II. The Tears of a Clown
1.
Camellia Branch left her apartment on Carolina Highway and walked up to City Hall Street. There she turned west, crossing the train tracks, before heading briefly north on South Dogwood Avenue. She turned west again on Butler Street, noting the blight she walked past. The street pavement was splitting to the point it resembled crackled porcelain, and the double yellow line down the middle of the road was so faded that it was barely visible. Several of the houses she passed were being swallowed by kudzu and wisteria and wild grape vines, and their roofs were beginning to cave in. A few of the lots were empty of any building, the house that had once stood on them having been condemned and bulldozed, and they were now overgrown with loblolly and long-leaf pine seedlings, and dewberry vines, ragweed, nutsedge, chickweed, henbit, and virginia buttonweed. Fire ants had enthusiastically invaded the empty lots. Camellia noticed their mounds rising through the weeds with distaste: she was always alert to the ants’ presence since the day she had nearly died from anaphylactic shock, having been stung several dozen times after falling asleep in her childhood backyard and rolling onto a nest.
She saw a glimmer of hope in the fact that, despite the creeping decay, there were still properties that fought back: the house recently painted, the lawn neatly mowed with a couple of crepe myrtles or dogwoods growing up from a mound of mulch on either side of the walk to the front door, and a few rose bushes, or azaleas, or tea olives serving as foundation plantings.
After walking just over two blocks along Butler, she stopped in front of a small bungalow. Her father, Winthrop, was sitting in his rocking chair on the front porch. His front yard contained an enormous live oak, and the shade it cast made the lawn beneath it scruffy, and in spots the sandy soil was fully exposed. When he saw Camellia stop on the sidewalk he waved her up to the porch.
“Daddy, I gotta tell you about what just happened.”
As she was obviously agitated, Winthrop looked at his daughter with concern, and said, “Sit yo’self down and tell me what wrong.”
“Hampton, he show up at my apartment round six this morning. He look terrible, his eyes all bloodshot, his shirt button up all wrong, his shoes untied, and he didn’t even have no jacket on, despite it bein’ so cold.”
“Say what?”
“And he was all shakin’, like maybe he been doin’ blow all night or somethin’. And he just took hold my hand, kneeling down before me, and he start moanin’, soundin’ like he a dyin’ hound. And then after a bit, he git up and run out the door.”
Winthrop held up his hand to signal that he wanted a moment to think, and he gazed up into the branches of the live oak as though counting its leaves. Then he said:
“My baby girl, maybe I got him all wrong. It sound like he all crazy about you, and when I told you ignore him, it done drive him mad. And maybe I was just jealous. You know, ole folk like me, we done too easily forget about the passion of youth. Look, what we gotta do is go see Claude, and let him know his nephew in a bad place.”
2.
The Shepherd Real Estate office was in a storefront across the street from Denmark Hardware. The drab interior was the result of a focus on material gain so complete that aesthetic problems were not even visible. The walls needed a new coat of paint and the floor was scuffed up linoleum. The furniture was a couple of old desks that had been bought at a secondhand store, and one longer “conference” table that could be folded up if needed and brought to a church dinner to use as a serving table.
Claude and Gertie were seated at one side of that table, and they were meeting with Thaddeus Stevens and Alastair McIntyre who sat on the other. Claude addressed the two young men: “First of all, I wanna thank you for coming down from Clemson to help us out. Y’all been friends with Hampton for a long time, and he actin’ as crazy as an outhouse rat. So we gotta figure out what wrong with him.”
Gertie added, “He talk about y’all all the time, and we know he listen to you. So maybe you can help us out here?”
Thaddeus held his arms open wide. “Hey, we ready to help, however we can.”
Alastair said, “Yeah, what Thaddeus said!”
Gertie added, “We do appreciate you goin’ see him as soon as you can.”
As Thaddeus and Alastair were leaving the office, they met Winthrop on his way in.
Claude, seeing this new character coming on stage, looked up in surprise. “Winnie, what brings you here?”
“You been saying how Hampton been looking mighty upset.”
Claude raised his eyebrows. “And?”
“I done figured out what wrong with the boy.”
Winthrop paused for dramatic effect, but at that moment, Corny and Clarence, returning from their trip to Norway, entered the office.
Claude gave Winthrop the stop sign with his hand. “Winnie, you gonna have to wait a minute. These boys bringing me important news.
