Cottonwood Cove
It had already been a long day, but we had one more thing to do before turning in for the night. With Freckle out of commission for the day we had to make some arrangements, and now Rocky and I were now gliding along a rural road on the backside of St. Louis to meet Captain Kehoe. As I sat in the passenger seat with nothing to do but stare out into the black, my mind couldn't move on from what I had just done. Sure, the guy probably deserved being sent down to Hell and there was little doubt in my mind that if he had the opportunity, he would have done worse to Freckle and Ivy. But at the same time no one has that kind of confidence naturally. It's a rule of nature not to mess with someone's younger kin. Doesn't matter if it's a bear or a feline, there are consequences. That guy I just iced hadn't had to suffer any sort of consequence before, and that was unnerving. Ony someone rich or powerful could afford to hurt others and get away with it Scot free!
"Now you're the one looking down." Rocky commented as he took a turn. He was right, Rocky was acting more himself after the events of today. Perhaps seeing his cousin hurt at the farmhouse jolted him from his depression? In any case, I wasn't so much sad as concerned.
"I think I may have made a mistake, Rocky."
"What? Offing the guy who injured Freckle and assault Miss Pepper?"
"Yeah. I shouldn't have done it."
"Shouldn't have done it? Ethan, if anyone in this city deserved to have their head blown off it's the guy who messed with our family."
"I'm not regretting putting that guy where he belongs—"
"Sending him straight down to hell is a fitting end if you ask me." Rocky declared, and for a moment I could see a righteous anger in his eyes. Perhaps if I hadn't done the deed Rocky might have instead.
"I don't disagree. But we are supposed to be keeping ourselves out of trouble."
"And is that what you're doing with Asa Sweet? Staying out of trouble?"
Well, he had me there. I didn't reveal to anyone the full extent of my involvement, but Asa had a need for a competent triggerman and there were many loose ends to tie up before the gang war brought enough attention to the wider world. Nearly two dozen gangsters dead in a quarry is a hard one to cover up. I had been asked to cover the blood stains with more blood in hopes that solid evidence would be lost in the shuffle.
"That's different, Rocky. Eventually Asa's superiors would have sent more people after us and there's no way we would win in the long run. Even now I doubt we can keep this operation going forever. Lackadaisy is stable, for now, but how long will that last?"
"Blasphemy! Ethan, the Lackadaisy is doing better than it has in over a year, and much of the praise is deservedly yours. So you killed some schmuck who forgot his place? That's a small cloud, not a thunderstorm."
"After a long summer in St. Louis, Rocky, one thing I've learned is that one day a hard rain is going to fall. It doesn't take a prophet to predict an oncoming storm, but maybe you're right. I didn't leave much of a trace behind let alone anything someone could use to figure out my identity. And a guy who acts like a brutish thug is bound to make a few enemies. I just hope that his friends go after their known enemies instead of us."
"Well, now that you're coming full circle back to a positive way of thinking, I believe we're here."
Rocky took a turn down a narrow two-track path which opened by some backwater bend in the river. Even in September the mosquitoes were something to behold in the swamp between the Missouri and an oxbow lake. It was the perfect place for illegal activities though due to the canopy of cottonwood trees. No light comes in, no light goes out. Upon flashing our headlights out at the water, a responding signal confirmed we were in the right place.
Holding a lantern, Kehoe called out as his craft motored close to shore. "You're late!"
"Apologies!" Rocky replied. "We had a personal matter come up that required Ethan's attention."
"And what would the nature of this matter be?" He pried.
"That's the meaning of "personal", Kehoe. Besides, it's nothing that would affect you." I replied with some annoyance. "Now, are we going to have story-time on the water, or would you like to get paid and motor home to port?"
"Yeah, yeah. I'll tell the boys to haul the goods out."
Moving the booze into the trunk of the sedan took all of ten minutes. Rocky had learned to use towels and other materials to pad the fragile glass while I had installed a metal jacket of armor in the box just in case we were ever in a shootout again. Not only would that protect our product, but we'd be less likely to get cut to ribbons by a tommy gun.
