great deal of money by ferreting out on your own what you can.” Alex slowly gathered her papers and put them in her bag. “Would there be a problem if I stayed at the house?” she asked. “It seems foolish to rent a room.” “You can’t claim full possession but stay there if you like. I don’t see any problem. Technically you are, by inheritance, co-owner. The telephone and utilities are still on in your Aunt’s name.” At the door, Alex stopped. She turned to Martin. “What did my aunt die of?” He stared back at her. “Didn’t Emily Bolmeier tell you?” “No.” “She took her own life at the hospital. Apparently, she had hidden some pills. She took them at night. The duty nurse is still very upset. She was in the final stage of ovarian cancer.” They looked at each other for a moment, and then Alex left. She realized that she would be here longer than just a few days. And she still had not arranged burial for Evelyn whose remains were at a local funeral home. Alex went to the hotel to check out. She packed up her few things, paid the bill and had the clerk call for a cab.

…

While Alex was in the cab back to Gulf Harbor, Willie was on the subway on her way to a client. Although Willie was a licensed chiropractor, she preferred body work and advertised herself as such which gave her some amount of pleasure when people did that…oh! eyebrow’s up kind of pause when asking what kind of work, she was in. She didn’t like being confined in a clinical space and her skill as a chiropractor gave her an edge in the body work field. She used a portable folding table with wheels that she could easily maneuver around town so being tall was to her advantage. This morning she was on her way to a regular on the upper west side. A married, middle aged woman who, though she thought the reason she saw Willie was to benefit physically from Willies manipulations, Willie was sure that, in truth, she was secretly thrilled to be taken in hand by a black lesbian. “It happens,” was Willies only reaction when she gleaned this tidbit from her intuitive self and she continued with the client, amused by this insight. She left the subway at 72nd Street and walked east to the Dakota apartments. Looking up at the massive turreted structure, she fantasized their living here, she and Alex. She could see them coming home from a trip somewhere, striding in through the Porte Cochere, travel bags over their shoulders, shopping bags in hand, filled with expensive finds, laughing and giggling. Smiling at the image, rolling her table beside her, she entered the courtyard, nodded to the doorman and headed for the service elevator. “Not in my lifetime” she mused to herself. When the session was over, her client walked her through the kitchen, then out to the small landing for the service elevator. On the floor in the corner near the elevator door a small something round seemed stuck. As the elevator door opened Willie picked it up, rolled it around in her hand to remove some grime and and dropped it into her satchel without thought.

At about that same time, Alex arrived back at Pinellas Street and carried her one small bag into the house. She hadn’t brought much clothing from New York but, mercifully, she would not need a lot of things in Florida. The blue suit she put back in the bag. She walked through the rooms of the house liking the way it was furnished, the way it smelled…woody with a spicy odor. She ran her hands along the wooden walls and door frames, along the smoothness of the rock-hard Southern Pine with which it had been built. In the front room, there was a bamboo framed couch with flowered cushions and two matching arm chairs. There were some prints on the walls. A wood bladed Hunter fan centered the ceiling. The room had moveable shutters to the porch which could be closed at night, but were open now. Light gauze-like curtains delicately diffused the view. Good Karma, Alex thought. This is a good place. She went back down the hall to decide which would be her room. The two bedrooms were separated by the bath. The room nearest the kitchen being the larger she assumed had been her Aunt’s and so she took the other room. It had well filled bookcases, a bureau and a twin-size bed. In the bathroom there was a pale blue Japanese style wrapper patterned in large white flowers. It looked old fashioned. Alex took it from the hook and slipped it on. It would be handy after showering she thought and hung it back. Alex went to the kitchen and stepped out into the yard. Emily had told her that her house was within calling distance behind the trees and after taking a few steps into the path Alex could not see the house through the Cyprus trees but she called out. “Emily? Are you home? Are you there? It’s Alex, can I come over?” “Emily?” she called again, but there was no reply. She stood a moment taking in the heady fragrance of the flowering vines, overcome of the richness of it all before going back into the house. On her cab trips, she had passed a small Bodega a few blocks away. She made up a grocery list, picked up her wallet and a canvas carryall that she found in the kitchen. After locking the front door, she walked toward the beachfront. There were a few young men, teenagers really, standing in front of the youth club, bouncing a basketball back and forth, then heaving it in the air toward a hoop mounted on the building. They all seemed to miss. Too bad Willie’s not here to coach them, Alex thought. As she walked on down the street, the boys, one after the other, covertly glanced after her. At the Bodega, she found much of what was also available to her on East 6th Street; row upon row of canned goods. Garbanzos called chick peas in her youth; Frijoles Negros, black beans, which she had come to love. The Bodega was filled with the odors of spices and fresh food along with the heady smell of something slowly cooking on a stove somewhere in a back room. And, there was fresh chicken, chicken that needed a little more plucking still, but fresh killed. Alex bought chicken, rice, beans, an onion and garlic. That night she made a satisfying supper with plenty of leftovers. Afterwards she called Willie. She couldn’t believe that this was only her second day in Florida. It seemed weeks since she had left New York. “So, how’s it going?” “It’s getting very confusing, Willie. Do you think you could come down? I know you have appointments, but could you put them off for a week or so and come down?” “Will you have to be there that long, Sandy? I thought you would just arrange whatever and come home, leave the rest for the lawyer.” “I arranged the burial for tomorrow. There’s a plot here all paid for. I don’t think there’s any point in a service.” “So, what keeps you there beyond tomorrow?” Alex explained to Willie the deed and title complications, the presence of Emily and the need to find Delores Marino. She didn’t mention suicide, knowing it would invite a barrage of questions from Willie that she simply could not answer. “The house is really nice, Willie. You would like it. It’s right at the beach. There’s swimming and I saw some boys with a basketball. Oh, you would like it. Please, Willie, try to come down.” “Well, let me see what I can do. If anyone feels needy, I can ask Liz to fill in. She’s always looking for more work.” Liz was an old friend of Willie’s who had helped convince Willie to give up the cubby hole of her chiropractic office and join her in body work. Alex and Willie talked; talk was reassuring, but it soon left them even more aware of the distance between them. “OK, Alex. I’ll come down. How’s Thursday? I’ll call and see if I can get on a flight for Thursday morning. I’ll call you back. Feel better?” “Thanks Willie. Yes, much better. Guess what I had for dinner?” “Chicken and rice? “How did you know?” “You always make chicken and rice when you’re anxious. And beans, chick peas or black beans? “Black beans,” Alex replied, sheepishly. Willie laughed, “I’ll call you later, Sandy love,” and after a few more endearments, they hung up, Willie to call the airline, Alex going back to the kitchen to see if she could see any lights on in Emily’s direction.

