Gone Fishin’
By
Walter Mosley
An Easy Rawlins Novel
Copyright © 1997
Chapter One
Mouse had changed
Before he announced his engagement to EttaMae he was a happy man, full of himself. It’s true that he was especially pleased when misfortune happened to someone else, but at least he kept us smiling. Life was hard back then and a good laugh was worth a month of Sundays.
But just when he had a reason to be glad, Mouse turned sour and moody. He let his appearance go to seed (he was usually a natty dresser) and nobody wanted to be around him because when a small, rodent-faced man like Mouse got ugly he was no company even for the harshest man.
He stopped going to parties altogether. If you happened to run into him on some corner, or back alley, and asked how he was doing, he’d say, ‘What the hell you think? Here I am gonna get married in two months an’ ‘tween me an’ EttaMae we ain’t got enough money for dip an’ crackers.’
Mouse didn’t go out looking for work. All he did was get mad whenever he had to let go of a few coins.
So it was no surprise that his crowd started to shun him.
I mean, even if you wanted to see Mouse it was hard work because he changed apartments almost every month - one step ahead of the landlord, as we used to say.
I didn’t want to see him. Mostly because I was jealous. You see, EttaMae was the kind of woman you had on your mind when you woke up in the morning. She was big and friendly, and always knew the right thing to say. But she never lied; Etta spoke her mind, and when she laughed it came from her heart. Everybody loved EttaMae, and she loved the only man I ever knew who didn’t have a heart at all.
So between me being jealous and Mouse being so taciturn I was surprised late one Tuesday night when a racket broke out on my apartment door. It sounded more like a fight than a knock. I dragged myself out of a deep sleep trying to think of who might be after me. I knew that it couldn’t be the police, they just broke the door down in that neighbourhood, and I hadn’t seen any seriously married women in more than six months.
‘Hold on!’ I yelled, thinking about the back window. I was reaching for the butcher’s knife on the nightstand when he called, ‘Easy! Easy! Open this do’, man, I gotta talk!’
‘Mouse?’
‘Yeah, man! Lemme in!’
I snatched the door open with a curse on my lips but when I saw him I knew he’d changed again. He had on a plaid zoot suit with Broadway suspenders and spats on his black bluchers. He wore a silk hat and when he smiled you could see the new gold rim and blue jewel on his front tooth. For someone who never worked, Mouse knew how to keep himself in style.
‘Man, what you doin’ here this time’ a night? I gotta work in the mo’nin’!’
He pushed by me saying, ‘that’s all right, Easy, I’ma buy some’a yo’ time this week.’ A tan rucksack hung from his shoulder. I could hear the chink of bottles as it swung against his side.
We gotta talk, man,’ he said.
He led the way back into my apartment. All it was was a big room with a Murphy bed. He sat down on the good chair and I sat on the bed, facing him.
‘Mouse, what do you...’
He held up his hand, half smiling like one of those saints in the illustrated Bibles.
‘Easy, I have got it.’
He pulled Johnnie Walker from the sack.
‘I have got it,’ he said. ‘Now do you got some glasses? ‘Cause this here’s Black Label and it won’t do to swig it from the neck.’
‘Man, what do you want?’
‘I want some glasses, Easy, so we can celebrate my good fortune. You the first one gonna know.’
‘Know what? All I know is I gotta get me some sleep.’
‘Then get me sumpin’ t’drink wit’ and I will deliver you the potion of dreams.’
There was no use in trying to argue when Mouse was in a preaching mood. There were glasses in the closet at the back of the room. I rinsed them in a tub I kept back there.
‘Jelly glasses?’ Mouse turned up his nose while he poured.
‘Just... just... what do you want?’
He laid back in my stuffed chair and put his feet on my sheets. He flashed his new gold tooth at me and drank whiskey like it was water.
‘You know I’m from down Pariah, Easy. Yes, sir! Just a country boy.’ He poured another glassful. ‘Down home, that’s me.’
I poured three fingers and waited. Mouse needed room to tell his story. He was afraid that the idea would get confused unless you had all the facts. If he was to tell you about a nail in a horse’s foot he’d start off explaining coal and iron and how they make steel.
‘... an’ you know us country boys is slow to get a idee, but once we got the picture we ain’t never gonna let go... You got a cigarette?’
‘Got some papers an’ shag.’
‘Uh-uh, no thanks. You know I cain’t stand them leaves in my mouf.’ He twisted his lips and slugged back his second glass of scotch. ‘I guess you know I been kinda worried with the weddin’ an’ how me an’ Etta ain’t wit’ much dough.’
‘Yeah, I know.’
‘Well, I got it all figgered out now.’ Mouse smiled so satisfied that I felt good.
But I said, ‘Com’on, man, it’s midnight...’
‘My stepdaddy.’
‘What?’
He looked at me real close then, like a dog does when a new smell comes by. Like he was wondering if I was food or foe or some love interest.
He said, ‘You like Etta, don’t ya, Easy?’
‘Yeah, sure I like her.’ I didn’t like that question, though. ‘Etta been hangin’ out wit’ us fo’ years.’
‘Yeah, that’s true,’ Mouse said, staring down into his jelly glass. Then he looked up at me. ‘But you like’er more’n just some friend. I mean she’s a good-lookin’ woman, right?’
‘She look fine. Now what’s this about yo’ stepdaddy?’
But he wouldn’t let it go.
‘She look good, but that’s not what make her so fine. Etta ain’t no bow-down woman, she stand up fo’ what she want. An’ no one better be foolin’ wit’ her ‘less she like ya, ‘cause Etta got a strong arm.’
I laughed and said yeah but I was watching Mouse then. For all my size that small man scared me.
Mouse was laughing too, but his eyes were in mine.
‘That’s the truth,’ he said. ‘An’ they ain’t a real man who don’t wonder what a powerful woman like that can do. ‘Cause you know the first time I seen Etta sit down to a plate’ a food I knew she was a hungry woman.’ He ran the length of his hand down his crotch. ‘Yeah, that Etta will eat you up!’
I poured out a little scotch and wondered if that was going to be my last drink.
He held my eye while he poured whiskey, while he drank. I could hear the house settling, it was so quiet.
‘Why’ont you roll me one, Ease? You got the touch.’
The pouch was on the end table, next to the knife. I reached for it slowly so he could see what I was doing.
I had to suck my tongue to get enough spit to wet the paper.
‘Yeah. You know Etta wring me out and in the mo’nin’ she tell me that if I wanna keep that good stuff fo’me I better do right.’ He laughed. ‘And she knew I had plenty’a women t’buy my clothes. An’ I knew she weren’t no virgin neither... But I can understand a man, Easy.’ Mouse leaned back quickly and put his hand in his pocket.
I flinched and the tobacco and paper fell to the floor.
‘... a man,’ he continued as he came out with a red handkerchief to wipe his nose, ‘who run after a woman-like that wit’ his nose open an’ his tongue hangin’ down.’ I had been down in Galveston once when EttaMae lived there. I spent the night with her even though I knew she was Mouse’s girl. He must’ve found out, but he couldn’t know how bad I felt about it.