As the diesel-wheel paddled off into the night, Rocky closed the lid on the trunk and strapped it down tightly. Stepping into the sedan, I turned the engine over and got the lights up before shifting into gear. As well rolled her home it was Rocky's turn to look off into the darkness. I couldn't tell what he was thinking exactly, but I had a feeling.
"So, about today…"
"I suppose I should apologize for this morning."
"No, Rocky, no apology is needed. I was getting worried though. I've never seen you depressed like that."
"I try not to show it, but I miss her every day. Today it just hurt too much to hide. I had a dream about her last night, and for the first time in a while I didn't want to wake up…"
I sighed. No one, least of all me, could blame Rocky for being in a bad mood on the anniversary of his mother's death. "You know, my own mother has been gone for a few months now. She passed away in March. Mom and I had plenty of differences, but she will always be missed."
"I guess we're two members of the 'dead parents' club, aren't we?" Rocky said, his eyes fixated on the stars above us,
"It's a big club, Rocky. But our little family is formed around loss. You've lost your mother; I've lost my own parents. Freckle lost a father, and his mother isn't talking to him. None of us are alone in that feeling."
"But you have Isabella and Riley. Freckle has Ivy. I've got no one. Twenty-three and if it weren't for you, I would still be living in this car. But days like today remind me that eventually everyone leaves."
"Are you afraid of that? Being alone?" I asked but got no reply. Taking a deep breath, I adjusted my grip on the steering wheel. "Well, for whatever its worth, Rocky. I'm not going anywhere. Though you're probably going to have to look somewhere else for a girlfriend. I think I'm taken already."
I could hear him laugh quietly at the thought. "It's not a girlfriend that I'm after though. I just… you were right. I don't want to be alone. I need to belong somewhere. Belong to someone."
"You belong with us Rocky. The Kelly clan has gotten small lately, but you and Freckle are part of it now and no one is going to tell me otherwise. If that's not enough, I understand. There's no way Riley or I could replace the people you've lost, especially you're mother. Maybe if you ask the universe, it will be nice enough to give you what you need?
The rest of our trip to the Lackadaisy was spent in silence. I couldn't take my eyes off the road for long, but as we got out of the bottomlands and into the fields surrounding our fair city the stars shone brightly. We were under a blanket of living skies where the past danced above us from St. Louis to infinity.
Competing with a Dead Man
As the band played slow and steady on the stage. Wick was once again using illicit beverages to forget about yet another hard day's work. Though he was hesitant at first to buy the property above the Lackadaisy. Now that the renovations were done and the speakeasy was running exclusively out of the neighboring garage, all was well in his world. No one suspected a thing, and besides a shared freight entrance there was nothing, not even a paper trail, which could tie his business to Mitzi May's.
While he was satisfied with the arrangement, deep down he was still conflicted about the southern cat that caught his eye all those years ago. His heart wanted Mitzi May. An intelligent, humorous, and beautiful woman was more than he could have ever hoped for. At thirty-two, he was in the prime of his life and his many years of labor were finally bearing fruit. He was soaring high, carrying family wealth to new heights. Yet there were still lingering issues and he resolved himself to put them to bed once and for all that night. Or so he hoped. First, he needed more liquid courage.
Finishing off his third glass, he beckoned Horatio to fill him another one. The younger, cheerful cat was happy to oblige. "Another glass of the same, Mr. Sable?"
"I aim to finish off the bottle tonight, Horatio. Mitzi says she's getting a new load in tonight."
"Yes, but that's hardly the stuff you'll want to drink, Wick." Mitzi said as she glided toward the bar and took a seat next to the businessman. "The stuff Rocky and Ethan are bringing back is more akin to the Mississippi river water than anything as fine as that brandy."
The sight of Miss M walking in from the back rooms distracted Wick. "Ah, Miss M. Looking lovely as usual. I'll be happy to save some of the fine brandy if you're looking for a taste."
"Make it two glasses in that case, Horatio." Mitzi said, "I can't let our friend keep drinking all by himself."
As the two savored their distilled wine, those conflicting feelings came back. Even so, he pushed onward. "So, speaking of friends…"
Mitzi perked her ears before turning to listen closely. "It's been a few months now since that dreadful business down in my old quarry."