…

Willie’s flight was in no way as eventful as Alex’s. She arrived at Tampa on Thursday afternoon as promised. Despite what the round trip and waiting time cost, Alex had hired a cab so she could meet Willie. Standing near the gate, her heart gave a leap the moment she spotted Willie striding down the ramp toward her. They hugged one another tightly. Chattering like schoolgirls, they went out to the cab, their hands darting back and forth, quickly and lightly, touching one another as though they had been separated for months rather than just a few days. When the cab driver, who was a black man, understood that Willie was going back to Gulf Harbor with Alex, he said to Willie, “You sure you want to go to Gulf Harbor, Miss?” Alex and Willie looked at each other. Alex said, “We’re staying there.” He gave them a look and a slight shake of his head, before starting the car. Willie glanced over at Alex and shrugged her shoulders. They assumed that they had been “outed” but being New Yorkers, it seemed no big deal. But that was not why he asked. At the house, Alex made lunch while Willie looked around. Alex could see the pleasure in Willie’s eyes, comfortable rather than cautious in unfamiliar surroundings. She was pleased by the way Willie seemed to fit so easily in the space. As she prepared an avocado salad, Alex ran the chronology of events. She had searched the house for papers, address books, anything. She had come up empty handed. She wondered whether Emily had taken Evelyn’s personal papers to her house for safe keeping. She went on about Emily’s absence; where she could be and… “Woo, Whoa…said Willie, Slow down honey, you’re going to pop a vessel. Let’s eat and you can tell me…slowly…all that has happened.” So, Alex told Willie of the money, of the suicide. She repeated Emily’s statement that Evelyn had cancer and was in a great deal of pain. Willie reflected on this. She took Alex’s hand and held it tight. She stood and cleared the table of dishes then she turned to Alex with a smile and said, “Well Sandy, there’s not much to do if you’ve searched this house. So, show me the beach, I’ve never been to Florida, never known such a climate. It is hot and I love it. It must be in the genes.” Willie laughed at Alex’s blush. After the washing up, drying and putting away the dishes and utensils, which Alex was compelled to do no matter what, they went out and up to Bayview Avenue, which ran along the water. Willie saw the Youth Club banner and asked about the basketball game. “It wasn’t a game exactly. They were just tossing the ball. They were kind of listless, like they had no real game going, just something to kill time. Basically, they were just hanging out.” “Kids that age need someone to lay it out for them, they like a leader. Even if they pretend to be rebels, they’re still looking for some kind of guidance.” “How do you know so much about kids, Willie? You always seem to know their every thought.” “I was the only girl in our family, remember? five boys and me. And I was better at sports than all of them except Clayton. He was really good. But there wasn’t anybody to steer him along. I was too young, Clayton being’ five years older. His teachers were too busy filling out truant reports while most of the kids were at school just to pass the time. Our father was long gone probably feeling badly. My mother said that he went because he couldn’t find work to support us.” “Clayton finally dropped out. He got a part time job at a hardware store and played basketball in the park at night but the fence crowd, those guys, the drug dealers hanging out watching, they finally got talking to him so in a shoot-out he got killed. Jus’ happened to be at the wrong place at the wrong time. Doing nothing, jus’ bein’ there when guns were pulled on some other guys. Someone’s guidance would have saved him. That was what he was looking for, he just never found it.” They walked along in silence after that. Alex knew the story, but never interrupted when Willie told it. She knew Willie had to keep Clayton with her, that she spoke about this favorite brother to keep his memory alive, no matter how terrible his short life was. At the end of Bayview Avenue there was a high, chain link fence with barbed wire wrapped around the top. Beyond were open fields almost to the edge of St. Pete as it was called in the East. Alex had noticed some 24-Hour Neighborhood Watch signs posted on side streets. Still, she had hardly seen a soul. A few pick-up trucks, most of them run down, were parked in drives and yards, but there were rarely any people about other than the boys at the basketball ring all of whom were white. Once or twice on her way to or back from the Bodega, she would see a woman or two sitting, smoking on one or another front porch or a fat-bellied guy poking inside a truck with its hood up, his ass crack in full display. Alex would give a slight wave of hello to the women, but she rarely had a response. This time though as they passed and Alex went to make a small gesture to a woman on a porch, a woman who once gave her a slight nod back, the woman stood up, arms folded across her breasts, gave them both a hard look before slamming the screen door of the house behind her calling out “Charlie.” A heavy-set man walked out onto the porch, first stared and then yelled out at them, “What do you want?” Alex and Willie stopped and Alex answered that she had a house down the way at Pinellas Street. The woman suddenly stepped forward. “I seen ya around. I mean who’s with you? What’s she doin’ round here?” Willie said to Alex. “Let’s move on Sandy” at which point Alex yelled back at the couple, “She’s a friend of mine, OK? She’s my friend.” They headed back in silence turning into Pinellas, where they sat out on the porch for a bit to calm themselves. Neither said a word. The incident was understood by both. At last they got up and walked back down a narrow lane to find Emily’s house. The property was thick with overgrowth but there behind Evelyn’s densely planted rear yard, facing the un-named lane was a simple house, perhaps only three rooms, unpainted, but in nice condition. They knocked but there was no reply. “Look, Alex said. There’s a path that must lead to Evelyn’s house. Let’s take it.” They walked through the thicket of shrub and trees, palm leaves as tall as their heads, vines hanging down out of branching Cyprus. The path was damp and narrow and in places, muddy as it wound its way toward Evelyn’s back door. They stepped up into the kitchen. Alex made coffee for Willie and tea for herself. They spent the rest of the day reflecting on the encounter their neighbor then had dinner and went to bed.

