Louis Collins: A Post-American Odyssey

The van stopped. Savannah got out and opened the rear doors for them. Louis climbed down carefully, one hand on the door frame. His good foot reached the pavement before the cane. The house was an aging two-story brick home with a steep roof and a small dormer window in the attic. Curtains covered the front windows, and a dim porch light burned beside the door. A narrow drive ran along one side, with two cars parked beneath a pecan tree. The lawn was uneven at the edges, and weeds had taken over the flower beds. It looked like any other aging house on the block.

Louis looked around and saw several black men on the porches of the neighboring houses. Some stood in pairs. Others sat alone. One of them smoked a cigarette. All of them watched the van without expression. Louis counted six.

“Your father’s men?” Willa asked quietly.

Savannah nodded. “The neighborhood watch. They keep out the wrong kind of trouble.”

“Are we the right kind?” Donya asked.

“You’re with me,” Savannah said. “Tonight, that makes you the right kind.”

“Ain’t no white folks ever stayed over before,” Jacob said from behind them.

Louis glanced back at him. “First time for everything.”

“Yeah.” Jacob nodded. “And the last, probably. I gotta go. See y’all in the morning.”

He left. Savannah unlocked the front door and went in. The others followed. The house smelled faintly of lemon oil. The entry hall was narrow, with family photographs covering one wall in mismatched frames. Savannah closed the door and slid the deadbolt.

“Ain’t much need for alarms here,” she said. “The block watches itself.”

She led them through the dining room into a small breakfast room that had been converted into a photography area. A gray sheet had been clipped over one wall as a backdrop. Two standing lamps with white umbrella shades faced a folding chair.

“Welcome to the presidential portrait studio,” she said, raising the camera. “One at a time.”

“Excuse me?” Angelique asked.

“Y’all need new IDs if you wanna walk around this country without getting arrested or shot.” Savannah pointed at the chair. “Sit.”

Gladice looked at the camera and then at Savannah. “You can make real ones?”

“Not me.” Savannah checked the camera settings. “My father’s man handles the hard part. I just take the pictures.”

“That’s good enough for now.” Louis looked at the others. “Who wants to go first?”

“I will.” Angelique stepped toward the chair.

Savannah positioned her. “Chin up a little. Look straight at me. Good.” She took several photos. “Next.”

Donya went next, then Willa, and finally Gladice. When Louis’s turn came, Savannah turned around and searched through a drawer beneath the kitchen counter. She came back with a fake mustache in a small plastic packet.

“Put this on.”

Louis laughed. “No.”

“Come on. I found a blond one just for you,” Savannah said. “Make the picture look less like you.”

“I look terrible in mustaches.”

“Good. That’s the point.” She tossed the packet to him. “Put it on, or I’ll put it on you myself.”

Gladice snorted. “Do it, Louis. I want to see how you look.”

“Fine.” He opened the packet, peeled off the backing, and pressed the mustache onto his upper lip. It tickled, and he resisted the urge to scratch. Angelique looked at him and burst out laughing.

“That is the most ridiculous thing I have ever seen.”

“It’s not that bad,” Donya said.

“It’s terrible,” Willa said.

“I like it.” Gladice winked. “You look like a different kind of rich boy. The kind who runs a Ponzi scheme in Ohio.”

Savannah positioned him in the chair. “Now hold still. And try not to look so miserable.”

“I am miserable.”

“That works too.” She took several photos. “Alright. You’re done. You can take it off, but don’t throw it away. You might need it again.”

Louis peeled it off and rubbed his upper lip. “Happy now?”

“Delighted.” Savannah removed the memory card from the camera. “Bernice ought to have the beds ready by now. Follow me.”

She led them upstairs, opened the last door on the left, and stepped aside. The guest room was larger and more comfortable than Louis expected. Two double beds stood against opposite walls, covered with clean quilts. A narrow rollaway had been unfolded near the closet and made up beneath a thin summer blanket. The wallpaper was pale green and cracked near the window frame. A small bathroom opened off one side of the room.

