Rapture's Rendezvous

“So you do understand,” he said, letting his feet drop to the floor, scooting his chair up to the desk. He reached into a gold-embossed container and pulled a Cuban cigar from inside it. He bit one end off, spitting it into an ashtray, swirled the cigar around his tongue to wet it, then lit the other end, inhaling deeply, the one thing that he was still able to enjoy … since . .. Maria.

“Yes, Michael, there will be no further harassment from me,” Alice said, reaching for the stack of letters that were already signed. “And did you know that John Philip Sousa's famous band is going to be at the fair to play the opening song?”

Michael sighed heavily, seeing that she was smart to change the subject and return to the discussion of business matters, since he was determined to rid himself of her if she didn't. She had heard the determination in his voice. He was glad that this thing was finally settled. As for his sexual pleasures, he had ways of seeking out what release he could find beneath a woman's skirts. Alice wasn't the only woman available for such services in this large city of Saint Louis.

“Yes, I've heard,” he finally said, beginning to dip the pen in and out of the inkwell once again, then proceeding with the placing of his signature at the bottom of the pages. “‘The Hymn of the West.’ That's what the official song of the fair is going to be called.”

“And I hear that President Roosevelt isn't going to be able to make it after all,” she said, stacking the letters neatly in front of her.

Michael's head jerked upward. “What… ?” he gasped. “Everyone was so anxious to meet him. God. The United Mine Workers of America were eager to see him come here. You know we had hoped he would come to a meeting … see what we are accomplishing. Damn. What bad luck.”

“I know you were counting on it,” she murmured. “But the way they have planned his participation is quite unique. He's to press some sort of telegraph key from his office in the White House that will turn on the electric lights at the House of Electricity that's almost completed here. It's supposed to be the greatest array of electric lights that has ever been seen. Anywhere.”

“How is it that you know of these changes even before I?” Michael grumbled, flicking ashes from his cigar into an ashtray.

“Remember? I'm one top-notch secretary,” she boasted. “I keep up with things. I heard this news on a local radio program today while getting ready for work.”

“Wonders of the electrical age we are now beginning to be a part of,” he sighed, then resumed with his name scribbling.

“Michael… ?”

“Huh … ?” he mumbled, not looking up.

“What have you and the members of the union come up with about die Italian community? Have you decided what you're going to do at Hawkinsville? Have you any plans in progress?”

Michael handed the rest of the letters to Alice, then leaned back in his chair. He removed the cigar from between his lips and mashed it out in the ashtray, sighing heavily. “No. We haven't been able to accomplish a damn thing,” he grumbled. “Those people. They struggle so. They're a proud, hard-working people reaching up in what litde ways they can for dignity and a measure of self-determination. But just as soon as it appears they may have accomplished something in diat direction, Nathan Hawkins sends in his goons and scares the hell out of them.”

“How? What could they do?”

“From the few times I've gone to the saloons in Hawkinsville, I've heard talk of some of the coal miners’ having been grabbed in the dark of the night and beaten to a pulp. Such as that. It's a damn shame.”

“I've worried about you going there,” Alice said, placing the letters on her lap, crossing her hands over them. “You know Nathan Hawkins's men have to suspect something. That you're with the union. God, Michael. One of these nights, you're going to find a knife thrust between your ribs.”

Michael laughed hoarsely. “Let ‘em try,” he said. “I've got my own knife. I can be just as fast as the next person.”

“So you do plan to return?”

“Yeah. I have to continue to mingle,” he said. “The damn thing about it, though, is the Italians have become close-mouthed. I can't pry any information from them. That community is Nathan Hawkins's. Bought and paid for. Why. most of the Italians owe their souls to the country store.”

“What do you mean, Michael?”

“Ah, they don't know the first thing about figures,” he grumbled. “They buy grocery and household supplies at Nathan Hawkins's general store and put it on account, then pay double without knowing it when it comes time to pay up.”

“How horrible,” Alice said, rising. She went to the window, holding the letters to her chest. “I do wish you didn't have to be so involved with the union,” she quickly added.

“Alice . ..” Michael said, rising, going to stand next to her.

She smiled lightly. “I know,” she said. “I'm getting too personal again. But Nathan Hawkins's goons? What if they are wise to you? You know Nathan Hawkins will not allow his coal mine to go union. He would kill anyone who interferes.”

“Like I said. I mingle,” Michael said, thrusting his hands inside his front breeches pockets. “I dress the part of something besides a rich businessperson or a coal miner. When I go to Hawkinsville, I dress the part of a drunken bum. Surely no one will guess that I have something besides whiskey on my mind. Unless.. . .” he quickly added, lifting his lips into a lewd grin.

“Unless what, Michael?” Alice prodded.

“Oh, nothing,” he said, walking away from her, to pour him

self another glass of whiskey. He couldn't have revealed his thoughts of that moment to Alice. To do so would be to cause her to go into another rage, even though she had promised to not pry anymore into the sexual side of his life. But he had been thinking about Ruby's house. He had discoverd it by the pure luck of listening to another poor drunken slob bragging about his conquests with the wayward women at the whorehouse that sat back by itself, almost in the shadows of Nathan Hawkins's house. It had surprised Michael to hear of such a house so close to Hawkins's estate, and he had been quickly prompted to seek it out himself. And hadn't he been needing some encouragement in the ways of women? Hadn't so much been lacking . . . since Maria .. . ?

The surprise had truly come, though, when he had found that the house had been one of only Negro women. This had been a first for him … to enter a house run by a Negro madame … a house of only Negroes . .. and very skilled in the ways of men.