The next morning, early, Alex heard rapping at the kitchen door. She and Willie were still in bed. They had moved into the larger bedroom. Alex got up, slipped on the Japanese robe and went out to the kitchen. Through the window, she could see Emily standing at the back step. She un-latched the door, holding the wrapper close to herself, looking down the one step at Emily, who was wide eyed. “Evie never locked this door.” Seeing the robe that Emily had on she said. “Where’d you get that?” “The bathroom” Alex replied, as Emily stepped up into the kitchen. “That’s Evie’s robe.” “I thought so. I didn’t bring one. I like it.” Emily didn’t reply but went to the stove. She picked up the kettle while asking over her shoulder, “Do you want some tea or do you do coffee in the morning?” Alex remained rooted trying to think, to ask Emily why she was here, when she felt movement behind here. It was Willie. She could feel her presence, her close protectiveness. Emily, putting on the kettle, had her back to them. When she turned around, she stiffened. “Who are you?” She asked bluntly. Willie didn’t respond and Alex realized it was for her to explain. “This is my friend. The one I told you I was going to call. Willie. Willie this is Emily, my Aunt’s friend.” Willie said, “Hello,” but Emily just stood there looking at her, her face coloring a little. Finally, she asked, “You two live together in New York?” “Yes.” Willie replied. “We do now. Why?” Emily turned back to the kettle which was now boiling. “Just askin”, Tea or coffee?” “Tea for me, coffee for Willie,” said Alex, pulling the robe tight again, glancing around at Willie only to see that all she had pulled on were a pair of jeans; nothing else. Both her feet and breasts were bare. Wide-eyed, Alex nudged Willie to get a top or something. But Willie spoke out. “We can get our own breakfast you know. I mean it’s nice of you, but it is 7:30 in the morning. I’m not ready to rise and shine.” She turned back to the bedroom where she slipped on a blue denim work shirt, shaking her head in annoyance as she did so. She glanced in the mirror, scrunching her face awake and ran her fingers through the clutch of tight black curls that topped her head, then went back to the kitchen. The coffee and tea were both on the table along with milk and sugar and some store- bought pastries bought by Emily who had left while Willie was dressing. “I think you hurt her feelings. She probably came in in the mornings for Aunt Evie. Probably didn’t even think twice.” “Did she say where she was yesterday?” Willie asked, sipping on her coffee her elbows on the table. “No, I asked and she seemed to tighten up. You came in and then…well, I just didn’t have a chance to ask anything more.” “Well, when we finish lets’ go over to her house to find out just what is going on, Ok?” “All right, yes,” Alex replied with less enthusiasm. She didn’t want any confrontation between Willie and Emily. She was sure that everything would prove to be fine. As they went out of the door the telephone rang and Willie being closer turned back to answer it. She was on the line for some time before catching up with Alex. “Who was that?” Alex asked. “It was Liz, my friend in New York who’s filling in for me.” Willie voiced tightly. “Is everything OK?” asked Alex. “I’ll tell you later.” Willie said as she strode on ahea