“Boys, whachoo learn?”
Clarence stepped forward towards the table. “We ain’t got nothing to worry about. Forrest swear he ain’t got no intentions toward Denmark. He is looking to expand a bit, but he got his eye turned north toward Swansea. He say the Boucher family up there looking weak, with stupid shit like car jackings and what not getting out of hand. He thinkin’ it time to bring some order to that mess.”
Claude told them “Boys, you done good. You all come by Elsie’s tonight, and the drinks are on me.”
Corny and Claude both mumbled their thanks and left.
“All right Winnie, whachoo got for me?”
“Yes sir, well, I mean to get right to the point here. Ain’t no sense beating around the bush, and making a whole speech when a few words will do. Ramblin’ on but saying nothing be a foolish waste of time. And y’all busy people so I surely don’t wanna waste your time.”
Gertie turned her head at a 45-degree angle and stared at Winthrop. “Right, so maybe you should get to the point sometime today.”
“The point is exactly what I’m getting to, and I don’t mean to delay getting there one little bit longer. Because in dealins with such important folk as y’all, a man gotta be brief. And I could go on and on sayin’ nothin’ with a whole lot of words, but that ain’t my way.”
Claude put his head in his hand for a moment, then looked up at Winthrop and said, “So you gonna tell us what up, or you gonna just keep tellin’ us you gonna tell us what up?”
Winthrop wrung his hands a little, but continued: “Now, I ain’t pleased to bring you this news, but the problem with Hampton’s mind be my daughter.”
Claude gave Winthrop a puzzled look. “How she the problem?”
“Well, sir, it seem your boy Hampton done fall hard for her. Lemme read you this text that he done sent her.”
Winthrop took his smartphone out of his pocket and lifted it with a flourish before his face. He cleared his throat, and began reading:
“You know you like heaven to me,
the most beautiful woman I ever seen,
and I just wanna lay my head on your ebony breasts…”
Gertie asked, “Is there more like that?”
“Yeah, he wrote her some rap lyrics or something:
“My love burns like a flaming star
Brighter than the sun at noon
I ain’t lying about what you are
You’re the notes that make my tune”
Claude asked him, “So what she doing about all this?”
“You know I’m loyal to y’all, right?”
“I never doubted it.”
“Then you know I don’t treat this as no game of craps or gin rummy. I ain’t playing bunco here!”
Gertie made a face like she had just bit into a lemon. “What the hell you talking about Winnie?”
“What I tryin’ to say is course I went and talk to her. And I told her to pay him no mind. Cause, you know, the whole thing don’t make no sense. But he apparently takin’ her rejection pretty hard, and I do believe that why he actin’ so strange.”
Claude looked at Gertie. “You think this is possible?”
“Yeah, the boy always got his damn head in the clouds, fulla romance and whatnot.”
“So how we gonna find out for sure?”
Winthrop stroked his grizzled chin for a moment, and then stuck his index finger up in the air. “What about this? You know how Hampton like to go down the bar and drink a beer in the afternoon?”
“Yeah, he do.”
“Well, what if I have my girl go in and meet him there, and we can hang in the back room and see what happen.”
Claude nodded. “Yeah, that’s a plan.”
Gertie gestured at the office window. “And speak of the devil.”
Hampton was meandering down the sidewalk on the opposite side of the street, earbuds on, singing something to himself.
Winthrop told Claude and Gertie, “Get yoselves in the back room, and Imma call Hampton in.”
Claude said, “Yeah, why not? Come on, Gertie.”
Once they were out of the main room, Winthrop got up, opened the door of the office, and called across the street to Hampton.
“Yo Hampton, what up? You got a minute?” Winthrop waved toward the office.
Hampton looked puzzled, but nevertheless walked across the street and into the office.
Winthrop told him, “Take a seat, son,” and sat back down himself.
He looked at Hampton with the most concern he could muster, and asked, “Now you know, I always got your best interest at heart?”
“Yeah, for a pimp, you alright!”
“A pimp? I ain’t no pimp.”
“Then I only wish you was honest as a pimp.”
“Honest?”
“In this rotten old world, ain’t one man in ten thousand be honest.”
“True dat.”
“Ain’t you got a daughter?”
Winthrop’s eyes widened, and he nodded nervously, his eyes scanning the room as though noting the exits.
