Ishmael Reed - The Last Days of Louisiana Red

“The slave name ‘Old Sam,’ for instance, referred to the devil who was usually associated with gravedigging in slave lore — this was abbreviated from Baron Samedi, Lord of the cemetery; and Aunt Jemima, far from being a stereotype, is an archetype, Yemoja — Queen of the Witches, Queen Bee, so fat with honey she moves ponderously. Breasts as big as inner tubes. Same way with the Business. African ‘Doctoring’ was preserved by special doctors Doc John studied under. They had many healing powers.

“Ed Yellings spent three months down there, taping the followers of Doc John. Marie’s Business by that time was in the hands of people who didn’t have her gifts; had degenerated into a mail-order front for selling dope, jukeboxes. They had abandoned Marie’s old business and were collaborating with criminal elements, and so these people got wind of Ed’s visit to New Orleans and they sent three spies to Berkeley to find out what he was up to. One got into Ed’s inner circle some kind of way. They got to Minnie.”

“Minnie?”

“Minnie can’t help herself. They tried to get Sister and Wolf too, but the children took after their dad. They were psychically self-reliant and resistant to Louisiana Red. They had dismissed Street as a dummy until they found they could use him too.

“Ed used a formula Doc John was working on before his death, and based upon that formula Ed found a cure for cancer. Ed wasn’t that original, but he certainly could put it together. They found out from one of their spies who had access to his papers that his next project was to find a cure for heroin addiction by isolating the spirit of the poppy seed.”

“That’s very interesting. So when Ed set out to find a cure for heroin addiction they got rid of him.”

“Right. If Ed could successfully convince his clients that he was legitimate and the other mail-order house was merely a front, then all of their customers would go to Ed. He would have pulled the wraps off of their junk; the indictments would fly hot and fast.

“Ed was going even beyond the Gumbo pill and into aural healing. He was experimenting with ways of healing people by manipulating their psychic fields. He wanted to put all of the accouterments of the Business into museums under the skillful hands of Businesswomen like Betye Saar. He wanted to close down the operation altogether so that there wouldn’t even be any trace of the Business, that way baffling the industrial spies. He knew that they were about to get some of their contacts in Washington to investigate his Gumbo, having found out that there was more than okra rice and chicken to his plant. His wife, Ruby, who had gone back east to enter politics, was rising fast in the Food and Drug Administration and was eager to cause a scandal. She wanted to get the Food and Drug Administration to investigate Gumbo Works for signs of violations of the law, and so Ed was working rapidly to end Solid Gumbo Works. That’s when they had their spies kill him.”

“Who are the spies?”

“I’m not at liberty to give you their names; besides, knowing you, you wouldn’t be satisfied unless you could solve the case yourself. You rascal, I see you going around with those women half your age. Cutting up.”

“That’s my Business. Anyway, thanks for the leads.”

“There’s more. This Minnie, the one that the New Orleans Louisiana Red Circle got to — leave her alone.”

“She’s become a pest, she needs to be scorched a bit, I’m thinking about touching her. She’s never been touched. That’s what’s wrong with the child.”

“You don’t have to. She’s going to meet up with someone who’s nursing an old grudge against her. A stranger in the sky. You don’t have to do anything but solve the case; leave Minnie to the Chairman of the Board.”

“If you say so.” He paused. “You know, you have to hand it to Marie Laveau.”

“What’s that, LaBas?”

“Well, she had fifteen children, seven of whom died of yellow fever, and so she had to feed all those kids with no man, her husband Jacques having disappeared.”

“I’ll bet I know what happened to him.”

“O, that’s only gossip. She had to hustle, and no matter how crude she was I shall maintain a place for her on my staff. I plan to feed her a bonus from time to time, too. She has brought me some good luck, but instead of calling her the founder, Doctor John shall be the founder of the American Business and she will be second vice-president in charge of wit and hustle.”

“Why not name her first vice-president?”

“I’m keeping that open; you never know what new information we may uncover. Well, I have to get back to the case. I’m glad that Minnie won’t be in the way any more. Are you sure you have the right information about her?”

“LaBas, you know how ultrasonic I am. Have I ever given you a bad lead?”

“No.”

“Well, I have to get back to the halls.”

“LaBas called the waitress and asked for the check. He excused himself and went to the men’s room to wash his hands. When he returned, she had gone; spirited away. She had a habit of disappearing like that. She left a note on the table: “LaBas, you don’t owe me anything for this. Just remember me.” LaBas paid the check and left the restaurant.

He didn’t see T Feeler, who was hiding in a booth next to them. As soon as he saw them come into Harry’s, where he was having a drink, he slid into the booth next to them to eavesdrop.

He would rush to Minnie to tell her everything he had heard.

T Feeler, tensed up and high strung, his “good hair” waving under his beret, fled Harry’s and ran to his bicycle parked in the parking lot. He began pedaling up University Avenue, turned left at Oxford, right at Hearst, and left at Euclid. He traveled up Euclid until he came to Keith, where he turned right to the Yellings’ home. He jumped off the bicycle, ran up the path and through the door out of breath.

“What’s wrong with you, you ol sissified nigger, come in here mess up my flo?” Nanny stood with a mop in her hand, a hand on her hip; she was doing the hall.

“I must see Minnie, quick.”

Minnie, hearing T Feeler’s voice, rushed out from the rear apartment behind whose doors much commotion was going on.

“It’s O.K., Nanny,” Minnie said.

“Well, he should knock next time. He trying so hard to be cute he don’t even think about knocking. He ain’t as cute as he think he is.” Pouting and flashing T a murderous grin, Nanny went upstairs.

“Minnie, they’re after you.”

“Who’s after me, T?” she said, showing him to one of the living room-sofas.

“LaBas and some woman. They were having a drink at Harry’s. They didn’t know I was in the next booth. Anyway, they were talking about you. She told him that a stranger in the sky and out of your past would take care of you, and that this stranger would want to even an old score in which you acted hoggish. I didn’t get much of the conversation, but it seemed they were discussing your father.”

“You came all the way up here to tell me this?”

“But, Minnie …”

“I’m not worried about LaBas any more. Maxwell Kasavubu obtained a lawyer for me. Since Wolf died, they believe they have a good case for giving me the plant. Solid Gumbo Works will be mine, and I’ll make it go public. I’ll put those Workers out, and LaBas will be thrown out too. He’s probably engaged in some last-ditch negotiations to keep me from getting the place.”

“But, Minnie, he has some powers. They say that LaBas and his Workers are nothing to fool with.”

“Quacks. They’re quacks. We found out what they were making down there. Quack industry. Mumbo Jumbo. Now if you’ll excuse me, T, I have to go back and help on the pamphlets we are putting out for the rally on behalf of Kingfish and Andy Brown — the brothers were unjustly busted in the home of one of LaBas’ Workers. The corrupt bushwa is some kind of double agent because he called the police on his own brothers.”