Pretty Boy Floyd

  Charley had to grin. “Well, you’re in jail right this minute, but you can leave,” he said. “I’m gonna be here awhile.”

  “Who’s your judge, have they told you?” Ma asked.

  “Judge Whaley,” Charley told her.

  “Oh, Bull Whaley,” Ma said. “He’s never heard the word ‘mercy,’ and if he had, he don’t subscribe to it. If the law says he can give you ten years, then he’ll give you ten years.”

  Charley felt scared. He couldn’t imagine a month in a place like the jail, much less ten years in a place even worse than the jail. What would Ruby do? Where would she get the money to raise Dempsey? Would they even remember him after ten years? How would he survive that many nights without Ruby to hold him?

  “I know Bull Whaley,” Ma Ash said. “Back when I had a house, one of my girls used to shuck corn with him on a regular basis. If I can locate her, I’ll ask her to put in a word for you. Bully was so sweet on her at one time that he almost left his wife.”

  “That’s the first good news I’ve had,” Charley said. “I hope he’s still sweet on your friend.”

  “I’ll have to find her first,” Ma Ash said. “Got any plans for when you get out?”

  “I ain’t even in yet,” Charley said. “How would I go about plannin’ that far ahead?”

  “Planning ahead’s what you need to do,” she said. “Thinking about how rich you could get if you hook up with me might help you keep from going stir-crazy.”

  Ma Ash was still looking at him with her deep-set black eyes. Despite her hard outside, she had always been pretty soft inside, and it had been a long time since she’d had feelings as strong as the ones she felt for Charley Floyd, even though he was half her age.

  “Hook up with you doin’ what?” Charley asked.

  “Something that pays good, and ain’t too risky,” Ma Ash said.

  Then, to Charley’s astonishment, she reached over and squeezed him, right through his pants. There was a guard standing by the door, but the guard didn’t notice.

  “I’ll see if I can find that whore,” she said, getting up to leave.

  “Thanks for the smokes,” Charley said, still embarrassed by what Ma Ash had just done.

  “Keep that cob steady,” Ma Ash said, winking, as she turned to leave.

  16

  Elbert Devaney was leading Charley back to his cell after his short visit with Ma Ash, when the desk guard yelled down the hall after them.

  “Hold up, Elbert!” the desk guard said. “There’s another dame here to see Floyd.”

  “You’re popular with the ladies,” Elbert said, a little wistfully. Elbert’s right eyeball jiggled rapidly when he was nervous, which he almost always was if he happened to be in the company of a lady. Because of what he called his “nervous eye,” and perhaps for other reasons as well, Elbert had never been especially popular with the ladies.

  When Charley got back to the visiting room, Beulah Baird was waiting, and it didn’t take much brain power to figure out that Beulah was steamed. Her face was redder than her lipstick. Charley was glad to see her, and he couldn’t help being amused that she was so mad.

  “What was that old whore doin’ comin’ out of this jailhouse?” Beulah asked.

  “What old whore, honey?” Charley asked, looking as innocent as he could with his sheared head, and his ill-fitting clothes.

  “Ma Ash—you know who I’m talkin’ about,” Beulah said. “I oughta smack your face.”

  “My cousin from Illinois came across the river to see me,” Charley said. “Cousin Annie. But she ain’t a whore.”

  “I don’t believe you. I nearly run smack into Ma Ash,” Beulah told him. “How come I didn’t see this cousin of yours, if she was just here?”

  “Maybe she’s usin’ the ladies’ room,” Charley suggested. If Beulah barged off to look, he could always argue that Cousin Annie had slipped out while Beulah was in the visiting room.

  “You’re full of baloney, you lyin’ hick,” Beulah said, her eyes blazing. “Rose told me Ma Ash was sweet on you, but like a fool, I laughed it off.”

  She stopped talking, and waited for him to respond. But Charley didn’t respond. He just assumed a blank look, and sat down in the same chair he had been sitting in when Ma Ash reached over and squeezed him.

  “Answer me, Charley!” Beulah demanded. “Are you sweet on her, or ain’t you?”

  “Honey, I’m in jail,” Charley said. “I’m sweet enough on you that I just about go crazy every night I’m in here without you.”

