I’m proud of, but when you’re hungry you do what you gotta do to get by.”
“That’s terrible,” Eliza said. “No child should have to live like that.”
“Yes, I know.”
The two women talked for a long while, Bess telling of the life she’d known as a child and Eliza telling how things had fallen apart between her and Martin. As they sat there, an understanding emerged.
“I stole and done plenty of other bad things in my life, but I ain’t never been a homewrecker,” Bess said. “Your troubles with Martin ain’t of my doing.”
“I don’t fault you. He’s a man who—”
“Martin and me, we been together less than four months. The truth is, he don’t mean nothing to me and I don’t mean nothing to him.”
“I’m glad of that. Glad for you and for me.” Eliza took a deep breath and looked around the painfully familiar room then back to Bess. “Martin’s a lot of things, some good, maybe some bad, but the one thing I can’t deny is that he’s the father of our children, and having a daddy part of the time is better than having none at all.”
“I sure as hell can’t argue with that.”
With those thoughts still hanging in the air, they sat in silence for a few moments.
“So, what are you gonna do now?” Bess asked.
“I don’t have a choice. I’ve got to stay and ask Martin for money. Right now, I don’t even have enough for train fare home.”
“Maybe there’s another way,” Bess said. She gave a mischievous smile as she explained about a loose floorboard in the closet where Martin kept a roll of bills. “He thinks I don’t know, but I seen him getting money out for his poker game. If a man’s got money enough for poker, then he damn well ought to be feeding his kids.”
“I can’t take that money without asking. He’d be furious.” A hint of hesitation dangled at the end of Eliza’s words.
“How’s he gonna know? I ain’t gonna tell him, and he ain’t gonna know you been here.”
Another flicker of hesitation drifted by before Eliza spoke. “Then he’ll blame you.”
“Martin thinks I don’t know about the money, so I ain’t worried.”
“He’s no dummy. He’ll figure it out, and when he does there’s no telling what he’ll do.”
“I ain’t scared a’ no man.” Bess lifted the hem of her skirt, showed a hunting knife stuck in the side of her boot, and grinned. “Pauline got beat up pretty bad by a man she trusted, and I ain’t never forgot it.”
A look of apprehension tugged at Eliza’s face. “That knife won’t be enough to protect you if Martin gets really mad. I’ve seen how he can be. Before you’ve got time to think about it, he’ll have that knife out of your hands and at your throat. Once he discovers that money missing, you won’t want to be around.”
“I been thinking a’ leaving anyway. Pauline’s got a place over by the railroad station. I can stay with her.”
Eliza sat for a moment longer mulling it over; there was something very right and something very wrong about such a plan but try as she may, she couldn’t decide which was which. Then she thought about the children waiting at home and gave a nod. “I’d be truly grateful to have the money.”
Bess flew into the bedroom like an excited squirrel and returned moments later with a handful of folded bills. Stuffing it into Eliza’s palm, she said, “Take this and get out of here before he comes home.”
“I don’t know how I can ever thank you.”
“Don’t waste time trying. Just promise me you’ll never let your kids have to fend for themselves on the streets.”
“I promise,” Eliza said.
——————
GERTRUDE SLOAN WAS SITTING BESIDE the window when Eliza left the building. Catching sight of Eliza, she stood, rapped on the glass, and called out, but Eliza hurried away, apparently not seeing or hearing the call. Gertrude dropped back into her chair with a thump of disappointment.
“Ah, well. Maybe next time.”
If there was one thing Gertrude could not abide, it was seeing the brazen hussies that paraded in and out of Martin’s Hobbs’s apartment. Hopefully having Eliza back would put a stop to it.
1968
The Search Continues
Charleston
ON TUESDAY, TOM BATEMAN WAS standing in front of the historic city hall building before it opened. As soon as the guard unlocked the doors, he crossed the lobby and headed for the records department of the city clerk’s office. Clara Goodman was on duty that morning, and