"And I'll never forget how you rode in like a knight in shining armor. Or a Dodge farm truck, but close enough I suppose."
"I'd do it again in a heartbeat, Miss M. But since then, well, despite living in the guest house and having a ball on Sunday afternoons…"
Mitzi could see where this was going. "Wick, dear. This is certainly something we can talk about later—"
"I won't have the courage to speak on this later. Please, Mitzi, please listen for a moment."
Mitzi grabbed his hand and held it. "Alright, I owe you plenty for all you've done to keep this little operation going and all of us alive. I'll listen, you speak."
"Thank you." Wick finished off glass number four. "Mitzi, I've had my eye on you for ages now. I'd still help you, even as a friend, but I must know. The Lackadaisy is running again, and Atlas has been gone for over a year. I don't see you seeking out anyone else, and you spend as much time with me as you do down here in the speakeasy. And still you keep your distance. I will understand if you aren't interested, but if you are, what can I do to make this work?"
Mitzi looked down, shamefully remembering the things she had done months earlier. It was out of desperation, but she had stolen it from him. He forgave her of that and even seemed to start trusting her again. But she had also tried to manipulate him and that evening in the wine cellar he had admitted to having feelings for her. Truth be told she was flattered. And, at least to an extent, Wick was endearing. Even at her worst he had treated her as nothing less than a friend. But, the past still pulled at Mitzi, and she still couldn't shake Atlas May. Against all odds a small piece of his legacy was saved, and in turn she could put off her mourning, keep it hidden from everyone else. For a brief period she had, in fact, let go. That night in the quarry was the start of it. But old habits die hard, and this was one she was still conflicted about finishing off.
Mitzi's eyes wandered up past Wick to Atlas. Wick immediately noticed, turning around to see the portrait looking down on him. She was still Atlas May's woman even after his passing. With that question answered, he turned back to look at his empty glass.
"Wick, I want to. Really, I do. But—"
"He really was something. Like I said, I understand. Forget I asked."
"Wick, dear. I'm glad you asked. I only wish I had a better answer to give. It's not that I don't appreciate your friendship or all you've done to keep the speakeasy from closing, but I don't know if I can truly move on. I miss him every day, Wick. But you are better than him in so many ways, and in the end, I know you'll find the one for you. If it would help, I think I've finally got enough money saved to find a decent apartment—"
"No, Mitzi. It's alright, you can stay in the guest house for as long as you like. It's not like anyone comes to visit me anyway. And thank you for an answer."
"How about a change of subject, then?"
"Agreed. So, how are the boys and young Riley getting along on that new farm? I'll have to see it sometime this fall or winter."
Mitzi smiled thinking about her small crew. True, each had their shortfalls. Rocky was accident-prone, Freckle could still be a loose cannon, and Ethan… well, there were still times when she couldn't tell if she was talking to the brave young man who helped the speakeasy find its feet or the "ghost" that killed scores of rivals and enemies. Yet all three were loyal. Loyal to her, loyal to each other, loyal to the speakeasy.
"On the farm? I hear they're doing well. At least that's what they say. But it is getting dangerous for them out on the streets. Did I tell you Freckle and Ivy were attacked today?"
Wick looked horrified. "They were attacked! Who hurt them? Are they alright?"
"Freckle was cut up, but he'll be okay. Nothing, a few stitches can't fix. They didn't seem to touch Ivy much beyond a couple of bruises. I've never seen Ethan so angry before, I fear the poor souls who hurt those two kids are about to meet an untimely end."
"Who did it?" Wick asked, curious. Mitzi pointed at the door as it opened. "You can ask our resident sharpshooter himself."
Consequence of Pride
With two armloads of bottles, Rocky and myself made our way down into the depths of the cave, opening the door to find the speakeasy in a quiet, relaxed state. The amber lights above dimly lit what was once the biggest and best gin joint in town. Though we still had a long way to go, things were looking up. At least now we had regular customers coming and going on a week night. The veterans wouldn't be around until the weekend, but in the meantime, we hosted whoever got their hands on a pin. Our most regular and familiar patron was there to greet us at the bar.