Donya turned slowly in a circle. “This is so nice.”

“Bernice don’t like dust.” Savannah leaned against the doorframe. “And she likes guests to be able to find their way around in the dark.”

She crossed to the window, checked that the curtains overlapped, and turned back to them.

“Doors lock from the inside. Bathroom window doesn’t open. Need something, come downstairs. Breakfast’ll be ready at eight, if it ain’t the end of the world by then.”

“Thank you,” Angelique said.

Savannah gave her a nod. Then she looked at Louis. “See you at the table in the morning. My father’s gonna want to talk about the next move.”

“I am sure he will.”

She left and closed the door softly behind her. Gladice set the two packed backpacks on the nearest bed. Willa opened one, pulled out the laptop case, and carried it to the dresser. She took out the Athena laptop and powered it on. Louis opened the other backpack, moved aside several bundles of cash, and found the phone near the top. He placed it beside the laptop, checked the curtains, and looked at Willa.

“I need to call my father again.”

“Do it,” she said without looking away from the laptop screen. “I’m running background checks on the signal. It looks clear so far.”

Louis sat on the edge of the bed, rested the cane between his knees, and dialed his father’s secure emergency number. The call connected quickly.

“Louis.”

“Dad. We are safe for the night.”

“Good. Where?”

“Marcus Ellington’s house. In Atlanta.”

There was a pause. Then, “That’s interesting. Why?”

Louis told him about Savannah and the deal.

When he had finished, his father said, “Smart girl. The family knows how to trade.”

“Yes.”

“If he wants her in the Dominion, I will make sure she has a path. But the terms are still mine to set.”

“I promised her citizenship.”

“You can promise what you want, son. She gets what I give her.”

Louis kept his voice even.

“We made a deal, Dad. We need to fulfill it and we need Ellington to get us out of this country.”

“Did you get a firm commitment from him?”

“He is not lying about what he wants for her. So yes.”

“Alright.” Constantine sighed once. “Tell him that if he delivers you safely, I will ensure his daughter receives full citizenship, a residency in Santa Monica, and an introduction to the right people. But I want his word on the extraction. And I want to talk to him myself as soon as possible.”

“I will let him know.”

“Good.” Constantine paused. “How’s the knee?”

“Holding up.”

“And the girls?”

“Alive. Stressed. Not broken.”

“Good.” His father spoke more quietly. “Keep them close. Keep your eyes open. Call me again when it’s safe.”

“Alright, Dad.”

“Stay alive, Louis.”

“I will.”

The call ended. Louis turned off the phone and set it beside the laptop. Willa was studying the connection log on the screen.

“Nothing yet,” she said.

“Good.”

A single knock came at the door. Willa closed the laptop. Louis pushed himself up with the cane. Angelique opened the door a few inches. An older black woman with broad shoulders stood in the hallway carrying a tray with glasses of water, aspirin, and a small plate of sliced pound cake. She wore a robe over her dress.

“Y’all alright in here?”

“Yes. Thank you.” Angelique let her in.

“You must be Miss Bernice,” Louis said.

The woman looked at him.

“Mr. Louis.” She set the tray on the nightstand. “Ain’t every day I get a rich white boy in my house.”

Louis managed a smile. “I apologize for the inconvenience.”

She waved one hand. “It ain’t your fault. The world’s inconvenient.” Her eyes moved to Willa and Donya. “Heard you girls had a bad morning.”

Donya looked at Willa. Willa nodded.

“We did,” Donya said quietly. “Thank you for letting us stay here.”

Bernice’s expression softened. “Child, it’s a blessing to have a roof over your head at all these days.”

She pointed to the tray.

“Water and aspirin on the nightstand. Cake for anybody hungry. The bathroom’s stocked. Towels are clean. I’m downstairs if you need anything. Sleep well.”

“Thank you, Miss Bernice,” Angelique said.

