Randy White - Shark River

Now she said, “First thing you should know, Izzy? I ain’t your friend. Man, I careful about who I be calling my friends. And you two ain’t among them.”

It was the second or third time she’d skewered them with a barb. Now, as before, Izzy just laughed, turning to share the fun with an unsmiling Clare. He flicked his hands at Ransom as if to flick the insult away. “Girl, you spirited! That much I always know. Maybe you unhappy because we two island men, we remind you of the old times back at New Bight.” For the first time, he directed his attention to me. “Mister? You maybe not believe it, but this fine-looking woman, she not always so fine-looking! No sir! Back on the island, she used to be what we call a cushion girl. A cushion girl, she someone who easy to lay on the floor and make for very easy pushin’. This girl, my sister Ransom, she had lots and lots of cushion and always ready to get down on the floor with ’bout any ol’ bush boy that come along. Yes, she was!”

I didn’t like the shrill laughter he used as a rim shot to his poor jokes. Didn’t like the condescending way he called me sir, not meaning it, letting me know with his inflection that it was a veil for contempt. To Ransom, I said, “How well you know these two guys?”

She said, “It took me a day to know they both idiots, and took fifteen years to try and find a way to ignore ’em.” I was heartened by her tone, her combativeness. She was right there with me.

I said, “Then I think I’m going to ask your island visitors to leave. This guy-” I swung my chin toward Izzy. “He’s either very stupid, or he’s very rude.”

Clare spoke for the first time, opening his eyes slightly, as if I’d just awakened him. “What you just say, my man? You call my brotheren stupid? Man, that a very stupid thing for you to do. You insult my brother, you insult the Lion of Judah, you insult the Holy Piby. Man, you insult me.”

Rasta talk? Apparently.

I told him, “The only one I was trying to insult was Izzy. But if I nailed you and a couple of others, that’s just fine. Ask Izzy to explain that as you leave. Which you’re going to do right now, by the way.”

Izzy held his hands up-hold it, hold it! Said, “Ransom girl, now I understand why you come to this rich Sanibel Island place. You make yourself so beautiful, you find you a nice big white gentleman to look after you. Protect you when you need it. That a very good thing. And sir? You got you a very good woman here. Nice woman who know how to work hard, treat her man right. I make you angry with what I say about my old friend, sister Ransom? Then I apologize. Yes I do. Clare and me, sir, we come from a lil’ island far away. Don’t know nothin’ about behaving in a rich man’s world like this. So please forgive me. Forgive us.”

I said nothing, looking at his golden smile, at Clare’s fuming glare, not certain if I was disappointed I had a bum arm or not. Clare had the look of muscle density and lots of fast twitch quickness. Maybe it was better to have an excuse. A reason to call the cops and ask someone else to make them leave.

Yep. Not much doubt about it. In a way, I was glad my arm was in a sling.

When I still made no reply, Izzy said, “Whether you accept our ’pology or not, sir, we got us a problem. Yes, we do. I very sad to say that. But it not a big problem if Ransom agree to cooperate. Thing is, Ransom, she went into the home of my former employer-his name Sinclair Benton-she go into Mr. Benton’s home after the man die, and she helped herself to a pile of money there, and a ring. That ring, it very valuable, man.”

“It not just any ring,” Clare added, looking at Ransom. “You so ignorant in the ways of the Lord, you probably don’t even know what it was you took. That ring, it a holy ring, girl. It the royal ring of Haile Selassie, the one made a present to him by the Ethiopian Church. That ring, it belonged to King Solomon, who give it to the Queen of Sheba, who give it to her son, Prince Menelik of Ethiopia. And that the way the ring be passed along for three thousand years ’til our Saint, Bob Marley, he lost it somehow on one of the small islands. But our employer, Mr. Benton, he get it back ’cause he know the proper way of certain words and herbs.”

Ransom said, “You mean he a witch. That what you sayin’. Or Benton stole that ring from Bob Marley his own self.”

“Don’t you be talking about Mr. Benton, you know what’s good for you girl. He dead but he still got power on Cat Island.”

“I ain’t on Cat Island no more. Big ol’ fat witch man! He treat me dirty all my life.”

Izzy was still using his peacemaker’s tone. “We all know why that is, Ransom girl. It ’cause your white daddy steal a bunch’a gold coins from him long ago in the back years and Mr. Benton, he not a man to forgive a person easily.”

“He call me a cow! You two boys right there to hear his words. Laughed right along with everybody at New Bight.”

“That give you no right to rob him!” Clare banged his walking stick on the deck for emphasis, then said to me, “She take a stack of cash money, too. American money. Ten thousand dollars was in that box, girl. Izzy, he just happen to count it before she come that night and get his brother so drunk on the cane rum and strip him naked offering to give him the womanly present.”

Izzy cleared his throat uneasily. “Could’a been a little more than ten thousand dollars, my brotheren. I tell you, I count it very quickly ’cause I know it not my money to be touching. Maybe she stole more than ten thousand. That I not so sure about.”

I smiled, seeing it now, understanding Izzy and Clare’s interest. I said, “You’re calling the lady a thief. What I wonder is, why don’t you contact the police? Have her arrested if you’re so sure it was her.”

The reason they hadn’t called the cops was obvious. It was because they planned on stealing the money and the ring for themselves. Not only that, something else was now clear: Izzy had lied to his partner about how much cash there was. Told him there was ten thousand when, apparently, there was nearly twice that. Lied to get a bigger split. But Izzy was staying calm, playing it cool. I listened to him say, “The reason we don’t contact the magistrate, man, it ’cause we care about our island sister. Ransom a good girl. She a hard worker, don’t make no trouble for nobody on the island.” The dazzling golden grin returned. “Man, if’n I knew how beautiful she gonna turn out to be in her old age, I’d taken this woman into my bed years ago. So why should I get her in trouble with the authorities, man? You think I want to see this good woman in jail? That where they sure gonna put her if she choose not to cooperate with us today.”

I said, “That’s very kind of you, Izzy. You, too, Clare.” “Your white gentleman friend, Ransom, he a very reasonable man.”

I said quickly, “I wasn’t finished. Thing is, when your employer died, I’m sure an attorney had to be involved in settling the estate.”

“Oh yes, you exactly right about that. Mr. Benton, he a very wealthy man. Had him two attorneys and they make everything go real smooth. One of them come clear from Nassau.”

“They handled Mr. Benton’s estate.”

“Of course they did. Everything fine and legal.”

“Then they had to know about the missing cash, right? And the missing ring. Which means that the police are going to be after whoever stole it, no matter if you turn them in or not, Izzy. It’s out of your hands.”

Izzy puffed up a little, confident, very pleased with himself. “That where you all wrong, sir. What you don’t know is, Mr. Benton, he a smart man. The way he get the ring and all that money, it his own business. So why should he pay the tax magistrate in Nassau for the fruit of his own labors?” There was the big grin, again. “Understand my meaning? There no official paper record of them things that was stolen. Which is why, if Ransom cooperate, the magistrate got no cause to arrest her.”