…

When Emily returned to her house, she knew it wouldn’t be long before Alex and Willie would be knocking on her door. She could handle Alex, but that other one, well, she knew the type. A pushy Take Charge type, run the world if she could. Still, she was nervous. There were too many questions coming at her. She had to juggle them so as to not trip herself up; not say more than she needed to. She went into her bedroom and picked up the box of papers she had moved from Evelyn’s house the day Evelyn went to the hospital along with papers that she went to the bank yesterday and got from a safe deposit box that she had a key too. In about an hour there was the knock on her door. She went and opened it, holding the screen wide nodding Alex and Willie back into her tiny kitchen. No one said a word. Alex couldn’t help noticing the large cardboard box open on the kitchen table. The envelopes lined up inside of it. Other papers were arranged on the table. “Sit ya down, will you both? Please sit down.” Emily said, and sat down herself so that all three were at the round, wooden table. “These are All of Evie’s papers. You look at them. If you have any questions, I’ll try and answer them for you as best I can.” Looking from one woman to the other, Alex reached into the box and began going through the contents. There were bundles of letters; a small album of photographs. A newspaper page and some pages from a magazine were at the bottom of the box along with some broken pieces of junk jewelry. There were her aunts tax receipts and check stubs marked by their years in manila envelopes. Alex dug deep into the lower layers of the carton where there were some yellowed odds and ends of papers. “But these are just my aunt’s things,” said Alex sitting back. “Who is Delores Marino?” Her voice began to tremble. Willie slowly turned her around to wrap her in her arms, looking over the top of her head directly at Emily as she whispered, “Sandy, honey...it’s going to be fine. It’ll all come out fine, you’ll see.” “Could you make tea?” she asked of Emily who was openly staring at the two. Emily got to her feet and went to her small two burner stove. A pan of water sat there and she turned on the burner and stood there with her back to the two as Willie soothed Alex. “Delores Marino up and left without hardly a word,” she said suddenly. Emily carefully put the empty pot down after filling up the tea cups. She remained standing at the stove to think. Picking up the cups she carried them back to the table. She thought that she was doing well in this first telling. Alex and Willie stared at her as she lowered herself into her chair. She sipped at her tea and waved Alex and Willie to do the same, a wave that indicated she wasn’t finished speaking. “Evie came down here to Florida not long after you were born maybe. She got a job over at St. Pete in one of the hotels; receptionist and switchboard for the telephones. DeeDee was always makin’ jig-saw puzzles. You know those lock together pictures of lakes or woods, whatever. Evie loved it. “Emily” she’d call. “Come look at the picture DeeDee has just finished.” I’d come over and look. Nothin’ much I thought but Evie was so proud. I’d just say nice, you know, to make Evie feel good. I mean they was just pieces of cut up cardboard. Anyone could do ‘em.” Alex looked at Emily. You mean that my aunt and DeeDee were...they were lovers...they lived together? “They were together in a way, yes.” “Well, how did you know my aunt? Were you here in Gulf Harbor already?” “I wasn’t always looking like a fish wife, you know. At my age it’s just easier. There isn’t much to get done up for in Gulf Harbor. Willie sat back smiled and gave a little laugh. “Evie and I met back in College. We went to Greensboro in North Carolina. Evie was a year ahead but we had some of the same classes. We were both rather pretty, so the boys hung around. Evie dated, but I was afraid of them. I spent as much time with Evie as I could. Later… after we were gone from school…I realized that I was in love with her, that it hadn’t been just a “schoolgirl crush”. Emily paused looking at Alex and Willie as if to judge their reaction. “Not long after college Evie got married. George Elwood Leonard was his name. They moved to New Jersey where he had a job offer. But they weren’t a good match. Then the Vietnam War and he was drafted. When he returned, they got a divorce. Evie had got her degree so she could get some decent jobs. I would write to Evie and she wrote back telling me all about life in New York City. She moved there after the divorce and began going out to women’s bars. That’s where she met DeeDee she wrote me.” “I was jealous when she wrote me about her friend DeeDee wondering about the years that I had been going from home to job, job to home for not much money. I could have been living’ with Evie, if I had tried, maybe.” Emily paused as though gathering her thoughts. Then she went on, stumbling a bit in her narrative. “Evie didn’t like the cold see, and Evie had savings…so she moved to St. Petersburg where Evie got that hotel job. A real step down for her bein’ educated and all, but there wasn’t much in Florida for an intelligent woman like her and she wasn’t the proud type, not Evie. She had an apartment in St. Pete…I forget just where…then Evie bought this house. It was private and had that house, where I live now, to rent out and help with the mortgage. We kept writing, Evie and I. Emily paused. She seemed hesitant to continue but then went on a bit nervously. One day I got a letter telling me that DeeDee had up and left, gone back to New York. Later I got a letter telling me that DeeDee was back and it was all going to work out. ” Evie kept her job until she retired. She loved it here. She planted all the clematis and orchid plants over the years. She told me that when she bought the place the back yard of the house was barren, just junk weeds and scrub oak. “So, you never met DeeDee?” Alex asked. “Never laid eyes on her. Emily looked away.” She left before I came down.” She stood up from the table looking around as if in search of something. She went to the stove and began puttering. “How could she afford to own the house with my aunt?” Alex called out. “What did she do?” Emily came back to the table but didn’t sit. “Maybe Evie put her on the title to hold her. Maybe Evie thought that she could keep her here that way. Maybe DeeDee didn’t know that she was on the deed.” “Why didn’t my aunt tell her?” “I didn’t ask “So, she just left?” “She told Evie that she was taking the car and going over to Miami to see a friend from New York.” Willie had been sitting there licking on a lemon wedge from her tea listening along with Alex. Something didn’t sound quite right she thought. “But didn’t you say that Evie called you over to see the Jig Saw puzzles that DeeDee was working on? “ Emily stared at Willie suddenly feeling pale and week kneed. She felt threatened. “I said that wrong. I meant that there was puzzles on the side table that DeeDee must have done at some time. Evie kept them. That’s what I meant.” “But if DeeDee had left, why would Evelyn still want to keep the puzzles?” “How do I know what was in Evie’s mind, you know! I mean maybe she thought DeeDee would come back like Evie hoped. That way DeeDee would know that she was still part of the house; the puzzles were still on the table. I don’t know what Evie thought! With Evie getting sicker and all, I don’t sometimes remember exactly when or how things happened.” “Well,” Willie asked, “How do you come into this story?” Emily looked at Willie sharply. She was about to wind up this tale, tired of it now. Evie was dead after all and she was left alone. What more could she say? But Miss Force of Nature here wants to know it all and Emily had no intention of telling it. “Up in Lynchburg I was out of work. The company combined with another and my job ended. I didn’t have much. The job ended before my pension would kick in. Not that that would matter, my Social Security hardly buys bread today. I wrote and shared that with Evie and Evie wrote me to come on down. She said the house was paid for and I could have the cottage in the back if I liked. We had been writing all these years every month, you see, sometimes more. It was different I those days. Everybody wrote and mailed letters and everybody answered them. Anyway, Evie wrote me all about DeeDee. That’s how I knew her” “When was that?” Alex asked, wanting to speak before Willie did. “Five years ago. 1990. I gave up my apartment. Packed up some stuff and came down. While I was packing, my heart…I realized that I still had the same feeling for Evie…my heart did make a racket I have to tell you. I came by bus and at each town that it stopped I had to get out and walk around, take a deep breath, calm myself. I arrived at St. Pete and there she was, Evie, standing at the bus stop. I knew her in an instant. She looked exactly the same to me. Beautiful. It was over 40 years since college which was the last time, I saw her. “She took me back here from the bus stop and showed me the cottage. The first night I stayed with her, I slept in the guest room. We talked all night like no time had passed. It was near forty years and we were behaving like we had just come from class.” “The next morning, I moved into the cottage, the both of us scrubbing it clean and making it proper.” “Finally, my Social Security kicked in so I could pay Evie some rent.” “When did she tell you, she had cancer?” “About a year after I settled in. We would eat together at her house. She told me over pork chops.” “Alex’s aunt was a Lesbian and had a Lesbian affair. Are you a Lesbian?” Willie asked in a kinder voice. Alex could see that she was looking at Emily with less arrogance and she felt easier. Still it was a bold question. “I don’t know what I am. I’ve never been with anyone. There were some men in Lynchburg when I was younger asked me out but I didn’t go. A teacher, a woman at the school who lived alone, invited me for dinner couple times but I never returned the invitation and she didn’t ask again. I guess I always loved Evie. From the first moment I saw her running across the campus I loved her. She had the blondest hair cut short and was wearing a pair of real short shorts with a matching top. They were called sunsuits. It was a fad for a while among the girls. A coupl’a of them did it. The school didn’t like it, they were supposed to wear skirts. Oh my, she was so pretty and so full of life. She ran like a wood’s creature between her classes so not to be late. She kind of leapt through the air. My heart almost leapt too at the sight of her.” “How did you become friends at school?” “I just kept near her as much as I could and after a while, she just accepted that I was there and that we were friends and that is the way it was. I never had any thoughts…well, I did think sometimes that I wanted to kiss her…but that was, that was like kissing a friend. All the girls did it but we never did. Never.” “So, you took care of my aunt after she told you about the cancer. Did she suffer? I mean it was a long time between when she learned she had it and when she died?” “She had treatment; radiation and Chemo so she was pretty comfortable for most the time except when the Chemo made her sick. Later it got bad. I knew she was in real pain but didn’t want to tell me. I suspected that she was saving the pain pills and I didn’t say nothing about it. I figured that she would know when it was her time and it was nobody else’s business.” They sat there, three women in silence now. Alex felt a growing bond with this strange woman, Emily, who had cared for her aunt, was in love with her aunt for her entire life. Would she, Alex, always feel that way about Willie? She hoped and prayed so.