The woman nodded and left.

Donya looked at the cake. “She is very kind.”

“The whole world’s not bad,” Gladice said. “Just most of it.”

Louis took two aspirin and drank the water. Then he sat on the edge of one of the double beds and began to unlace his boots. His knee throbbed. He stretched it out slowly. Angelique sat beside him.

“So this is it,” she said. “A night in a safe house.”

“For now,” Louis said.

She rested her head on his shoulder. “What do you think will happen tomorrow?”

“We’ll get out of this city,” Louis said. “One way or another.”

“Do you trust him?”

“Marcus?” Louis thought about it. “I trust him to protect his investment. That’s enough for now.”

Angelique nodded. “Good.”

“How do we handle the beds?” Willa asked.

“I’m going to sleep with Louis and Angel,” Gladice said. “You two can decide who gets the bed and who gets the rollaway. Or just share it for all I care.”

Donya looked at Willa.

“Fine by me. Unless you snore,” Willa said.

“I don’t snore,” Donya said.

“Alright. We’ll share the bed then.”

“Okay.” Donya smiled.

Gladice kicked off her boots. “Alright. I’m going to brush my teeth. I suggest you all do the same. Once upon a time, there was a private who didn’t brush his teeth. He had to get dentures at twenty-five. You don’t want that.” She went into the bathroom.

Angelique watched her go. “She’s so bossy sometimes.”

“But she’s right,” Willa said. “Oral hygiene is important. I can’t believe I haven’t flossed since this whole thing started. It’s disgusting.”

“Life is disgusting,” Louis said. “But we still have to live it.”

Donya sighed. “I need to pray.”

“Go ahead,” Angelique said. “Just don’t do it too loud. I’m tired.”

“I will be quiet.” Donya nodded. She went to the far corner of the room and turned toward the northeast. Standing on the rug, she lowered her gaze and folded one hand over the other. Her lips began to move in a quiet recitation. A moment later, she bowed, straightened, and lowered herself to the floor until her forehead touched the rug. Louis could not make out the words.

Gladice came out of the bathroom, wiping her mouth. She glanced at Donya, raised an eyebrow, and looked away.

“Don’t mind me,” she said to no one in particular. “Just a godless heathen passing through.”

Angelique stood and went to the bathroom without a word. Louis followed her in. They brushed their teeth at the sink, their shoulders nearly touching. He watched her in the mirror as she rinsed her mouth. They both looked tired. He reached over, took her free hand, and squeezed it. She met his gaze in the mirror, gave a small smile, and squeezed back.

When they returned to the room, Gladice had pulled the rollaway beside one of the double beds and was already in it, lying on her back and staring at the ceiling. Louis stripped off his jacket and trousers and lay down in the bed beside her. Angelique slid in beside him. The three of them lay there in the near dark while Willa and Donya finished in the bathroom.

For a while no one said anything. Then Gladice said into the dimness, “she would have liked this place.”

Louis put one arm around her and pulled her closer. “Yeah.”

Angelique said quietly from his other side, “She would have hated the drive.”

Louis put the other arm around Angelique.

Louis said, “She would have wanted to be here with us.”

Gladice tried to laugh, but the sound broke. “Yeah.”

Louis stared at the stain on the ceiling. Then it disappeared. In its place came Jennifer in the body armor, Jennifer in the truck light, Jennifer moving before she knew the cost of the movement.

Angelique moved closer and settled into his arms. From the rollaway, Gladice reached over and rested a hand on his chest.

“She never saw the ocean,” Louis said. His voice broke.

Gladice said, “She’ll see it now.”

Louis swallowed and turned his face into the pillow. The tears came without warning. He tried to hold them back, then let them come. He pressed his face into the pillow as his shoulders shook. Gladice squeezed his chest and shifted. He heard her sniffle. Angelique buried her head against his shoulder and cried too. They stayed like that for a long time, tangled together in the dark until sleep took them.