"HARRY & IVORY" – Chapter 19

"Harry & Ivory"

A love story you have not heard before.

   Chapter Nineteen

    "Tripping"

    The rain continued to beat on the roof and pelt the windows. Before dark, Harry made supper: black beans & rice, with ground chuck he had fried separately with garlic and bacon – the way the Cubans had taught him. Ivory loved it and Harry was amazed at how much she could eat. With their empty plates in front of them they sat at the table for nearly an hour – Harry in his pajamas and Ivory in her long, purple robe. Harry was asking for more about her history. "Tell me about that time you had to go to the hospital – the time you ate too many mushrooms. Was that the first time you tried them?"
    Ivory smiled. "Mmmm - hmmmm. But I was a little girl then an' I didn' know."
    "I thought you told me you still eat them." Harry sensed another lie, and he also wondered if Ivory was going to do the dishes.
    "Oh, no, I mean I ate too many. I didn' know two was enough, well, sometime if the weather be okay an' Daddy won' miss me, I eat three. I ate three the day your letter come."
    "You mean you can go right out there and pick them anytime?" Harry looked her in the eye, and Ivory turned to look out the dark window.
    "I know you think I'm lyin'. I keep 'em in the 'frigerator. I put 'em 'tween two pieces of bread an' it look like a sammich an' I write my name on it. An' nobody steal it 'cause one time I lef' a sammich in there wif' peanut butter an' jelly an' garlic-powder an' pepper, an' my Daddy, he tol' me to write my name on my stuff 'cause he took a big bite of it an' spit it out. But sometime I don' have any an' then one day after it rain for a while, there they be! An' sometime I hide 'em in the freezer."
    Harry smiled. "You know, when you're with me, you don't have to hide stuff. Okay? So tell me about the first time."
    "You mean when I was little?"
    "Yeah. How little?"
    "Ohhh.... I was ten or 'leven. I know I jus' be startin' to fill out some 'bout then." Ivory placed her hands over her breasts and cut her eyes toward Harry.
    "Stop it! God, you make me so horny!"
    Ivory looked down and smiled. "The firs' time I ate a bunch. A whole han'ful I think. Auntie Indigo had this book wif' pictures of the right kin', so... But it didn' say how many. An' later Auntie tol' me it's differen' for differen' folks. An' she hid the book. Maybe she give it to her albino."
    "I'm in Heaven," Harry said. "So what happened? Were you alone?"
    "I was in the farm where I be trespassin' that I tol' you about."
    "They made you sick? Is that why you went to the hospital?"
    "Oh, no.... Well, at firs' I feel like throwin' up but it wen' away. An' then I 'member I be jus' sittin' there, under this big tree, an the sun come out like moonbeams all over, an' the sky be all purple an' green, like jade green, an' I was sittin' in these leaves an' I could see through the leaves an' the sky be down there, too – no dirt, jus' sky shinin' through the leaves – so I started brushin' the leaves away wif' my hands 'cause I wanted to see what I be sittin on if there was no groun', but under the leaves it was all sky. So at firs' I thought I was in Heaven. I think I was peerin' through the leaves an' lookin' at that sky for the longes' time. An' then I look up an' I see all these bugs an' flies, an' I know it was normal 'cause they live in the woods, but they all be takin' the same path flyin' over me, through the trees, like there be highways up there in the air, an' I never notice that before. But I see it now when I'm outside – I can see that stuff wif'out the shrooms – an' I seen all these differn' bugs an' beetles, the ones that don' fly, they all be usin' the same paths through the bushes an' branches. I seen this one little bug, he walk along an' then he stop an' look up 'cause he worried somebody bigger come along an' pick 'im off, an' when he was sure it was okay he go on walkin' along, but real nervous. An' then I saw this beetle, he be bigger than the bug, an' I see that he use the same road, an' he cross over from branch to branch in the same places the way the little bug went, only this beetle he didn' look scared. An' he walk slower, too, real proud, an' he jus' traipse along, swayin' from side-to-side with no care in the whole worl'."
    Harry was fascinated. Ivory was describing one of his own acid trips. He watched her turn and look at him, and he knew that she was wondering if he understood.
    "Keep on going! I know what you're saying!"