When they got back to the house Alex asked Willie about the call from Liz. Willie didn’t answer right away. “II’s nothing Sandy, but I may have to go back to New York in the next day or so.” “But why” Alex asked. Is Liz in some kind of trouble?” “No, it seems that I am. Remember that little round piece that I showed you, the white marble colored plastic-like bit that I found in the hall at the Dakota? I picked it up thinking that someone could slip on it and fall.” “Yes, you gave it to me. I put it in that bowl of pebbles in the kitchen. Why?” “Apparently, it’s a pearl. A real pearl. My Dakota client put her earrings back on after seeing me out and a pearl from the pair was missing. She told Liz that I must have taken it and if I return it, she will not call the police.” “But it was in the service hall you told me. How could it get out there?” “She took me through the kitchen to unlock the door to the hallway. It must have fallen off when she rang for the elevator. She always liked to see me out herself and would try and chat for a moment then she’d go back in before the elevator operator came. I’ve told you that I suspect she had an unrealized attraction to women and I fit the bill.” “Oh, Lord. What do we do? Alex asked. Why can’t you call and explain? Tell her that as soon as you or we get back you’ll bring it to her.” “You forget that I’m Black, Alex. Black help are the first to be suspected if something goes awry in a white person’s household. I have to go back, get the pearl, bring it up there and tell her what must have happened. I don’t think that she really wants to report it.” “But what if they do? What if you have to stay? I have to go with you.” “No, listen, I’ll work it out. I’m sure that I can explain it all. She wouldn’t want the police coming. She lives in The Dakota for heaven’s sake, Sandy.” “Don’t talk to me that way, Willie. I’m frightened. I don’t know what to do.” “I know, I know. I understand, I do. I sometimes envy you your protected life. Things like this happen a lot in my world seldom in yours. You don’t have to do anything but love me and know that I love you. We’ll get through this, honest.” Willie grabbed Alex into her arms and held her while kissing her choppy blond hair. Alex soon stopped shaking. Leaning back to look at Willie, she wiped away the tears that had begun to run down her pale cheeks. “That’s better, Sandy, that’s better.”

The next morning Willie flew from Tampa back to New York to protect herself and Alex from any legal trouble. Meanwhile Alex had a meeting with her attorney. After they went over some minor papers Alex stopped for lunch at a small walk-in food shop. On leaving she noticed a used furniture store nearby and went into it to see if they had an old radio that she could buy for the house. The store also had a collection of used books and after finding only an enormous old Magnavox console much too big for the house, she browsed through the books. Her fingers rippled across a small slim volume. Alex glanced around before picking it up. The Well of Lonliness by Radcliffe Hall. Alex had read this Lesbian novel when she first discovered her own identity. And here was a copy in Southwest Florida of all places. She opened the book. On the inside cover was written Janet Auster, St. Petersburg. She had to buy the book but didn’t want to draw attention to it. She leafed through other paperbacks and, with a smile, found what she needed. At the counter Alex put down The Well of Lonliness. Beside it How to Make Friends and Influence People by Bishop Sheen. The woman at the cash box looked sympathetically at Alex and wished her a good day, calling after her, “Good luck, Dear.” Alex smiled.

