Donald stayed on his feet, a few feet back, as I slid onto the vacant bench across from her. I noticed a deck of cards, a shot glass and a bottle of whiskey in the center of the table between us. Next to her was a smoldering cigar stub teetering on the lip of an ashtray.
“This ain’t a good place to come poking around uninvited.” She scooped up the bottle and poured herself a shot. “Few months ago a couple college boys came in here acting the fool.” The shot glass vanished in her fleshy paw as she drank it down then slapped it back on the table. “They had a bad time.”
“Well I appreciate you calling off your dogs,” I said.
She looked beyond me to Donald, and then to Rick. “It’s OK, Muscles. They won’t do nothing.”
Rick nodded. “That’d be better for them.”
“Do you know Claudia?” I asked.
The fat woman’s eyes returned to me. “You must want to talk to her something awful to go through all this.”
“I take it you already heard my explanation out there. Do you know her or not?”
“Of course. Mama Toots knows everybody, darlin’.”
“Where can I find her?”
She touched the deck of cards, stroked it slowly with chubby fingers. “She lived down off Milner Avenue, an old industrial road not far from the airport, you know the one? Only a couple old houses down in there. I don’t know the exact address, it was a little shack all off by itself. Little shit-hole about a mile in, on the left—can’t miss it.”
“She still live there?”
“Ain’t heard nothing about her moving. Haven’t seen her in a long while, though.”
“What’s her last name?”
“Brewster or Brewer, something like that. Don’t use last names much around here.”
“How do you know her?”
“From here, where else?” She shuffled the cards. “She used to hook in here on Fridays and Saturdays. A few girls do. It’s a break from the street, safer, and it’s a regular clientele, you know? They work the customers then kick back a percentage to me. That keeps Mama happy, and when Mama Toots is happy, everybody’s happy.”
“When did she stop working here?” I asked.
“About a year ago.”
“Why?”
“I don’t know exactly. She stopped coming around. Girls in that biz come and go.”
I cocked my head toward the bar area. “The guy with the tattoos out there said he knew her too. You think he’d know—”
“They used to hang around a lot of the same people.”
“Used to.”
“That’s what I said, darlin’.”
“Claudia… is she into that shit too?”
“What shit would that be?”
“From his tattoos I think it’s safe to assume he’s into some dark shit.”
“Aren’t we all?” Another brown grin. “Some wear it on the outside is all. He likes to scare people, thinks it’s fun, but he’s just a punk and a drug addict. Nothing more.”
“Why did you help us?”
“Didn’t. Helped me. Blood on the floor ain’t nothing new here, but I like to avoid all that stuff if we can. Especially with outsiders.”
Donald stepped forward. “Thank you for the information, madam. Alan, let’s go.”
“I know you got troubles,” she said to me, ignoring Donald and holding up the deck of cards instead. “You wanna know what the future holds?”
“Not particularly.” It was so hot in the backroom I had broken into a heavy sweat. I wiped some perspiration from above my eyes. “I’m more concerned with the past.”
“Too late do anything about the past.”
“Can’t know the future without knowing the past, though.”
“That’s true.” Mama grabbed the cigar stub from the ashtray and stuffed the already wet and chewed end into the corner of her mouth. “But I got a gift, and my gift helps me see the future, helps me see spirits. Truth is, the spirits brought you here so I could read you. I know that ‘cause don’t nothing happen by accident. You’re here ‘cause they brought you to me.”
“I don’t believe in psychics.”
“You think magic gives a shit if you believe in it or not?” She shuffled the cards again. “Don’t matter. Magic’s like a tree. A tree don’t give a shit if you believe in it. It just is what it is, you see? Tree still gonna be a tree, it’s still gonna grow, still gonna be there day in and day out whether you believe in trees or not. Belief only matters if you’re fighting it.”
“I can see a tree,” I said. “I can touch a tree.”
“Same thing with magic. Just got to know how.”
I swallowed hard. “Ever give Claudia a reading?”
Mama chewed the cigar for a while before answering. “Once.”
“What’d the cards say?”
“Ask her. What happens between me and a believer is private.”
“What are you, a priest?”
“In a way.” Mama shuffled the cards yet again, this time without breaking eye contact. “Why, you want me to hear your confession?” When I didn’t answer she caught Rick’s attention in the doorway. “How about you, Muscles?”
“I’ll pass.”
“You afraid?”
“I’m not afraid of anything,” Rick said.
Mama threw me a conspiratorial wink. “That means he’s afraid of everything.”
Rick said nothing, and I was grateful he let the comment go. Donald shuffled about just feet from the booth. “Will you light somewhere?”
“We need to leave,” he said. “It’s Saturday night, this place will be packed in—”
“Relax,” Mama Toots told him before returning her attention to me. “Been having dreams for a while now. Strange dreams. The spirits told me strangers were coming, strangers that needed my help. Now them dreams make sense.”
I started to stand. “Thank you for your help, but I told you, I don’t believe in—”
“Maybe you don’t do what the spirit world say.” Mama slammed the deck on the table with such force it stopped me. “But I do, even when I don’t want to—like now. Shuffle the cards.”
I eyed the deck like a child considering candy from a stranger then picked up the cards. They were warm and slightly damp, but otherwise a normal deck. I shuffled them twice then handed them back to her.
Donald lit a cigarette and puffed away apprehensively.
Mama glanced at him, barked out another laugh, adjusted her considerable girth and slowly placed six cards face-up on the table. She arranged them into a large semicircle then placed a seventh in the center. As she focused on the display something changed in her expression, and she immediately gathered the cards, returned them to the deck and offered it to me a second time. “Do it again.”
“What was wrong with those?”
“They’re just a prop; a tool. Do like I said.”
I complied then watched as she laid the cards out a second time in identical fashion. She studied them for what seemed a long time without speaking then plucked the cigar from her mouth with a moist popping sound. “It ain’t good.”
“Is it ever?”
Her suddenly humorless face lacked the arrogance it had before. “It ain’t good.”
“Why, what do they say?”
“You don’t believe anyway.”
“Thought it didn’t matter.”
“I’m gonna give you some advice, so listen up.” Mama folded her arms across her mountainous breasts. “Long time ago, I learned not to stick my nose in where it don’t belong, and to never ask questions you shouldn’t know the answers to. So I don’t know what three nice, neat small-town gentlemen like you are doing in here, or what you want with that tramp girl—don’t know and don’t care—but you need to understand the world ain’t always what you think it is.” She rolled the cigar back between her lips and suckled it. “This is a great city, New Bedford, lots of history here, a long past. Compared to where my people come from in Italy—the old country—this city ain’t nothing but a baby. But for America, it’s old. It’s an old city, lots of spirits here, lots of old ghosts. Take the city away and it’s ancient, this land. Under all the light and reality is what come before, you see? All that come before, just… there. Waiting, doing, watching, listening. The city’s like that, too. It got a dark side, secrets just like anything else. Just like in life, certain neighborhoods you should stay out of. Spirit world got those same places. Dark places. Not everybody got the gift like me, so not everybody sees what I see, and it’s better that way. But you should never fuck with the spirit world. Know why?” She smiled coyly. “‘Cause it’ll fuck back.”