after lighting one of his own, didn’t budge. Finally, shyly, Roddy reached into his pocket, found matches, and lit her cigarette. Bella blew smoke across the table, her mouth making a faint, whistling trill; and for a second all of us watched, enthralled, as she exhaled the thin line of gray smoke.
The front door clanged as Ellie joined us, dressed now in street clothes, her neck swathed in a bright blue wool scarf. She seemed perplexed at the unexpected visitors at the table, looking from me to Jed, worry on her face. “Is everything okay?”
“I heard you were brilliant.” Bella, so snide.
Ellie ignored her, turning to Roddy. “They asked me to return in two weeks. I’m to do a longer set. Maybe midnight on a weekend. They’re…” Her voice was bubbly and excited but she stopped. “I’m sorry.” She looked at me, eyes bright. “I’m so up in the air.”
I sipped the murky coffee an old waiter placed before me, which was a mistake. Tasteless, foul. Some oily concoction best used to lubricate one’s touring car. “I only caught the last of your numbers, Ellie, but I must say, I liked it a lot. You have a lovely voice.”
She shook her head up and down and whispered a quiet thank you. When she spoke, she was looking at Roddy. “You’ll have to help me on a new number. That song from Shuffle Along really worked for me. The way you helped me last week…”
A curious word to stress, I thought.
Bella interrupted, a smile on her face. “Everyone wants Roddy to help with their stumbling careers.” Sweetly, with no sweetness in her voice. “Roddy, you do remember you were going to read my play with me…”
Roddy looked from one to the other, but spoke to me. “Bella’s finished a play. A full-length play. The part I read was good…” He was nodding his head a little too much.
A gentle diplomat, I thought, but his charming manner only seemed to irk the two women, who stared icily at him.
Bella waved her hand in the air, dismissing the comment.
Silence around the table. “You’re all old friends?” I asked.
Bella expelled smoke. “Lawson, when he has time for me, is my boyfriend.” Defiantly, Bella reached over and covered Roddy’s wrist with her hand, a sudden move that made him jump. He pulled his hand away, embarrassed. Bella laughed a throaty, cigarette laugh, though no one else did.
Ellie was frowning. “Miss Ferber, all the men love Bella.”
The line hung in the air, words laced with resignation.
“But end up with you,” Bella shot back.
“I think we…” Roddy blathered, the failed diplomat.
“You all live in Harlem?”
Ellie said, “I live a bunch of blocks up from here with my grandfather over on Convent Avenue. Two subway stops. Bella lives with a brother and his wife over on St. Nicholas.”
Roddy added, “And Lawson and I live a few blocks away from here. The super of the building is Harriet’s father.”
“And what about Harriet?” I asked. “She struck me as a strong-willed young woman.”
Roddy showed that boyish grin. “She is that.”
Bella smirked. “Roddy insisted she be a part of the group. No one asked for my vote. So much for democracy. She hardly fits in, trust me.”
“Come on, Bella,” Roddy said. “She’s all right.”
Ellie spoke up. “She wants to write political poetry, and she latched onto Waters at some reading, and then onto us. And she was already friendly with Freddy.”
I went on. “Yes, what about Freddy? Another fascinating young man.” Bella scoffed at that. “Where does he live?”
Roddy took his time answering. “No one knows. You know, we joke about it. All of us. Freddy wanders, checks in with his sister who lives next door to Ellie, sometimes sleeps on her floor. Even Harriet claims she doesn’t know. He’s the…well, rebel.”
“Ah, young writers.” I was smiling.
“All would-be writers,” Roddy concluded. “See what Langston Hughes and Zora Neale Hurston did to us?”
“Ellie,” I began, “when I
Learning to Kill: Stories