The Devils Punchbowl

“Ain’t just about everything worth doing illegal? That'’s the way this country works. Pure hypocrisy, from Plymouth Rock on down.”

Sands sniffs and leans forward, subtly signaling that the meeting is over. “Which hotel are you staying at?”

“The Eola.”

“If you’ll call ahead on your next trip, we’ll comp you a suite at our hotel.”

“I appreciate it, but I’'ve got a soft spot for those grand old dames. The downtowns may be dying, but the great hotels soldier on, in the good towns anyway. Course, I don'’t mind putting the boys up in your hotel. We’ll make that part of the deal if it makes things easier.”

“It does simplify issues like transport.”

“It’s a deal, then.”

Walt gets up, not wanting to press, but Sands comes around his desk and says, “Are you interested in any special action during this visit? A test-drive, say?”

“A girl, you mean? Or the blood sport?”

“You seem quite able to manage the ladies on your own. I was thinking of sport.”

“Well, I wouldn'’t be against it. I got three, four more days here. I was planning on getting to know one of those little China girls better. But I'm open to anything. You get something good going, I'm in.”

Sands shakes Walt’s hand and leads him to the door with a smile. “I'm sure we can accommodate you.”

Walt has shaken a lot of hands in his life, and he knows the feel of great strength under restraint. The manager of the

Magnolia Queen

could tear a deck of cards in half.

CHAPTER

43

Kelly and Major McDavitt flew Annie and my mother back from Houston this afternoon, arriving at my house just after seven. My mother insisted on cooking for us. We tried to make Kelly eat, but he privately told me that he wanted to go down to the

Magnolia Queen

and make sure that Sands appeared to be keeping his part of the deal. “I like to know where my enemies are” was how he put it. Kelly expressed visible relief when Dad informed him that Sands’s guard dog had tested negative for rabies, and laughed that he might have to celebrate.

Living in the Texas safe house for a few days had been surprisingly comfortable, my mother claimed. The simple fact of separation had proved to be the ordeal. Though Mom sensed that the crisis that had necessitated their fleeing was not fully resolved, we assured Annie that the bad guys were all taken care of. When she asked why James Ervin and his brother were standing guard on the front porch and in the backyard, I told her that we just needed to play it safe for a couple of days.

“In case the bad guys’ friends are mad, right?” she said.

“Sort of,” I admitted.

My parents left a half hour ago, with James Ervin driving. His brother Elvin stayed behind to await Kelly’s return. Annie took a quick bath, then climbed into bed and called for me to tuck her in.

It’s obvious that being home has given her a great sense of relief, no matter how hard she pretends that living on the run was no big deal.

“The second house was scarier,” she says, looking up at me from the covers as I sit on the edge of the bed.

“Why?”

“The first one was a condo, really. Like a vacation. But then Mr. Kelly called, and Mr. Jim said we had to move. The place he took us to then wasn'’t near as nice. I think it belonged to a lady he knew. The house was okay, but I could tell that Mr. Jim and his friends were worried. At the first house I never saw their guns, but at the second one, they had them out all the time.”

“I'm sorry you had to go through that, baby. But it’s over now.”

“How was Mr. Tim’s funeral? Was it sad?”

“It was. All funerals are sad, but when the dead person is young, it’s harder.”

Confusion clouds Annie’s eyes. “Mr. Tim wasn'’t young.”

I smile. “I guess I'm not either, then. He was the same age I am.”

“Well, you’re not

old,

” she says, obviously a little embarrassed. “But you’re not young either. I guess what I mean is, Mr. Tim seemed a lot older than you.”

“That'’s because he didn't take care of himself when he was young. He had some bad luck, and he”—I hesitate—“he turned to drugs to try to deal with it.”

“You don'’t have to tell me not to do drugs. I already know.”

“I know you do. But life looks different to people as they grow older. Fate always throws something you don'’t expect in your path, and sometimes it’s really tough.”

“Like Mom getting sick.”

The rush of emotion that hits me is almost dizzying. “Yes. Like that.” I look away for a moment and gather myself. “We’re okay, though. Right?”

Annie nods with reasonable certainty.

“I want to ask you a question, squirt. A big one, okay?”

“Okay.”

“What would you think if I wasn'’t the mayor anymore?”

Her eyes widen, but I can’t tell what she’s feeling. “What do you mean? Are you going to get voted out or something?”

“No, no. But for a while now I’'ve been thinking that I haven'’t been able to accomplish the things I wanted to. The things I wanted to change for you and the kids your age. I think only time is going to fix those things, and you and I only have a certain amount of time together. Time to get you the education you deserve, to—”

“What?”

“To

live,

I guess. It’s hard to explain, really.”

Annie works her mouth like someone trying to solve a difficult problem. “I liked it better when you just wrote books. You were home a lot more.”

“I sure was.”

“But to have things back like they were before, you’d have to quit, right?”

“Yes.”

“You always tell me never to quit, no matter what.”

“I know. I’'ve been struggling with that. But this job is about serving the people of the city. And if I'm not giving my full self to that job, then I'm betraying those people.”

Annie looks at the ceiling, considering.

“It’s been done before,” I tell her. “The last mayor resigned, remember? That'’s how I was elected, during a special election. That'’s what would happen this time.”

“But Mr. Doug had cancer. Who would be mayor if you stopped?”

I give her a smile. “I know someone who’s wanted to be mayor for a long time.”

“Not Mr. Johnson!”

Laughing at her sound political instincts, I say, “No, no. Shad’s always wanted it, but I was thinking of Paul Labry.”

Annie’s eyes brighten. “Yeah! Mr. Labry would be a great mayor. He’s so nice, and he likes being out talking to people on the streets. You don'’t like that part of the job so much. That'’s not good.”

“You see a lot, don'’t you?” I rub her head affectionately. “Annie, I think what I'm really feeling is this. Natchez was the right place for me to grow up, but I don'’t think it is for you. The town was different when I was a boy. I ran for mayor because I thought I could bring back some of the good ways life used to be, and at the same

time fix the things that were wrong back then. But that job’s too big for one person. I want us to be somewhere there are more kids like you—as smart as you—and also more who are different from you. I want you to be exposed to everything that’s out there. You deserve all that.”

She knots the blanket in her right hand and speaks in a voice that is subtly changed. “When you say ‘us,’ do you just mean you and me?”