    "Well – this was my firs' time but I 'member the whole thing. An' I 'member thinkin' that they lied about shrooms in school, an' I 'membered that Auntie Indigo said one time that shrooms was the Tree of Knowledge in the Bible. An' I thought, well, it too late now! I didn' get scared till later. I know people don' want to hear 'bout it – my Daddy, he say he don' ever wan' to hear 'bout it. 'Cept this one time, he was testin' his new run an' he got drunk an' he try to make me talk. He say: 'I'm sorry you don' talk to me no more an' I wish you can talk to me like the ol' days' – he always be bringin' up the ol' days – when we were small before Mama got sick. 'Cause she ain' my real mama but I didn' know that till I was big, but Daddy he wan' me to talk but he won' say nothin' 'bout my real mama. Nothin'. But I always keep my ear open, an' I foun' out some stuff, like when they thought I was sleepin'. An' I know my real mama, she didn' speak English an' no Spanish, an' I know that my Daddy, he almos' got killed when he brought me home an' they had to fin' this man, not a real doctor, an' he cut the bullet out wif'out no police. An' I know that Mama she be jealous about my real mama an' Daddy, he 'fraid to say nothin' 'bout her if he know Mama be listenin'. 'Cause one time Daddy an' Auntie Indigo be talkin' about it real quiet so Mama couldn' hear an' they thought I was gone. An' I don' know if she be still alive but sometime I get this feelin' she be thinking about me and wonderin'. So I ast Connie to ast Daddy about her an' he come right out an' sit nex' me an' he say: 'Baby, I don' know if your mama is still alive but it don' make no difference 'cause I have a new mama who love me.' But I didn' answer nothin' 'cause he know I always be wonderin' about the real one but he won' tell me. So I don' need be talkin' wif' him about nothin'!"
    "He loves you."
    "Mmmm - hmmmm. But he don' love me for me. He jus' love me for my real mama 'cause I be part of her. He don' love me for me."
    Harry probed his memory. Ivory must have lied to him about her birth the first time. He didn't want to start an argument, but he had to know. Even so the story was so beautiful to him. "You said your mother wanted to rinse you in bleach water before your father got home, so how do you know that?"
    "Ohhh.... Sometime I think they tol' me that bleach story at firs' so I b'lieve Mama is my real mama. 'Cause I be blacker than her. I be blacker than everybody, my brothers, Connie, Auntie Indigo, my Daddy...."
    "So your father got shot when he went to get you? To bring you home?"
    "I heard 'em talkin' about it."
    "I think your mother must have been just so super beautiful. I'll bet she's still beautiful."
    "Mmmm - hmmmm. I have to go to the bafroom."
    Harry smiled. "Well, I've seen worse bathrooms. I'm going to miss that room one day."
    Ivory gave him a quizzical look and got up. While she was gone Harry cleared the table and rinsed off their dishes. He added them to the growing pile at the side of the sink. Back in the bedroom, he propped himself up on the pillows with the magazine he had started before supper. But he couldn't read. He was wondering about Ivory's mother and Ivory's father getting shot bringing the baby home. Harry suddenly sat up. "French!" he shouted. He pictured Ivory's mother. He cracked the bathroom door. "Your mother! She speaks French!"
    Sugar cane.... Tall, black women carrying baskets on their heads, no hands, gliding along narrow paths in the tropical sun....
    Ivory emerged from the bathroom.
    "Dishes," Harry said. "Your turn."
    Ivory sent Harry a hateful look and turned back. "Your kitchen be differen' than ours an' I don' know where nothin' is!"
    "The last time I did the dishes you sat there and watched every move I made. Now git."
    For the next few minutes Harry sat still in the bedroom and listened for sounds coming from the kitchen. He heard the water running, and the dishes being placed into the water. Then nothing. He sighed and got up, padding into the kitchen in his bare feet. Ivory was at the sink, peering out of the window there over the back yard, the glass black and glistening with the rain. There were tears in Ivory's eyes, and running down her cheeks.
    "Are you okay, Ivory?"
    "No!"
    Harry walked up and was about to hug her but she pushed his arms away.
    "Soon as I'm through wif' these fuckin' dishes!"
    "Okay! Okay!"
    "I don' have no dishes at home – Connie do 'em! I need to be home, anyhow! I be way overdue! My family be worried 'bout me! They gonna call the law!"
    Harry grabbed her by the shoulders and shook her. "You've got fifteen minutes to get these fucking dishes done, and they better be clean!" He stomped out of the room.
    In exactly fifteen minutes, Ivory was back in the bedroom. She looked past Harry and slid into bed, wearing her robe.
    "They all done?"
    "Mmmm - hmmmm."
    "Was it so bad?"
    "You can dry 'em."
    "No, you can dry 'em!"
    Ivory flicked off the bed-cover and returned to the kitchen, leaving Harry to snatch the cover back up to his waist.
    "Bitch!" He was not really angry but he thought he needed to be. To keep things from getting out of hand....
    When she finally returned, Harry stopped her before she got to the bed. "Robe off!"
    The robe slid to the floor and Harry's heart melted.
    He rallied. "Now hang it on something," he said quietly. "Don't just leave it on the carpet." He watched her fold the bathrobe and drape it over a chair. He swallowed involuntarily, his eyes fixed on her incredible, dream-date body.
    "Nex' time you fuck me I wan' money for it!" Her eyes locked into his as she stood over him, on his side of the bed.
    "You already got clothes, shoes, a new car..."
    The anger left Ivory's face and she looked away. He grabbed her up under the arms as she climbed over him, his thumbs in her shaved pits.
    Ivory smiled. "I forgot 'bout the car," she said.