  It was true, too—at night, he lay awake, either thinking too much about Ruby, or thinking too much about Beulah. Thinking about Ruby was hopeless, since she’d never be able to scrape up the trainfare to come as far as St. Louis. Beulah at least lived in St. Louis; she might be mad as hell, but she was there, close enough that he could smell her perfume. Beulah wore a lot of perfume.

  “Here, I brought you some smokes,” Beulah said, pulling cigarettes out of her purse. She was calming down a little, and the red had begun to drain out of her face. The remark he made about nearly going crazy from thinking about her was the kind of remark she liked to hear.

  “I wish they’d caught Billy Miller instead of you,” Beulah said.

  “Why have you got it in for Billy?” Charley asked. “Billy don’t mean no harm.”

  “That’s all you know,” Beulah said. “Rose gave in and went out with him a few times, and the next thing you know, the little jerk was two-timing her.”

  “With who?” Charley asked, curious. Back in Sallisaw, a man was lucky to have one wife, or one girlfriend, or one anything. But up in St. Louis, in the big city, anything could happen. It was like he was living two different lives, one in Oklahoma and one in Missouri—or he had been, until he got caught and stuck in jail. Now, he wasn’t really living any life—but still, two women had showed up at the jail to see him. The thought perked him up a little. The company of Elbert Devaney, and old Tommy Pippin, had begun to get him down.

  “With some hash-slingin’ slut,” Beulah said, her voice full of scorn. “My sister won’t put up with two-timing men, and neither will I.”

  “Rose won’t have to put up with it unless she moves to Indiana,” Charley said. “I hear that’s where Billy’s hiding out.”

  Beulah’s face, which had just begun to soften, immediately hardened again—Charley realized he had made a slip.

  “Who told you he was in Indiana?” Beulah asked. “Not everybody has that information.”

  Charley decided to be brazen. In his experience, if he had to lie to a woman who had cornered him, as his wife Ruby often did, the best course was to tell the biggest lie he could come up with.

  “Why, Billy sent me a postcard,” he said. “I got it just before the sheriff hauled me off.”

  The next thing he knew, Beulah had slapped him as hard as she could. The slap made enough noise that the guard heard it.

  “Here, now,” the guard said, frowning at Beulah. “You’re supposed to visit him, not beat him up. We’ll beat up on him ourselves, if he needs it.”

  “Mind your own business, fatso,” Beulah said, furious. The guard was on the heavy side. “I guess I can smack my boyfriend if I want to.”

  “Not in St. Louis City Jail you can’t,” the guard informed her. “We don’t allow whores to beat up on stiffs, not in this jail.”

  “Hey, this is my fiancée,” Charley said, turning to the guard. “We’d be married already if you boys hadn’t got me mixed up with the crook who robbed that armored car. Don’t be callin’ my fiancée no whore.”

  “Then tell her to buy a punchin’ bag, if she’s itchin’ to slug somebody,” the guard said. He took a plug of tobacco out of his hip pocket, and broke himself off a chaw.

  “Honey, get yourself under control,” Charley told Beulah, trying to soothe her. “One more slap, and we’ll lose our visitin’ rights.”

  “I don’t know why I’d wanna visit a two-timin’ liar like you anyway,” Beulah said.
Charley had put his arm around her shoulder, and she shrugged it off. “I’ll tell you right now, if I find out you had anything to do with that old whore, you’ll never lay eyes on me again.”

  Charley leaned back, trying to look startled by this threat.

  “Beulah, I’d just as soon go blind than to think I’d never see you again,” he said.

  Beulah hadn’t expected him to say anything that strong. The thought of Charley’s sad brown eyes going blind brought her temperature down a little.

  “Why don’t you go peek in the ladies’ room—Cousin Annie might still be in there, powderin’ her nose,” Charley suggested. “If Ma Ash was here, it’s probably ’cause one of her fool sons got arrested.”

  “They ain’t arrested. Wally was pesterin’ me just this morning,” Beulah said. “I wish you was out, I need you to sock him.”

  Charley didn’t like the thought of Wally Ash being anywhere near Beulah.

  “That chump,” he said. “Why’d you ever go out with a chump like that, anyway?”

