Harlem Redux by Persia Walker Read Free Book Online

hands in a peaceful gesture. “Hey, I don’t want her.”
    Jolene leaned across the counter. “You insulting my Stella? What the hell you say?”
    “I don’t want her ‘cause she’s yours. Should I want her just to give you a reason to ‘slice’ me up?” David had to smile. If nothing else, Jolene was good for a laugh. “Jolene, you crazy. You know that?”
    Jolene gave him an evil look. Then a little smile crept over his hideous face. “Well, you crazy, too, nigger. Playing with me like that.”
    Stella did a couple more numbers, then the band took over. She sauntered over to the bar and got a drink. Her eyes fell on David and lit up. “Well, lookey, lookey what we got here.”
    “Nice to meet you, too.”
    Her forehead dimpled with a frown. “You know, you look mighty familiar, baby.”
    “Ain’t that my line?”
    “Seriously. I seen your face before.”
    “He got a sister,” Jolene said. He was looking evil again. “You know her. Gem—”
    “You Gem’s brother?”
    David nodded.
    “Well, if that ain’t a monkey’s uncle. She used to come in here. Liked to sing a song or two.”
    “Yeah ... But that was years ago.”
    “Not that long. She was in here last year. Looking mighty fine, too. She’s back in Paris, I hear.”
    “Paris?”
    Stella smiled. “You ain’t heard nothing from her, huh? I dig that. Well, I don’t know if you’re interested, but I was talking to Shug the other day—”
    “Shug?”
    “Shug Ryan. He blows a pretty mean sax. Shug and Gem used to hang out in Montmartre. He just come back from over there. He mighta seen her.”
    David wasn’t sure he wanted to talk to Shug, but he asked anyway: “Where can I find him?”
    “Hell if I know.” She shrugged, turned to Jolene, and put her glass down on the bar. “Set me up, babe.” Then she glanced at David’s empty glass and his sad eyes and smiled. To Jolene, she said: “Gimme the bottle. My friend here and I, we gonna make a night of it.”
    David saw the look on Jolene’s face and Stella saw it, too. David didn’t want a fight, but he was too tired and wrung out to care. Stella laughed and flung an arm around Jolene’s meaty shoulder, then planted a kiss on his scarred cheek.
    “Don’t make no trouble,” she whispered, “or I’m gonna be gone with the morning light.”
    Jolene did as he was told.
     
    It was past four in the morning when David left Jolene’s, melancholy and drunk. As the lively sounds of Jolene’s faded behind him, images of Lilian’s room returned. And that curious sensation it had given him of a museum exhibit—staged, detached, sanitized—gripped him once more. He shivered. How he dreaded going back to that house.
    A lot’s done happened since you been gone.
    Stella had invited him to enjoy her hospitality, but while expressing his appreciation, he’d refused. Now, he wondered if that had been wise.
    My life, he thought, is just a series of missed opportunities.
    He only hoped that he’d walked enough, drank enough, smoked enough reefer to exhaust himself. He wanted to sleep like a rock. No, like a dead man, he thought, and chuckled at his morbid humor. He made his way back to Strivers’ Row. After letting himself in, he managed to hang up his coat and was about to climb the stairs to his room when his gaze fell on the door, that door, the one next to the library. He stared at it, like a moth drawn to a flame. One moment, he was standing by the newel post; the next, he was facing the door. His hands hung at his side, balled into fists. Beads of perspiration sprung up on his forehead. His right hand went out. He touched the doorknob ... then hesitated. What would he find behind this door? Indeed, after all these years, what in the world was he looking for? Reconciliation? Peace?
    He gripped the knob and twisted it.
    It wouldn’t budge.
    He blinked, confused. Then, taking a deep breath, he gripped it harder, jiggled it and tried to turn it again.
    It held fast.
    He fell back,