Luke’s eyes danced as he led her inside toward a twittering old woman who hovered nervously at the desk. She wore a cup of braided hair over each ear, and her false teeth looked as though they would glow in the dark.
“Good evening, Ernestine.” And the beauty of it was that she looked like an Ernestine.
“Evening, Mr. Johns.” Her eyes took in Kezia with approval. She was the sort of guest they liked. Well-dressed, well-heeled, and well-polished. After all, this was the Ritz!
He led her into a decaying elevator run by a tiny old man who hummed “Dixie” to himself as they rose, swaying, to the second floor.
“Usually, I walk. But I thought I’d give you the full show.”
A sign in the elevator announced breakfast at seven, lunch at eleven, and dinner at five. Kezia giggled, holding tight to his hand.
“Thank you, Joe.” Luke gently patted his back and picked up the bags.
“Carry the bags for you, sir?”
“No, thanks.” But he quietly slipped a bill into the man’s hand, and led Kezia down the hall. It was carpeted in dark red, and the walls were lined with elaborate sconces. “To your left, babe.” She followed his nod to the end of the hall. “Wait till you see the view.” He fitted his key in the lock, turned it twice, set down the bags, and then pulled her close. “I’m so glad you came out. I was afraid you’d be busy or something.”
“Not for you, Luke. After all this time, you must be joking! Well, are we going to stand here all night?”
“Nope. We sure as hell aren’t.” He picked her up easily, and carried her over the threshold into a room that made her gasp and then laugh. She had never seen so much blue velvet and satin all in one place.
“Luke, it’s a riot. And I love it.” He set her down with a smile, and she looked at the bed with wide eyes. It was a huge four-poster with blue velvet hangings and a blue satin spread. There were blue velvet chairs and a blue satin chaise longue, an old-fashioned dressing table, a fireplace, and a flowered blue rug that had seen better days. And then she noticed the view.
It was a dark expanse of bay, lit on the other side by the hills of Sausalito, the lights on the Golden Gate twinkling as traffic sped by.
“Luke, what a fabulous place!” Her face glowed.
“The Ritz. At your feet.”
“Darling, I love you.” She walked into his arms and kicked off her shoes.
“Lady, you couldn’t love me half as much as I love you. Not even a quarter.”
“Oh shut up.”
His mouth came down gently on hers and he lifted her onto the blue satin bed.
“Hungry?”
“I don’t know. I’m so happy I can’t think.” She rolled sleepily onto her side, and kissed him on the side of his neck.
“How about some pasta?”
“Mmmm … sure….” But she made no move to get up. It was one in the morning, her time, and she was content where she lay.
“Come on, Mama, get up.”
“Oh God, not a shower!” He laughed and slapped her on the behind as he pulled back the sheets.
“If you don’t get up in two minutes, I’ll bring the shower to you.”
“You wouldn’t dare.” She lay with her eyes stubbornly closed and a sleepy smile on her face.
“Oh wouldn’t I?” He was looking down at her, love and tenderness rich in his eyes.
“Christ, you would. You’re such a meanie. Can’t I take a bath instead of a shower?”
“Take whatever you want, but get up off your ass.” She opened her eyes and looked up at him, without moving an inch.
“In that case, I’ll take you.”
“After we eat. I didn’t have time for lunch today and I’m starving. I wanted to wrap everything up before you got out.”
“And did you?” She sat up on one elbow and reached for a cigarette. This was the opening she had been waiting for, and suddenly there was tension in her voice, mirrored in his eyes.
“Yeah, We wrapped everything up.” The faces of the dead men flashed through his head.
“Lucas …” She had never directly asked him, and he had not yet volunteered.
“Yeah?” Everything about him seemed suddenly guarded. But they both knew.
“Should I mind my own business?” He shrugged and then slowly shook his head. “No. I know where you’re going, Mama. And I guess it’s your business to ask. You want to know what I’ve been up to out here?” She nodded. “But you already know, don’t you?” He looked almost old and very tired as he spoke. The holiday atmosphere had suddenly faded.
“I think so. I think I knew without knowing, but then this afternoon …” Her voice trailed off. This afternoon? Only then? It seemed years ago. “This afternoon I saw the paper, and the headline … the San Quentin work strike, that was your doing, wasn’t it, Luke?” He nodded very slowly. “What will they do to you for that, Lucas?”
“Who? The pigs?”
“Among others.”
“Nothing. Yet. They can’t pin anything on me, Mama. I’m a pro. But that’s part of the problem, too. I’m too much of a pro. They can never pin anything on me, and one day they’re going to screw me royally. Out of vengeance.” It was a first warning.
“Can they do that?” She looked shocked, but not really as though she understood.
“They can if they want to. Depends how badly they want to. Right now, I figure they’re pretty pissed.”
“And you’re not scared, Lucas?”
“What would that change?” He smiled a cynical little smile, and shook his head. “No, pretty lady, I’m not scared.”
“Are you in danger, Lucas? I mean real danger?”
“You mean my parole, or other kinds of danger?”
“Either.”
He knew that she had to know, so he answered her. More or less. “I’m not in real danger, babe. There are some very angry people involved, but the ones who’re the most pissed are the least sure I had anything to do with it. That’s the way I run those things. The parole pricks won’t even try to do anything to me for a while, and by then they’ll have cooled off. And any of the hotheads involved in the strike who don’t dig my views are too pissy-eye scared of me to even flip me the bird. So, no, I’m not really in danger.”
“But you could be, couldn’t you?” It hurt to think of it, to realize it … to admit it. She had known that about him from the first. But now she was in love with him. It was different. She didn’t want him to be some hotshot troublemaker. She wanted him to lead a peaceful life.
“What are you thinking of? You looked a thousand miles away for a minute there. You didn’t even hear me answer your question.”
“What was your answer?”
“That I could be in danger crossing the street, so why get paranoid now? You could be in danger. You could get kidnapped for a fat ransom. So? So why go crazy about could I be in danger, or could I not be in danger. I’m sitting here, I’m fine, I love you. That’s all you need to know. Now what were you thinking?”
“That I wish you were a stockbroker or an insurance agent.” She grinned and he let out a burst of laughter.
“Oh Mama, have you got the wrong number!”
“All right, so I’m crazy.” She shrugged in momentary embarrassment and then looked at him seriously again. “Luke, why do you still get involved in the strikes? Why can’t you let it go? You’re not in prison anymore. And it could cost you so much.”
“Okay. I’ll tell you why. Because some of those guys make three cents an hour for the work they do in there. Backbreaking work, in conditions you wouldn’t let your dog live in. And they have families, wives and children just like the rest of the world. Those families are on welfare, but they wouldn’t have to be if the poor bastards inside could earn a decent wage. Not even a high wage, just a decent one. There’s no reason why they shouldn’t be able to put some money aside. They need it as much as everyone else. And they work for their bread. They work damn hard. So, we set up work strikes. We design them so that the system we use can be implemented by inmates at any prison. Like this one. Folsom is going to be pulling almost the same thing, with some minor alterations in style. Probably next week.” He saw the look on her face and then shook his head. “No. They won’t need me for that one, Kezia. I did my bit here.”