  “Oh, I don’t know,” Beulah said, flustered. She wanted to sit on Charley’s lap and kiss him a few times, but the fat guard was looking right at them, so she didn’t dare.

  “I wish that goon would leave us alone for a minute,” she said. “I’ve been missin’ you so bad, I’m all in a fuss.”

  “Maybe he’ll choke on that chaw,” Charley said, grinning at the guard. The smell of Beulah Baird’s perfume was beginning to liven him up. He could tell she was in the mood to spoon a little, too. Beulah possessed a goodly amount of brass, as she quickly demonstrated by walking over to the guard with a dollar bill in her hand.

  “Say, mister, if I give you this dollar, will you turn your back for a few minutes?” she asked.

  “Nope,” the guard said. “If you give me that dollar, I’ll arrest you for bribery.

  “You shouldn’t of got sassy with me,” he added. “I don’t accept no bribes from sassy women.”

  “I didn’t mean it when I called you fatso,” Beulah said, giving him her sweetest smile. “I like a man with a stout build.”

  The guard tried to ignore this compliment to his physique, but no man could remain totally immune to Beulah when she turned on her charm. After all, Floyd would soon be off to prison, leaving Beulah behind. She was smiling at him gaily, and standing close enough that he could smell her perfume.

  “What’s your name, anyway?” Beulah asked.

  “Hershel,” the guard said. “Hershel Farrow.”

  “Hershel, couldn’t you turn your back for just one teeny minute?” Beulah asked, batting her eyes at him hard and fast.

  “Aw, go on and smooch him, if you want to,” Hershel said. “More smoochin’ goes on in this visitin’ room than goes on in a whorehouse in a whole month.”

  “Hey, don’t be talkin’ about whorehouses around my fiancée,” Charley said. “She’s a respectable girl, she don’t know nothin’ about stuff like that.”

  “If she’s so dern respectable, what’s she doin’ with a jailbird like you, Floyd?” the guard asked.

  But he politely turned his head when Beulah sat down on Charley’s lap and began to kiss him. When the visiting time was up, Hershel had to whack his nightstick against the doorjamb three or four times to get the two lovebirds’ attention. Beulah finally unpeeled herself from Charley, and allowed herself to be led out. She was crying like the world was coming to an end.

  Later, Hershel found himself unable to forget Beulah Baird. Girlfriends came and went all day long in the visiting room of the St. Louis City Jail, but Beulah Baird was special. She had those bright eyes and that sweet smile.

  “Why do you think women go for crooks?” he asked Elbert Devaney, after he had returned Charley Floyd to his cell.

  Elbert had never given that specific subject much thought, but he had given a lot of thought to the fact that women seemed to like almost any man better than they liked him. Of course, he did have a nervous eye, but then lots of men who had warts, or busted noses, or other defects had cute girlfriends.

  “Never thought about it,” he admitted to Hershel Farrow.

  “I wonder if they’re built different, crooks,” Hershel theorized.

  “Built different?” Elbert asked, befuddled. “Built different how?”

  “Built different down below,” Hershel replied.

  “Down below?” Elbert asked, even more puzzled than before. “Down below where?”

  Hershel began to regret even attempting to discuss such a complicated subject with someone as brickheaded as Elbert Devaney.

  “Aw, forget I ever mentioned it, you idjit,” he said.

  17

  Judge Bull Whaley was surprised to see Lulu Ash sitting at his customary table in the coffee shop of the Great Missouri Hotel. Judge Whaley could not remember how many years it had been since he had encountered Lulu Ash face-to-face, but he knew it was her the moment he stepped through the door of the coffee shop. Not many retired whores would be bold enough to help themselves to a seat at his table. Not many would be smart enough to realize that it was his table.

  “Good morning, Bull,” Lulu said, pleasantly. “You been eatin’ too many mashed potatoes.”

  “I rarely touch a mashed potato,” Judge Whaley said. “I content myself with mush now, mostly.”

  “You didn’t grow that belly eatin’ mush,” Lulu said.

  “Smart judges are all fat, Lulu,” Judge Whaley said. “Judicial wisdom requires a certain girth.”

  “I see,” Lulu said. “What if I bought you breakfast?”

