The American Café

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67 11 The holding cell smelled like full-strength Lysol. Pearl hated the odor but decided it was better than the alternative. She didn’t want to think about what had probably transpired inside this cage, but she was sure it could have smelled much worse. She would have to remember to say more prayers for the drunks of Cherokee County. A green cotton blanket covered a thin mattress on a narrow metal bed bolted to the wall. The bedding appeared to be clean, for which she was grateful. This was the second day of Pearl’s incarceration. Soon, she hoped, someone would come and take her back to the hospital with the white, shiny walls and bright lights. Pearl hated being in jail. She hated being anywhere . For that matter, she hated being alive. On more than one occasion, she’d simply prayed for death to deliver her from her miserable existence. However, much to her chagrin, that request had yet to be honored. The door opened and Pearl stood up, ready to go. But instead of a limousine ride out of Liberty, it was George Stump delivering breakfast. “Stand back, you old hag.” A wooden plank attached to the bars opposite the bed created a makeshift dining room table. Stump unlocked the door, carried in a metal folding chair, popped it open with one hand and plopped a tray of food down on the wooden ledge. “I don’t know exactly why you rate,” said Stump, “but you got a visitor.” For the first time, Pearl noticed someone had come in behind the police chief. Pearl couldn’t see too well, even with her glasses, but she could tell it was a woman. “Who is it?” “It’s the woman from the café,” he said. “She brought you this food and she wants to talk to you. So you be nice to her.” Then Stump turned his attention to Sadie. “If you need anything, I’ll be right out front. Okay?” 68 He slammed the cell door shut, then popped open another metal folding chair outside the cell for Sadie and retreated to his office. Sadie thanked him and took a seat. “What do you want?” asked Pearl, swiping at strands of gray hair surrounding her face. “Well, the police department is paying me to bring you food.” Pearl eyed her visitor. “So? What else do you want?” “To be truthful, I’m not sure. I thought I might persuade you to explain why you dislike me so much. First of all, if your gun had been loaded, I would most likely be dead now. Secondly, you destroyed the front window of my restaurant, and in doing so, caused a man to fall off his ladder and get hurt.” Pearl looked at Sadie and then looked at the plate sitting inside the cell, covered with a red-and-white checkered dish towel. “Go ahead and eat your food,” said Sadie, “before it gets cold.” “You trying to poison me? That would be okay with me, you know.” “No, no,” said Sadie. “I’d never do that.” Pearl uncovered the plate, took it back to her bed where she balanced the plate on her lap and began to devour scrambled eggs, bacon, biscuits, and sausage gravy. If it was poison, Pearl thought, it sure was tasty. The two women sat in silence until Pearl finished her breakfast. She placed the plate back on the wooden plank but kept the dish towel in her hand. “Thank you,” she said. “I’m sure you didn’t have to make such a nice plate.” “Mrs. Mobley, is there something I did to you that I don’t know about?” Pearl stared at her. “What you got to say for yourself?” “Say?” Sadie asked. “I don’t know what you want me to say.” “You don’t have to say nothing,” Pearl sneered. “Okay, how about a question then? Did you kill Goldie Ray?” Pearl looked at the ceiling, contemplating Sadie’s question while she nonchalantly stroked her slender neck. “She had it coming,” she finally said. “What do you mean?” Pearl felt a surge of hatred rise within her as she spit out her words. “I mean, she was there.” “Goldie?” Sadie began to show interest in Pearl’s words. “Goldie was where, Mrs. Mobley?” 69 “She was there when they had their way with me.” Pearl shuffled over to...