When she got back to the house, she became anxious waiting for Willie to call. The call came that evening. “I saw her. I returned the pearl. I explained how and where I found it. I told her that I didn’t know expensive jewelry so I had no idea that it was a pearl and not some kid’s marble. She very coolly accepted my explanation. Stumbling with her words she told me that she had to cancel all further appointments. Her husband insisted on it she said. It was she who convinced him not to have the loss investigated. She was quivering like a wet puppy. I felt sorry for her and had an impulse to put my out hand, touch her arm or something. Oh, thank the Lord I didn’t. She might have collapsed in my arms. I’ll be back tomorrow. I have asked Liz to cover for me indefinitely.” “Oh, Willie. I am so glad. I was frightened that you couldn’t come back.” “Well, it might not be completely over. She told Liz that her husband wants her to do a complete inventory of her jewelry and any small silver pieces that might be missing. She appeared embarrassed Liz told me” “I will be on a plane tomorrow.”

Alex arranged for a car service and picked Willie up at the Tampa airport. Back at the house, Willie got out first with her overnight bag and went in as Alex paid the driver and collected her things including the makings for a welcome home dinner that she had the driver stop for on the way back. As she moved away from the car she saw and heard a group of girls further down the beach front jumping rope and chanting. “Nigger, Nigger, come to dinner half past two Alligator double dater out goes you!” She stood in shock and watched the girls skipping in and out of the spiraling rope. She recalled skipping rope as a girl but she had never, never heard such terrible words uttered by any one. She ran to the house to see if Willie had heard the girls. Swinging in through the porch she raced to the kitchen. Willie was there. From there you couldn’t hear the chanting. “How did things go with your attorney Willie asked quietly?” “Oh, it was simple. A release for the funeral home. I am going to have Evie cremated. That was in her will. Emily might not like that but it’s in the will. Alex, still in shock nervously put the groceries away.” “So, no service of any kind?” Well, we will all go to the funeral home. I mean you and Emily and myself. We can just say a prayer and then leave. There is no one else to ask.” “Nigger, Nigger” sounded faintly in the late afternoon air. Alex froze in place and looked at Willie. “I heard, Honey. I heard. Don’t get upset. It’s nothing new but it has been a long, long time. It’s not about me. They didn’t even see me. Their mother’s probably jumped rope to the same sordid ditty if we can call it that.” “What should we do?” Alex asked wanting so badly that it stops; she was ready to grab a broom and run out into the street after the girls so that Willie didn’t have to hear anything more but Willie smiled a tight smile and changed the subject before, she could go on. “You know those boys you saw tossing at the hoop when you first got here? Well, when you were at the lawyers, before I flew to New York, I went out, asked nicely for the ball and showed them a few shots. At first, they stood backing off looking at one another undecided what to do; stay or run. Two or three scooted off yelling something nasty back over their shoulder. I called one of the remaining boys over, a tall red-head and showed him where he was going wrong in shooting the ball. He tried it my way and made a ringer; so those left wanted to try it. Not much success since they need training. So, they are coming back for lessons in New York Street Style Basketball with Whilamina Hardy teaching them. I imagine that the girls will run screaming for home when they see me out there.” “I don’t understand you, Willie. The pearl business; now this and you don’t an angry. I’m the one who gets angry. I don’t understand, Willie. I hate it. Why didn’t you say something to your client? Why didn’t you go outside and tell those girls off? “Hey, Sandy you don’t think that a bunch of little girls are going to bring me down do you? Hell. I could tell you stories about your tribe…which I am not going too…that would stun you with disbelief. If I’m going to go after little girls, their parents will only have more ammunition. The Black Witch from OZ. threatened their sweet little chubby innocent babies.” “What do you mean by tribe? You mean Jews? That’s what they call Jews; the Tribe. So, I’m a member of a tribe. Is that it? Is that what you’re telling me? We, we Jews have been discriminatory toward Blacks? My parents supported voting rights, they sent money to Martin Luther King Jr. They were the most open minded welcoming two people I ever knew.” “Well, yes, Alex and it well could be that my mother was welcome to work as a maid for your mother.” They paused in place and stared at one another. “I’ve been angry, real angry. I marched, as a kid I screamed White Motherfucker in the streets! In truth I’m still angry at the injustice. But it’s corrosive. I couldn’t sustain anger and move on in life. I didn’t mean it was Jews who were a tribe I meant the White Majority. That’s a Tribe if there ever was one. Jews are sometimes referred to as a Tribe just as we are referred to as Queer. So, calm down, I’ve had a long day getting back down here to be with my little White Jewish Honey Bun.” Alex got up and ran to Willie and they clasped each other tightly. She stared at Willie, her anxiety mixed with her reaction to Willie’s cool poured out in a combination of laughter and tears. After a few moments getting herself together she asked “But, shouldn’t someone, anyone teach them about that word? “I’s OK, Sandy I’m ok. Not the word but me. The “N” word is unacceptable. But You can’t teach someone else’s children about language that they learned from them.

