Ishmael Reed - The Last Days of Louisiana Red

“What about Minnie, my sister?”

“We’ve taken care of her. She didn’t make a big fuss about the committee’s decision, but you never can tell. She was my protégé and she got out of hand. She and her Dahomeyan Athletes.”

“When do you want me to return, Max?”

“As soon as possible. We have a chartered plane on stand-by in case you would come.”

“Pretty sure of yourself, huh, Max?”

“Not at all, Street. I know you, Street, know you better than maybe you know yourself. You started out in the thirties and got Bigger and Bigger, but you were on our minds and in our souls a long long time before that. We knew you’d come.”

“Huh?”

“It’s that book I’m working on. The critical work on Native Son . Can’t get it off my mind.” What’s a nigger doing with a villa like this? A French chef. While back home his people are starving. Why, I don’t even have a home as good as this. Thick carpets. Probably lies about all day smoking pot and getting laid. Just the kind I need for psychological scab service to strike LaBas and Wolf. He’ll do for the assignment, though. Then I can really retire. My baby and me .

LaBas and Wolf are seated on a sofa sipping some white rum as they watch the flat TV screen on which Street is being interviewed.

“Look at him running off at the mouth. He’s become a media event.”

“What do you suppose led to a reconciliation between him and the authorities of the Moochers, Pop? I thought they’d put out an alert on him — that he was to be killed on sight. Now he’s returned.”

“He’s been brought here to stop us. That’s for sure, Wolf. As if Minnie wasn’t enough. Another one of our convoys was ambushed by her Moochers the other night. I tried to get the politicians in this town to do something about her terrorist activities against the Business, but they’re suspicious of me because I’m from the east. The fear of the stranger. Vestiges of the American dark ages co-existing with nowadays when people are constantly shifting about. Next time she starts something we’ll have to invoke one of our ancient company.”

“I hope not. The last time you called one up and had him touch someone, the man implored you to take it off of him. It was pitiful seeing him just pine away like that after he’d been picked by one of the ancient company.”

“I had thought at one time of giving it up, but you need it, Wolf, really, just a little seasoning of Louisiana Red. I used to think that love was all that you needed, but anyone who believes that doesn’t stand a chance in this world. I just want to flip her about a little. I don’t think I’ll have to call up the leader of the ancient company. The mutilator, the Killer Dealer. I just want one of the Board to send a messenger to give me a briefing on how to proceed; I don’t want to harm Street or Minnie, and so maybe they have some ideas the messenger can reveal to me. They only give counsel when summoned, not desiring to invervene; like the good Board of Directors they are under the watchful eye of the Chairman of us all.”

“There seems to be some kind of conflict broken out between Moochers and Street’s people now that Street has returned, Pop. The attacks by Street’s gangs on Moochers have increased. One remarked that although Minnie wants to be Joan of Arc, she’ll probably play Hamlet till the end.”

They chuckle.

Chorus: You know, people will go through many roundabout ways to get what they want. Antigone was that way. Creon had it right when he said that Antigone worshipped one God and that was Hades. She was a monotheist with a twist; she wanted to make it with Death. Creon saw through her rhetoric, her passionate appeals, her attempts to impose mob rule on Thebes. I mean, if she was so interested in Polynices’ welfare, why didn’t she go and stop him when he started back to Thebes with his seven? Oh, there’s that half-hearted attempt to stop him when Polynices went to Colonus seeking information on the whereabouts of his father’s gravesite, but Antigone’s insincerity is obvious in this scene. I mean, she wasn’t as passionate about saving him as she was about burying him. Why didn’t she try to bring Eteocles and Polynices together to settle their differences? No, she wanted the whole family dead. She wanted them to be the first family of Hades with herself as queen. I’m sure that if she had survived the others, a jury would have acquitted her of the deed. She would have talked her way out of it. She was extremely good with words and could argue a man to a standstill.

Ursinely, Street lies on a sofa, picking his teeth, in a home the Moochers have rented for him and his Argivians on Berkeley’s Grizzly Peak. Not far from the house lies Tilden Park, named after the blind sculptor, where there once was located a detention camp for the Japanese-Americans. On Sundays, for recreation, the citizens of the Berkeley 1940s used to go and leer at the Japanese-American captives.

Through Street’s window can be seen a sweeping view of the Gateway to the Pacific. Somebody rings the doorbell. Street’s aide enters the room, followed by the Seven.

“Hey man, it’s your sister, Minnie, with some rough-looking broads who look like they want to rumble. What should we do?”

“What does she want?”

“She didn’t say. She said she wanted to talk to you. The Argivians and that Dahomeyan Softball Team are eyeballing each other. It’s real tense.”

“Show the bitch in,” Street says.

Minnie enters as the Argivians exit, giving her the once-over. She is wearing boots, tight pants, a jacket made of rabbit with natural fox trim.

Street, not looking up: “What do you want?”

“I’d rather not talk with people present, Street.” A girl rises and leaves the room. All she had on was a mink jacket and earphones with which she was listening to a record.

“Sit down.”

“No, Street, I’d rather stand.”

“I’d rather stand (mimics). Knowing you, you’d probably want to sit down but only stand because I asked you to sit down — a man asked you to sit down. You want to defy me like you did Dad. Why did you hassle him all the time? What was bugging you?”

“Let’s forget about our differences, dear Brother. We come from the same womb, have shared the same experiences. I have come in peace.”

“Aw, Minnie, this is not one of those Moochers who carries a handbag after the Italian style. You don’t see me wearing grannie glasses like those punks who follow you around. You could never come to a man in peace.”

“I’ve changed, Street. The Moochers have opened my eyes. I don’t regret that you’ve taken over the leadership. I plan to follow you.”

“Then why don’t you get rid of those scurry skuzzy skanks who follow you around? Our Argivians are enough muscle for the Moochers. Let them make themselves useful. Mimeographing my speeches, licking stamps, fixing drinks, giving massages, cooking our dinner, giving up some drawers.”

“Street!”

“That’s right, giving up some PUSSY. Lying down like a woman and letting the cream flow down her legs.”

“Street.” She holds a hand to her lips as if to keep sickness from slipping through her fingers.

“Ha. Ha …” Street doubles over with glee. “You’re my sister, all right. Scared to get fucked. Scared to do anything. Trembling. Whatever gave you the right to think you could lead a man!”

“I’m qualified …”

“Qualified. Qualified for what? To talk theory. Talking a lot of shit. You sound stupid. You know what people call you behind your back? THE YELLOW STELLA DALLAS. You better try and get you some dick and take your mind off of this bullshit.”