* * *

    On Saturday morning, they drove the antique Ford F-1 pickup out to what used to be called the Bird Road Extension. Because of the new turnpike, Harry had trouble finding it. But the old truck was running pretty good – it was sprung kind of stiff and it rattled some – but Ivory seemed to be enjoying the ride. When Harry was younger, he and his friends used to hang out at an old garage and junkyard there, west of the city. He was hoping the guy who ran the place, Billy-Cain Wilson, was still there. Harry needed to have a tow-bar made up for the pickup so he could tow it back home with Love Jones, and Billy-Cain would do the job without ripping him off.
    After circling around a few times, Harry finally found what was left of the old dirt road and turned onto it. The old Ford rumbled and purred and bounced along happily even though Harry had to shift down into low gear over some of the rough spots.
    "This be the Everglades?"
    "Well, the start of it." As usual, Harry was having trouble keeping his eyes on the road. Ivory was wearing something new out of the endless supply of stuff she'd compacted and brought along in her knapsack: a cut-off T-shirt that had printed across the middle of it:
    PALM BEACH
    The little shirt rode high off her points and whenever Harry could spare a hand he would slide it up under there. Twang on those rubbery tits. She'd be worth a million dollars in Saudi!
    Oh, no, she's black.
    They like those red-heads....
    He passed the crossing in the dirt where he should have turned. "Hang on, Baby!" Harry stomped the throttle and cut a U-turn, throwing dirt and gravel in a wide arc.
    In another minute the old, familiar buildings were in sight. Tin roofs and tin siding. Rows of ancient, rusted-out vehicles. The old Chrysler hemi Billy-Cain drove for years, out in front, on blocks.
    The office was still missing a door after all this time....
    "Still here!" Harry pulled up and left Ivory in the pickup. A beefy redneck, Harry's age, with a crew-cut and clear-plastic GI glasses, was reading a girlie magazine behind the counter. More magazines in a stack under the black dial-phone.
    "Billy-Cain still here? Billy Wilson?"
    "Nope. He passed on."
    "Yeah? When was that?"
    No answer.
    "Well, I need a tow-bar installed on that old pickup out there. And I'm also looking for a title for it."
    "Shoot," the man said, not even looking up.
    "Shoot? What happened to real words, like shit?! You a Christian or something?"
    The man slapped the girlie mag down on the desk, full page ad on the back, a 1-900 number and a picture of an oriental girl with silky, straight pubic hair – holding a telephone. "Let's cum together." Real, forbidden-fruit type stuff. Long, black hair down to the crack of her ass.... Definitely not a wife.
    The guy gave Harry a crooked smile, which had been percolating since he heard the word Christian. "Let's see what you got out here."
    Back into the sunlight. The man kicked an empty beer can out of the path and hitched up his pants. It was an empty Billy Beer with a bullet-hole in it. The faded and shredded cans were everywhere.
    "Billy Beer!" Harry said. "These cans are collector items now!"
    "Boss likes to keep 'em around for target practice." He stood back from the front of the pickup. "This here's a '51." He spit, winging a lunger toward Ivory's side. "I got a title for a '55 but they look too different to do you any good. And I got a title for that rusted-out '49 in back. Same problem."
    "Yeah, well.... How about a tow-bar? Can you slap one on in a hurry?"
