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Ninety Days Inside The Empire: A Novel by William Appleman Williams

The Dream and The Reality of Violence

Page 103

*****

Marsh, The Reverend and Wendell Rogers spent part of Monday morning discussing the practicalities of getting the Wyes a new place to live. The solution escaped them. Afterwards, Marsh started downtown, changed his mind, and drove out to the Base hoping to catch Mitch or Run-Run at midday. He was lucky. Mitch was still in his office.

"Give you a minute, Marsh. Got a meeting about the Presidential desegregation order coming down. The Admiral is upset. I don't know whether he is shitting on the half-hour or whether it's backing up to his throat. Either would please me."

"I'm glad I'm on your side, Commander. Keep me in on that; but all I want now is to talk moving the Wyes. Your housing people any help?"

"Not really. Cat's already been there, but I checked again after Caroline told me about the other afternoon's visit from Mrs. Warrener. There are some listings, but all of them are way beyond what Cat can pay. He's got to eat, too."

"The usual gimmie-gimmie. Anyway, will they move?"

"Cat says so, but you better see Run-Run. They're so tight that sometimes nothing squeezes out between the edges."

"Where?"

Marsh checked the operations schedule. "You just might catch him coming off the line. He was up this morning."

"Thanks. I'll be back."

Walking, well, limping, down to the hangars, Marsh saw Run-Run cutting off to the officers' mess. He hailed him, gimped along over to meet him.

"I need some advice."

"I'm probably in short supply, so come along and eat."

"Thanks, but I got to keep moving. What I want to know is will your friends move?"

"You seen Mitch?"

"Yes, but he sent me to you."

"Getting the paper out of there was the big thing. Before that Susan wouldn't have listened to anybody - not even Cat. And then this shit about Nancy hit Susan hard about the baby. They'll move...."

Run-Run smoked rarely. A bit when drinking, and sometimes under pressure. Now he lit one.

"...But where? Cat and I drove around the other day. All we found was either awful or way out of line on price. Mostly both." He threw the cigarette away, then walked over and stubbed it out. "I'll talk with Cohen, but I doubt he knows much about the kind of rents they can afford- and it's got to be close to a bus line."

"Cohen may surprise you. In the meantime I can get them something at the hotel."

"Won't do for very long, Judge. They are not the hotel type."

"I know, particularly with the baby coming on. But we got to get them out of there, Warrener and her Klan friends worry me."

"Sure you don't want to try the Navy's menu?"

"Positive."

Driving back to the hotel, Marsh passed but did not notice Mrs. Warrener. She was walking home after shopping, but her mind was on the Wyes. She did not take her usual enjoyment from men looking at her with interest and speculation. She set her purchases on the kitchen counter and went straight to her diary. Lunch could wait. She reviewed the evidence, which consisted of a meticulous record of all the people who had visited the Wyes - and how long they had stayed. The Negroes were underlined. Next she noted the times that she had heard the peculiar rhythm and sound of a mimeograph machine. She had put it down as Thurrumph-swish, Thurrumph-swish, Thurrumph-swish. On and on through the afternoon or evening.

Eveline Warrener closed the diary and put her hands on her breasts and adjusted their fit inside her brassiere. Then she attended to a tingle around her pubic bone.

-- Oh, my, Eveline, that Lieutenant Wye would enjoy the things you could teach him of an afternoon.