…

The next day Alex looked up the name Janet Auster in a telephone directory for St. Petersburg. There was no listing. She took the book out of her bag to be sure she had the spelling right. As she began to leaf idly through the volume, she found a small card that must have been a bookmark. It read; Janet Auster, 3714 West 12th Street, St. Petersburg. She showed the card to Willie and they decided to find West 12th and Janet Auster. If she was a Lesbian, she might have known Evelyn and DeeDee. They knew that in the early days in big cities gay women formed what might be thought of as a private club. They all knew one another but could not “Come Out” as one says now. At the West 12th Street address a woman came to the door at a ground floor apartment after she saw Alex and Willie approaching. She left the chain latch on and asked them what they wanted through the half-opened door. Alex asked about Janet Auster and the woman told them that Auster was in an assisted living facility downtown. She gave them the name and closed the door watching them as they walked away. They went to the facility and asked again for Janet Auster. They were directed to the 3rd floor where an aide told her that Auster was in the Sunshine Forever Lounge. She was the woman in the wheelchair with a blue shawl across her lap the aide told them. They found her, a very old stern-faced woman staring out of the window. She was seemingly lost in thought. Alex introduced herself. Willie decided it best to move away while Alex asked about DeeDee and Evelyn. She took a chair nearby and began to thumb through a worn and thumbed through copy of Country Living. Alex began with some polite chat asking about Janet. How she was, was she comfortable? She mentioned her aunt and said that she hoped to learn more about her. She wondered if Janet had known her or her friend, Delores Marino. Janet eyed Alex warily but seemed to like the attention from a younger person. Someone asking her about her own life. No one ever did. “Why are you asking me?” she said. “How did you get my name?” “I found a copy of a book, a book about women in a book store. Your name was in it” Auster sat looking at Alex then said “Radcliffe Hall?” Alex smiled and replied yes and that she had read the book when she was younger. Auster smiled; a small cringle of flesh around her mouth. She knew Evelyn, Auster replied slowly, the women all knew one another and exchanged phone numbers in case anyone was in need and yes, she had heard about a DeeDee from Evelyn but it was some time back, long before she gave up her apartment. “I do remember that Evelyn called me. She was whispering as though someone might overhear her. I remember thinking she sounded strange, not at all like the Evelyn that I knew… well knew casually. We weren’t really friends. I don’t recall the year. I think that she said that there was someone in her house and then hung up. I didn’t know what she wanted me to do. I don’t think that I ever heard anything more or anything from Evelyn again.” Auster sat back in her chair and gazed out of the window giving Alex the impression that she had said all she could. Alex turned to Willie to say it was time to go. “I had a friend,” Janet suddenly said.” I didn’t think that I would be alone like this. She died in an accident. I never met anyone else because it was a hard thing to do, meeting someone. I stayed in my apartment and before I knew it, I was old.” Smiling at her, Alex took Janet’s hand and kissed it “Thank you” Alex said. “Thank you for seeing me and for your help” Janet turned back to the window looking a bit less stern, her face a bit softer. They left the floor and the building while Alex related what little she had learned to Willie. “I would think that if DeeDee drove off in the car your aunt would have asked the police to recover it. She would have needed it. And the other person? The someone who frightened Evelyn? It had to be Emily.” “We’ll have to ask I guess” Alex replied as they walked toward town for a cab home. ”Yes we’ll have to ask, Willie said. There seems to be more to this story than Emily has shared with us.

