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"Get your coat now, Ice Man"
But Gabe wouldn’t let it alone "Come on, now What do you see for your old pal Gabriel?"
"Under the bridge… don’t walk under the bridge," Isaiah said softly "He’s there"
"What bridge? Hionna happen to me if I do?"
"You’ll die"
"Isaiah!" Merowled "He doesn’taround Say you’re sorry, Isaiah"
Eyes big, Isaiah looked froain "Sorry, Gabe," he said in a s, Isaiah?" Gabe asked
"That’s right," Isaiah whispered He kept his head down
Gabe’s face relaxed into a grin that was part relief, part annoyance "Little brothers," he said, shaking his head He clapped Meet about that other business, Memphis"
"I won’t," he said
Blind Bill Johnson sat in the corner nursing the cup of soup Reggie had been kind enough to give him The soup was thin but warm, and he had eaten it slohile the scene at the counter unfolded Now, his soup finished, he lifted his guitar onto his back with a grunt and tapped his cane out into the streets of Harle rain He didn’t like rain It reminded him of Louisiana, back when he was a sharecropper’s son with two good eyes, picking cotton all day, and the rain would about drown ato make his quota It reminded him of the day the owner, Mr Suitar instead of picking cotton, and how later, the man’s half of the crops failed--browned to wisps--and they found Mr S of rice gone bad with rot, and the whispers went around that Bill Johnson wasn’t aof the Mabouya about hiht and cursed at Papa Legba That he’d spit upon the cross That he’d sold his soul to the Devil
It was raining the day the men in the dark suits caht their attention Word had spread that Bill Johnsondohen it needed ry, he could hold a butterfly in his hand and it would fall dead The men in dark suits sat, cool and patient as you please, all bland s leht to the man of twenty then, six feet tall, his skin a smooth dark brown and free of the brands his ancestors ith shame Bill sat on an old cane chair with his hands on his knees while the men asked questions: Did Bill want to help keep his country safe? Would he like to ride with them and talk?
Bill had wanted out of the fields and out of Louisiana, with its white-hooded one with the dark-suited men, had ridden in the back of their car with the curtains over the side s He’d done the things they’d asked He’d told the on his body, showed therayed He was only twenty, but he looked fifty The men had smiled those same bland smiles and said, "Just one ht shriveled up to tiny points of blurry light that finally faded to black, they sent hiuitar, a raised scar on his skin, and a handshake of warning to keep quiet His sight was gone, his body used up and broken And his gift--if that’s what it could be called--seemed to have deserted him, too How many tiift back? And then, suddenly, about three s of hope All he needed was the right spark to get it running again
Now, as the Ca the little bell over the door to tolling, Bill could hear theift--that was perfectly clear--and the older brother wanted to keep it a secret That was sood to let on to anyone about secrets like that The wrong person erous
The first raindrops splatted against Bill’s dark glasses and he frowned Da, he rubbed the scar on his left hand and tapped his cane downhill
A HEAVENLY STAR
Theta was pouting To anyone else, she probably just looked bored But Henry knew everything about Theta, and she was e of the stage in her one-piece shorts outfit and black stockings that showcased her lithe body She’d tied a green paisley scarf across her forehead in a Boheht contrast to her mud-brown eyes and fashionable tan