"Evening Gentlemen! I trust the weekly run went well?" Wick said as he polished off the last of his brandy bottle.
"Got the goods, no hitches or problems this time." I replied.
"It's a strange feeling to have an unequivocal success for once." Rocky added.
"Say, Mitzi was just telling me that Freckle and Miss Pepper ran into some trouble this afternoon."
"Yes, some guy up on The Hill ruffed them up. Poor kid got cut and kicked, but he's already on the mend." I explained. "I made sure that wouldn't happen again."
"You killed him, didn't you?" Mitzi said, shaking her head.
"Yes." I confirmed, lowering my head, and readying myself for a lecture. "But in his defense, honor demanded nothing less Miss M!" Rocky interjected.
"Honor gets people killed in this business, hon. I thought the plan was to keep a low profile."
"And we have… mostly. Besides the occasional run-in with a rival gang we've kept to the shadows and did our jobs. It's just… well, you can't possibly expect me to not respond to such a threat." I knew it was a losing argument. Keeping a low profile would be more difficult after this. Killing someone from a distance or doing so discreetly? No problems there, people blame it on "the ghost" and are stuck looking for a needle in a haystack made of needles. But the more I thought about my actions, the less confident I felt that it was a good idea. Still, I did do one thing right, no one there knew who I was or why I wanted the guy dead.
"Who did you kill, anyway?" Wick asked.
"Oh, just some Italian guy named Elio Giannola."
"Giannola? Giannola!" Wick finished off his fifth drink of the evening. "Do you know who he'd be related to?"
"No, but by your reaction I'm guessing someone dangerous…"
"That would be an understatement. Vito Giannola is the boss of The Green Ones."
Rocky and I looked at each other and laughed. "Oh come on, Wick. First, how would you of all people know that? And second, "Giannola" has got to be a common name. It's like Norwegians being named Olaf."
"Well, I happen to know because I've had to rub shoulders with a local politician by the name of Ed Hogan. He helped me get some land permits through the county government to expand the old quarry. But before that he was the leader of an Irish gang in town. If anyone knows how to help you, it will be him."
"Help me? Wick, I think we'll be fine. Even if I did kill someone of importance, no one knows it was me or who I am. The streets here don't know my name."
"You say that, dear. But I agree with Wick. We should see this Mr. Hogan to get a full understanding of the situation."
"Check the paper tomorrow." Wick demanded. "Whoever you killed is certain to have an article in the A-section."
"Alright, alright, jeez. If it'll make you two feel better, I will come along and meet with this Hogan guy. But the deed is done, and I was out long before anyone could figure out who I was. This guy must have had plenty of enemies if he was in the mafia. Maybe the Green Ones will blame it on a rival gang?"
"Speaking of rivals, hon, Asa called earlier. He needs to see you tomorrow. He's going to meet you in the café across the street from the Maribel at noon."
"I suppose he's got something else to clean up."
"You're still covering all our tracks from June?" Mitzi asked.
"Well, when you kill that many people at once it's kind of hard to cover it all up. But Asa is in the same boat as us. If his bosses figure out all the details of what happened, they'll come for him before they even bother taking out Lackadaisy."
"Be careful around Asa, dear. He's not nearly as nice as he lets on."
"I am. When I can find a better alternative I'll take it, but for now this was the best deal I could strike. I doubt he'd double-cross us so long as my fate is tied to his."
Hope For Better Days
Ivy knocked on the bedroom door before opening it a crack. "Riley, are you still up?"
The young cat was at her desk furiously doing her work while in a nightgown. Riley looked behind her as Ivy walked in. "I've still got homework to do."
"Yes, but it's also 10 o'clock. Everyone needs rest, but especially smart young ladies."
"How am I supposed to get good grades if I don't finish my work?"
"I'm sure your teacher will understand seeing as its your first day. You don't want to be tired tomorrow, do you?"
"No…" Riley admitted. "Fine, its mostly done anyway. When is Ethan coming home?"
"He and Rocky had some business to take care of, they won't be back until late tonight. And with Freckle out of commission I volunteered to hold the fort until they get back."
Riley climbed into bed and settled in while Ivy pulled the covers over her before moving back toward the door. "Ivy?"