    "In a hurry?" The man was looking at Ivory. He put his hands on his hips.
    "While we wait."
    "You got anything to trade?" Like dope, or pussy?" The man moved up closer to Ivory's window.
    "Cash."
    "How far you going to tow this thing?" The man turned and headed back toward the office. "Bring your friend."
    Harry followed him, without Ivory.
    "You got that gal glued to the seat out there, uh-huh, well...."
    "She's mine."
    "Yeah, uh-huh. Listen, Percy. It's easier to swap titles on one of them nigger gals than on that truck out there."
    "Let's get down to business. I got six-hundred miles ahead of me."
    "Towin' her to Georgia, huh?"
    "Florida panhandle."
    "That's a whole different world up there, ain't it," the man said, suddenly turning, and breathing in Harry's face. "I don't do tow-bars. Less you got something you can trade. Wouldn't take long."
    "Fucking jerk!" Harry stepped back, and turned toward his truck.
    "Hey! Percy! That little nigger – she real tight?"
    Harry wheeled around, his right hand digging into the small of his back. He was cocking the 9MM Walther as it came up, the barrel shoved up under the man's nose. "As tight as this fucking P-38 pistol barrel. You understand now?"
    "Yes sir."
    "Want a demonstration?"
    "No, sir! I didn't mean any harm."
    "What's that leaning up against the shed over there. Don't move!"
    The man carefully turned his head, the pistol barrel tweaking his ear. "That's a tow-bar. It belongs to U-Haul."
    "Yeah, sure. Put it in the back of my truck!"
    The man slowly backed away and turned.
    "And keep your hands away from your pockets!" Harry stayed right on him while he hefted and loaded the ungainly piece of equipment into the back of the pickup.
    Ivory was looking straight ahead through the windshield.
    "Call the law," Harry said, "and I'll come right back with them, with the dope dog!"
    "Yes sir."
    Harry pulled out a fifty dollar bill and tossed it at the man.
    When he got inside the truck, he hoped it would crank. "Hate to have to ask for a jump now," he said, smiling, looking at Ivory. Her face was expressionless, her hands in her lap, folded over her .38 revolver.
    The pickup fired right up. They took the dirt road back to civilization fast, a rooster-tail of dust billowing out behind them. Ivory slid her gun back into her purse and looked back, a smile on her face now. She picked up Harry's 9MM.
    "The seat be dirty. My Daddy, he say never let a gun get dirty."
    "Right. I decocked it and it's back on safety. Hold it for me till we can pull over." Harry thought about what had happened, and wondered if Ivory thought he got violent like that frequently. Actually, it had been some time.
    Let her believe it. She'll know not to fuck with me.
    "Ivory, would you be able to fire your gun if you had to, you know, use it if somebody tried to attack you. Kidnap you?"
    "Mmmm - hmmmm." Ivory said her "Mmmm - hmmmm" loud, to overcome the noise of the vehicle.
    Harry laughed. And the tow-bar sounded good, slamming around in the back. "I love you, Ivory!"
    "Mmmm - hmmmm."
    "You ever try to hit anything with it?"
    "Oh, yes, my Daddy, he make me practice, an' he say if I don' practice I don' need be carryin' it."
    Harry nodded. "That's good! He's right!"
    Smooth pavement. The Magic City. The antique Ford no longer rattling. "You like this truck?"
    "Well...."
    "Well what? It's a '51!"
    "Well, it don' have no radio. No cassette."
    "Yeah, well, it's a cruel world, Ivory."
    "Mmmm - hmmmm."

     <end chapter-19>

Humanism with attitude! Rev: 10 April 2005