“Yeah, you know damn-well I got a daughter.”
“You keep her close at home. Otherwise some rounder come along and knock her up.”
As Winthrop attempted to mumble out something that might pass as a cogent response, the office door opened, and Thaddeus and Alastair re-entered.
Thaddeus said, “Yo, Hampton, we been looking all over town for you.”
Alastair looked at Winthrop and said, “Hey Winthrop, we gotta have a word with our boy here. You alright leaving us alone for a bit?”
“Sure nuff.” Winhtrop leaned in close to Alastair, whispering, “He gone a bit crazy. But be careful: he crazy like a fox.” He then walked out of the office.
Thaddeus and Alastair remained standing in front of Hampton. He asked them, “What up, my brothers?”
Thaddeus answered, “Yeah, we doing OK. Not too up and not too down.”
Alastair added, “We ain’t on the top of the world, but we ain’t on the bottom neither.”
Hampton asked them, “So when it comes to lady luck, y’all all kind of right in the middle?”
Thaddeus and Alastair both laugh, and Alastair answered, “Yeah, that us, stuck right in her privates!”
“So what brings y’all here?”
Thaddeus answered, “We just come to see you, see how you doing.”
Hampton shook his head to express his disappointment: “Yo, don’t give me no bullshit: you was sent for, right?”
Thaddeus and Alastair both looked sheepish. Thaddeus asked, “What you want us to say?”
“I guess you could go on and say anything you want, just so long as it ain’t the truth.”
Hampton’s friends squirmed about uneasily, like catawba worms on the end of a fish hook.
“Y’all terrible liars. I know Claude done called you here.”
Alastair admitted, “Yeah, he did.”
Hampton stood up. “And I’m gonna tell you why. That way, you ain’t gotta be betray no pledge you give Claude not to tell me why y’all here. You here because I ain’t been myself of late. What a piece of work y’all are!”
Thaddeus shook his head. “Maybe them Spiritual Gospel Singers your uncle hired could cheer you up.”
“He hired some gospel singers? My uncle?”
Alastair answered, “Yeah, he hired some big-ass group from up Columbia way, and he havin’ them put on a free program tonight, over at Rome Baptist Church. I think he’s tryin’ to get in good with the locals since he took over for yo’ daddy. In fact, their tour bus come into town just before we got here, and I think their manager is due by the office any minute now.”
As though on command, the door to the office swung open right at that moment, and a bearded, older black man, dressed in a scarlet suit with a pink shirt and burgundy tie, entered the room.
“How y’all doing? I’m Norbert Doubleton. My group gonna perform tonight, and I’m looking for Mr. Claude Shepherd. He around?”
Hampton stood up. “Pleased to meet you. I’m Hampton Shepherd. My uncle ain’t here at the moment, but I’d like a word. Oh, and these here are my old friends Thad and Al, come all the way down from Clemson to see how I’m doing.”
Everyone shook hands with Norbert, and Hampton motioned for him to have a seat.
“Listen, Thad, Al, I’d like to have a word with Mr. Doubleton here kinda private like. So whachoo say we meet up a little later at Elsie’s and grab a beer?”
Thaddeus and Alastair rose from their seats. Thaddeus said, “Sure thing, brother, what time you be there?”
“Probably ’round three o’clock.”
“OK, we see you then.”
They walked out of the office, leaving Hampton and Norbert alone. Hampton leaned forward towards Norbert and, sotto voce, said “My man, I need you to do me a real big favor. And whatever my uncle is paying you, I’ll add that much again if you can do this for me.”
“Now wait just a second, I don’t wanna be doing nothing unrighteous!”
“No, nothing like that at all. All Imma ask you is to add one song tonight, one that I’ll write up for you. I can rehearse it with you right before the program.”
“You know, we don’t perform no secular music, OK?”
“This gonna be a Bible-based song. It gonna be about Cain and Abel.”
“Well that sounds just fine then. The program start at seven PM tonight – though of course that seven CPT – and we gonna be setting up by around six. So you come by between six and seven, and teach us your song, and we be happy to add it.”
“All right Mr. Doubleton, we got us a deal.”
Hampton and Norbert both rose from their seats and shook hands. As they walked out of the office and onto the sunlit sidewalk, Norbert said, “Tell your uncle Claude we over at the church by six.”