"Yes, Riley?"
"Freckle will be okay, right?"
Ivy sighed. "He will be just fine, we got him patched up and there's no permanent damage… I think. Get some sleep, Riley. Ethan will take you to school in the morning."
Turning out the lights and closing the door, Ivy leaned back against the wall, tired from the day they had. The whole time she had been putting on a façade but only now was she able to let it slip. Walking down the hallway, she veered off into the other upstairs bedroom. Inside was Freckle, staring out into the backyard. Ivy sat on the bed next to him and placed an arm around his shoulder, giving Freckle a peck on the cheek.
"You were very brave today, Calvin. I shouldn't have suggested going into the Italian district. Guess now I know why Dad never went there."
Freckle didn't reply. Instead, he continued to look out the window.
"Come on, Calvin, talk to me. You're being quieter than usual."
"I-I don't think I can do this anymore."
"What? The bootlegging?"
"And the killing, and the almost-being-killed-nightly, and the going crazy, and—"
"Calvin, it's okay. Every job has its bad moments."
"Yeah, but the bad moments in this job are more dangerous. That's not it though. What scared me today was the thought of losing you."
"Aw, Calvin!"
"I'm serious, Ivy! We're fighting someone constantly just to keep the speakeasy afloat, and if things keep going the way they are one of us is going to get killed. You, Rocky, Ethan, or me."
"I doubt Ethan would let anything happen to us, Freckle."
"He can't protect us from every bullet! Someone will get lucky eventually."
"Calv—"
"Read the papers, Ivy. St. Louis is turning into a battlefield and we're in the middle of it."
Ivy hugged him tightly. "Okay, Calvin, I hear you. But what happened today had nothing to do with bootlegging. It was some thug from the street being a bully. That could happen to anyone at any time."
Ivy then leaned in and kissed him. She could feel Calvin relax as he leaned against her shoulder. He trusted her and she trusted him. Rubbing his ears and stroking his back, the two sat and watched as the moon rose over the woodlands behind the house. At least out here it was quiet, a haven where no one would bother them. She knew by the rhythm of his breathing when Calvin fell asleep. Letting him settle into bed, she got up to grab herself a blanket and sneak downstairs to sleep on the couch, but as she stood Freckle's hand caught hers.
"No… stay. I need you. Please…"
Slipping off her shoes and shirt, Ivy sat back down and found her way under one of the covers as Freckle made room. They had been dating all summer, and only now did Freckle offer to share his bed with her. As she crawled in, one arm held her close as Freckle made sure she was completely covered. His tail even swept itself over both of them. In an instant the fatigue and worries of the day melted away. With Ivy cuddled up next to him, Freckle used the last of his thoughts to speak a silent prayer. "Lord, protect us and guide us to better days. Amen."
Hours later a pair of headlights heralded the arrival of Rocky and Ethan. After a long night it would be hard to get up in the morning. Parking the car in the barn, Ethan closed the heavy door while Rocky turned on the yard light. Walking up the steps and onto the half-finished porch, Ethan opened the door and let both of them in.
Creeping up the stairs, Rocky opened the bedroom door while taking care not to make a noise lest he wake his cousin. To his surprise there were two figures in Freckle's bed. The boy and Miss Pepper. Both were clearly too exhausted to have done anything other than sleep, but regardless Rocky had enough sense not to intrude. Taking only a moment to be happy for his little cousin, he took a pillow and blanket off his bed then closed the door behind him without making a sound.
Down in the living room, Rocky collapsed into the used couch they moved in weeks before. While not as comfortable as a bed, it still beat sleeping in the backseat of the sedan. Rocky's tail shifted back and forth in time with the clock on the wall. Besides the quiet ticking there were no other sounds, not even a creak or groan from the wood. It had been a long day for Rocky too even if he hadn't had the adventures of the others. That feeling crept back to him from earlier that morning and he became painfully aware that despite living in a house full of friends and family, he still felt alone.
But then Ethan's words pierced through the depression. A small ray of hope for the future shone through. Maybe he should ask the universe?
"Please." He pleaded. "If there is someone out there, lead me to them."
