Soul Circus

“You can’t find one white face down here anymore,” said Qui

“There’s one,” said Strange, pointing to the sidewalk fronting one of the many liquor stores serving the neighborhood. A cockeyed woman with a head of uncombed blond hair and stretch pants pulled up to her sagging bustline stood there drinking from a brown paper bag. “Looks like they forgot to do their head count this morning up at St. E’s.”

Strange was hoping to bring some humor to the subject. But he knew Terry would not give it up now that he’d been stepped to.

“Bet you there’s some down here, they’d tell you that’s one too many white people on these streets,” said Qui

“Here we go.”

“You remember that loud-mouth guy they had in this ward, ran for the city council, Shazam or whatever his name was? The guy who wanted everyone to boycott the Korean grocery stores?”

“Sure, I remember.”

“And?”

“And, nothin’,” said Strange.

“So you agreed with that guy.”

“Look. People down here got a right to be angry about a lot of things. They talk it out among themselves, in the barbershop and at the di

“People like me, huh?”

“Yeah. Black folks don’t put down their own so they can feed white people what they want to hear.”

“This guy ran his whole election on fear and hate, Derek.”

“But he didn’t win the election, did he?”

“Your point is what?”

“In the end, in their own quiet way, the majority of the people always prove that they know the difference between right and wrong. What I’m saying is, there’s more good people out here than there are bad. Once you get hip to that, that anger you’re carrying around with you, it’s go

“You think I’m angry?”

“Look at the world more positive, man.” Strange reached for the tape deck, looking for some music and some peace. “Trust me, man, it’ll help you get through your day.”

Chapter 5

“I SEE you’re a ’Skins fan,” said Mario Durham, nodding at the plaster figure with the spring-mounted head on Strange’s desk.

“I see you are, too,” said Strange, his eyes passing over the Sanders jersey Durham wore as he sat slumped in the client chair.

“I do like Deion. Boy can play.”

“He couldn’t play for me. Biggest mistake the ’Skins ever made, gettin’ rid of a heart-and-soul player like Brian Mitchell for a showboat like Deion. Mitchell used to get that whole team up, man. That’s what happens when a new owner comes in, doesn’t understand the game.”

“Whateva. You a longtime fan, though, I can see. This right here must go back to Charley Taylor and shit.” Durham reached out and flicked the head of the plaster figure. Greco, lying belly down on the floor, raised his head and growled.

“Watch it,” said Strange. “My stepson painted that, and it’s special. Money can’t replace it.”

“That dog all right? Animals and me don’t get along.”

“You interrupted his beauty sleep,” said Strange.

Durham shifted in his chair. “So anyway, like I was sayin’, I’m lookin’ for this girl.”

“Olivia Elliot,” said Qui

“Right. I was knowin’ her for, like, two months, and I thought we was gettin’ along pretty good.”

“Where’d you two meet?” said Strange.

“I was tryin’ to hook up with this other girl, see, worked at this nail and braid salon in Southeast. I went in there lookin’ to date this girl, and I see Olivia, got some woman’s hand in her lap, paintin’ it. Y’all know how that is, when you get a look at a certain kind of woman and you say, uh-huh, yeah, that right there is go

“You had a lot of girlfriends, Mario?”

“I ain’t go

“And then she left,” said Qui

“She just up and left, and I ain’t heard from her since.”

“You two have an argument, something like that?” said Strange.

“We was cool,” said Durham, “far as I know.”

“Where was she staying when she disappeared?”

“She had this apartment, stayed with her son, young boy. They stayed in this place they rented off Good Hope.”

“Her son’s name?”

“Mark.”

“Same last name? Elliot?”

“Uh-huh.”

“And he’s in school?”

“Elementary, down in that area they was stayin’ in, I guess, but I don’t know the name.”

“You try her mother, any other family?” said Strange.

“She never spoke of any kin,” said Durham. “Look, fellas, I’m worried about the girl.”

“Why hire private cops?” said Qui

“What my partner means is,” said Strange, “you suspect some kind of foul play, what you need to do is, you need to report it to the police.”

“Black girl goes missin’ in Southeast, police ain’t go

“All right, then,” said Strange. “Give Terry here the details on what you just told us. Addresses, phone numbers, all that.”

Strange went out to the reception area while Qui

“We all set, then,” said Durham.

“Just give my office manager out there your deposit on your way out,” said Strange, “and we’ll get going on this right away.”

“Fifty, right?”

“A hundred, just like Janine told you when you spoke to her on the phone.”

“Damn, y’all about to bankrupt a man.”

“It’s a hundred. But this shouldn’t take too long. Our rate is thirty-five an hour, and if it comes out to be under the hundred, then you’re go

“Put a rush on it, hear? I can’t even afford the hundred, seein’ as I’m in between jobs right now. I’m just anxious to see my girl.”

Durham began to walk from the room. Greco got up and followed him, sniffing at the back of his Tommys as he walked. Greco growled some, and Durham quickened his step. Greco stopped walking as Durham passed through the doorway. Qui

“Animal doesn’t like you,” said Strange, “must be a reason.”

“We don’t usually ask for one-hundred-dollar deposits, Derek.”

“I made an exception for him.”

“It’s because he’s black, right?”

“It’s because he’s a no-account knucklehead. That hundred’s the only money we’re ever go

“Donut, huh? You can bank that.”

“And his only phone number is a cell.”

“You think there’s something fu

“Course there is. Somethin’ fu

“You don’t think a woman would leave a prize like him for another man, do you? That’d be like, I don’t know, driving across town for a Big Mac when you got filet mignon cooking on the grill in your backyard.”