  “I don’t want you buying me breakfast,” the judge said. “But I am glad to see you. Any news of Nora?”

  “Still sweet on her, are you?” Lulu asked.

  “No,” Judge Whaley said. “I ain’t sweet on her—I’m in love with her. That’s a far worse condition for a man with my responsibilities.

  “I ’bout died when she married. But you know that,” he added.

  “You could yet, couldn’t you?” Lulu asked.

  “I mostly feel dead as it is, to tell you the truth,” the judge replied. “But I might rise up like Lazarus if I could spend a few nights with Nora.”

  Lulu Ash said nothing. A waiter hurried over with the judge’s coffee.

  “You’re an unlikely Jesus, Lulu,” the judge said. “Maybe you’re going to raise me up.”

  “Maybe I am, Bully,” Lulu said. “It depends.”

  “Oh,” the judge sighed. “That’s how it is.”

  “I know where she is,” Lulu Ash announced.

  “Lulu, I don’t care where she is unless she wants to see me,” the judge informed her. “If she was in China and wanted to see me, I’d catch the first boat. But if she’s across the street and doesn’t want to see me, then it’s no matter.”

  “She wants to see you,” Lulu Ash said. “You should have left your wife, if you love Nora so much.”

  “No argument there,” the judge said. “I should have left my wife.”

  “Then why didn’t you?” Lulu asked.

  “I wish I knew,” Judge Whaley said. The waiter came back with eggs, ham, potatoes, and lots of biscuits, all of which he set in front of Lulu Ash.

  “It was cowardice, I suppose,” the judge said finally, taking a biscuit.

  “I knew that anyway,” Lulu told him. “It’s always cowardice when a man won’t choose. I just wanted to hear you admit it.”

  “I admitted it, now where’s Nora?” the judge asked.

  “She’s handy,” Lulu replied.

  Judge Whaley sighed again. He had never liked dealing with women, particularly women like Lulu Ash. So far as he knew, Lulu had never given anything away, at least not to him.

  “I’ve got to get to court, what do you want?” he asked.

  “I want you to go easy on the Floyd boy,” Lulu informed him.

  The judge looked around the dining room, which was usually filled with lawyers, other judges, bailiffs, and the like. None were there at the moment,
since he tended to be about twenty minutes ahead of the breakfast crowd, in order to have some time to think. But the boys would soon be coming, and none of them would miss the fact that he was breakfasting with Lulu Ash. A newspaperman or two might even show up; they wouldn’t miss the fact, either.

  “You oughtn’t to order such a big breakfast when you’re bribing a judge,” he said. “You need to bribe him quick and then skedaddle.”

  “I ain’t bribin’ you—it’s just a simple trade I had in mind,” Lulu said. “There’s no law against tradin’.”

  “I expect Nora could find me if she really wanted to see me,” the judge said. “If she really wants to see me, I don’t need to be making any trades with you.”

  “If you think it’s that simple, then do as you please,” Lulu Ash said.

  The judge pondered that a moment. Two bailiffs walked in while he was pondering.

  “Well, it was a first offense,” he said. “I might give him five instead of ten.”

  “That’ll do,” Lulu said. “He’s a soft boy. He’d never recover from ten.”

  “If he’s soft, he may not recover from five,” the judge told her. “He may not even survive. I’m not soft, but I’d be hard put to survive five years in Jeff City.”

  “Yeah, but you’re a judge,” Lulu said.

  “A judge who’s crazy about a whore,” she added.

  Judge Whaley knew it was true. Just thinking about Nora made him want to leave the bench, leave his wife, desert his children. Every form of ruin seemed preferable to a life without Nora Mullins.

  Two lawyers came into the dining room. Lulu was finishing her eggs.

  “The boys are starting to show up,” he told her. “You might show a little consideration.”

  “Oh, can it!” Lulu replied, annoyed. She hated to be rushed when she was enjoying a good meal. “We ain’t doin’ nothing wrong. They’ll think I’m settin’ you up with a girl.”

  “Which you are, I hope,” the judge said.

  Lulu finished the eggs, and wiped her lips.

  “She lives in St. Charles on Fifth Street, in a white house with blue shutters,” she said. “It’s the only house with blue shutters on Fifth Street.”