When Alex and Willie returned to the house, Willie was unusually quiet. They had the box of papers from Emily and she began to look through them more carefully while Alex went to the bedroom to nap. There were letters to Evelyn apparently from Emily wrapped tightly in ribbon which neither she nor Alex felt that they should open and read but now she did. They were mostly chatting kinds of letters. What Emily was doing, asking Evelyn how she was and what she was doing? Emily wrote that her job was ending in one of the later letters and said she wasn’t sure what her plans would be. Then came the final letter. She thanked Evelyn for offering the small house saying that it would save her life. She asked if Evelyn’s friend, Delores, was living at the cottage? Or was Delores living in Evelyn’s house? There was a post card written a few weeks after that where Emily wrote that she was happy that the cottage was hers. She would let Evelyn know when she expected to arrive. She would come by overnight bus to Tampa and was relieved that Evie would meet her with her car. Willie sat back. So, Emily did know of DeeDee, as she called her, beforehand. She arrived here while Delores Marino was still living in the house with Evelyn which had been Emily’s life-long dream. And Evelyn did have a car so where was it? Where was DeeDee? Willie decided to go over to ask Emily about the car, ask her if she knew Janet Auster. There were too many issues un-answered. Willie slipped out the kitchen door and started down the zig-zagging path to Emily’s hous She knocked on the door to no answer. Knowing that Emily was in the house she opened the door and went in. Emily was by the kitchen sink washing her legs and feet with a wet towel. “Hi, there” Willie said as she smiled at the startled Emily. “I came over to ask you about Evelyn’s car. If DeeDee took it did Evelyn report it? Did she try to get it back? She would certainly need it.” “I don’t remember what Evelyn did. DeeDee drove away in it.” “You were here,” Willie said. “First you said that you didn’t know DeeDee. Now you say that she drove away in the car almost as if you saw her do it.” “I don’t know what you mean. I’m tired now. I want to lay down for a while.” Looking at Willie in an, I expect you are leaving manner. “Emily, I saw your note asking if Delores would mind you coming down here. I saw the card saying you were coming and that Evelyn would pick you up in her car. Alex and I did not want to pry into your letters but they were all there. If you didn’t want us to know that you were here at the same time that Delores Marino was, why didn’t you get rid of or hide your own letters?” “I didn’t notice my letters. It never crossed my mind that Evie would save them.” “Well she did save them.” “Alex and I saw a woman over in St. Pete named Janet Auster who had heard of DeeDee and she told us that Evelyn had called her and said that there was a problem. Did you ever know or hear of her? Evelyn said that there was someone here. Was that you?” “Oh, my God. Please, please go back to the house. I have to lie down. Where is Alex? Does she know? Leave me alone, won’t you? I didn’t know anyone in St. Pete. I didn’t know that woman. I have to think. I have to lie down and think.” Willie looked at Emily still standing by the sink. Her coloring had turned to ash and she was shaking. Her hands on the back rung of the chair to steady herself made it seem as though she had palsy. Willie turned and quietly left the house. An hour later Emily came directly into their kitchen and called out to Alex and Willie to hear her out. She sat silent for a few moments obviously gathering her thoughts. “Evie was becoming odd. At first, I thought that it was her pain but occasionally, I mean recently she would complain to me for no reason. Sometimes just calling out at nothing.” Emily dropped into a wooden kitchen chair and just stared at Willie. A blank stare even though tears were beginning to crest over her lower lids and run down her cheeks. “What happened then?” Willie asked sitting down too. Alex stood listening in the kitchen doorway. “I don’t know what had happened to change her. She came in the kitchen where I was making a lunch and asked me who I was and what was I doing in her house? I couldn’t believe what she was saying; believe the look of bewilderment on her face. I didn’t know what to do. She was not being Evie. She stopped just a few feet from me and said that Delores was coming very soon and that I had to leave. She said it in a firm voice. Then she turned and went up to the front of the house.” “I sat. I couldn’t stand up I was weak shaking with fear for her. I didn’t for a minute think that she would harm me. I had to think what to do. I had to protect her.” “I finally stood and walked down the hallway to find her. I saw that the phone was knocked off its cradle. I put it back. I came back along the hall to Evie’s room. Evie was curled up on her bed face to the wall, a sheet pulled over her. She whispered softly is that you Em? I said yes and sat for a minute on her side, on the bed I mean. Her hair was all atangle so I brushed it off of her forehead. It was damp and her brow was really warm. I and told her go to sleep and I leaned over and kissed her cheek.” “I thought to call an ambulance. But what would happen? I realized that she must be having some kind of mental breakdown. Maybe it was the cancer. If I called for EMS they might take her to some place away from here, away from her treatments. I had wondered for a while why sometimes she wasn’t thinking quite straight. And Delores Marino. There was nothing of hers in the house except the jig-saw puzzles that Evie said that DeeDee had done. Evie had told me that Delores had a sick Aunt up north that she was looking after and would come home soon. But I was here for a while by then and there were no calls, no letters from Marino. “I began to suspect that Delores Marino was a myth and I finally became convinced that there wasn’t…there could be no Delores Marino. That she was Evie’s fantasy; that she had this companion named DeeDee and they lived together. I don’t know how long she lived with this in her mind. I remember seeing her at the jig-saw puzzle one evening as I was coming in. She was moving pieces around so it looked like it was being worked on. She saw me and said I want this to be better for DeeDee. More interesting for her when she comes back. Whether she was delusion or had a child-like fantasy-friend like when we were children I don’t know. Maybe it had made her feel less lonely. Maybe, she became afraid. I mean with me around she may have been confused. Here I was, a real being, a living person and she felt torn between me and the long-time comfort of her fantasy Delores. I think that when she saw me in the kitchen, it frightened her, she had to erase my being from her mind to protect Delores’s existence. Then later, in the bedroom she knew me. They were silent. Emily had stopped crying and Willie looked at her as though she were an old friend in trouble. “The car. You mentioned a car. Since there was no Delores where is the car? I mean you said that she picked you up at Tampa. You told us that DeeDee drove away in the car?” “I wanted to fade DeeDee out of the picture and so I told you that she took the car. That was before I decided to tell you of Evie’s breakdown and that there was no Delores Marino. I didn’t want you to think less of her.” “I sold the car. Her medical expenses were piling up. Things her insurance didn’t cover. At first I thought, well she is going to die so just ignore them. But I didn’t want Evie to leave this world and have anyone think that she was irresponsible or a dead beat. Someone trying to get the house or something like that, so I sold her car and paid the bills from that money.” Willie crossed the room, knelt down and put her arms around Emily. They swayed slightly like that for a bit. Alex left the doorway and joined them. Emily confessed that she didn’t know what she would do without Evie to look after. She really only used her house to keep her things in or to give Evie some privacy at times, otherwise she was here all day and often she would stay over in the guest room if she and Evie stayed up late playing cards or Scrabble or some other game. And there was DeeDee. Evie never knew that she suspected that there was no Delores Marino. “I have to go home she cried out, I have to make a call” and she left for the cottage. Alex and Willie walked out of the house to the beach, a beach that they had never had time to enjoy and sat in the sand playing with the grains spilling through their fingers. A needed bit of time to calm themselves; to talk and at last relax. The next day Emily packed her things and they called a cab for Tampa where she would board a bus to go and live with a widowed cousin that she had called the night before. A woman somewhere in the Carolina’s. She didn’t want to tell Alex and Willie where. “We can’t keep in touch you know, we just can’t. It all just hurts too much right now. I have your address and when it’s time, when I can, I’ll write you, I love you both.” And so, with tears in her eyes she left.

Alex was unsure now about the house, the property. It seemed tainted with sadness. The boys had stopped coming for basketball and the girls down the street continued with their jump rope chant. It was clear that she and Willie would not be welcome at Gulf Harbor. Then Allan Martin of Martin and Martinez called and told Alex that he had succeeded in acquiring the property in Alex’s name. The original records showed that the payments had been in Alex’s Aunt Evelyn’s name from the beginning. The attorney was able to nullify any future claims. The property was now free and clear for transfer to Alex. Alex put the house up for sale. In a few months the property and other property on the boulevard was bought up by the town for a development for senior housing. The town re-sold the house and a new owner had it moved away from the beach. Alex was happy when she learned of that. She couldn’t keep the house but would hate to have seen it torn down. With the proceeds from the sale, Alex bought an apartment in a small building in the West Village for she and Willie. It was not The Dakota but it was home.

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