She walked with him to the door and watched him stride to his car.
Flora came over. “What’s wrong, sugar? You’re crying!”
She wiped away her tears. “Parting is sad, even when it is happy.”
Joey came from behind the bar and walked over. “For you,” he said. He handed her the bag.
She opened it and took out the cedar hairbrush. She held it to her nose. “Ah, Carl,” she whispered. “That was not necessary.” On the handle was written, “To Toni, with love. Carl.”
”Tell me all about it,” Flora said after Joey had returned to the bar.
”It was wonderful. He can make a woman feel very good.” Her dark eyes grew thoughtful and introspective. “I could devote my life to a man like him.” Her voice dropped. “I knew a man once. Roger ran a children’s shelter, and I worked with him, caring for the children. He died, and others came to close the shelter. I found places for the children to stay and then I took to the road again, to escape the pain.” Tears brimmed in her dark eyes, and she wiped at them, then raised the hairbrush to her nose and breathed in its spicy aroma.
”If there had been some way I could have joined in Carl’s work, I would have gone with him. But not without being able to share his work. I like to play with a man, but I will not live as any man’s toy.”
She went over to Mr. Pete. “M’sieur, tonight will be my last night here. I will leave in the morning. And thank you, it has been good here.”
That evening, after a few songs, she stood, her dark blue skirt coming just above her knee. “My friends. People have asked me what I am doing here, and I tell them I am visiting America. I have seen many countries in Europe, and of all the countries I have seen, I like America the best. The people are very friendly and the country is so big and so beautiful. So I wander, to see it and to love it. I will be leaving here tomorrow, to see more. But I will always remember this lovely town, and the wonderful people who made me their friend. Thank you.
”And now, a song about my favorite country.”
The last notes of “God Bless America” died away and the room erupted into applause. She looked up, startled, then covered her face with her hand. The applause rolled over her. “Thank you, mes amis. You are too wonderful.
”And now, let us have a party!” She struck up a rollicking chantey with a simple chorus. Soon everyone was singing and clapping. Carried away by the excitement, she did not take her regular breaks but continued singing with only occasional pauses.
Just about ten-thirty, a bearded young man wearing a floppy, black leather hat highlighted by a snakeskin band yelled, “Pass the hat. Let’s get her bus money!” Going from table to table, he waited as people dropped bills into the hat while she continued singing. After the song, he came up to her and held out the hat, filled with bills. “From all of us, to a very special lady. Thanks for all the music.”
She laid down the guitar and took the hat, pulling the money out by handfuls and dropping it onto the bills already in the guitar case. She looked at him, then at the audience. “What can I say? Thank you very, very much. You are the most wonderful audience I have ever had.” She put the empty hat on her head.
He cocked his head to one side. “You look purtier in that old hat than I ever did. I think it likes you. How ‘bout you keep it to remember us by?”
”It is a very pretty hat. Thank you, I would love to have it.” She took his hand and drew him up onto the stage, put her arms around his neck and kissed him; a long, slow kiss while the audience cheered and whistled.
When she finally released the kiss he turned, raising his arms. “Ya-hoo! That’s the best swap I ever made! Now I got something you fellers can only dream about.” She laughed.
”Where you going next?” someone called from the floor.
She chewed her lip and thought. “Now that I have so much money, I think I will take the bus and go see the great swamp, the Everglades. I have never seen a big swamp before.” She turned, picked up her guitar and struck a chord. “This is a song about a swamp.”
#
“Lordy, I am wore plum out. And, sugar, you must be ’bout dead. Is it often like this when you sing?” Flora asked, after the last customer finally left.
”Non. Only rarely does the audience catch fire like they did tonight. It is usually like the first night. Sometimes the magic never comes. It has been good here. I am glad I stopped.” She hugged Flora. “I have enjoyed knowing you, Flora. And you, Joey,” she said. She hugged him as well.
She turned to Pete and held out her hand. “Thank you for giving me a chance, m’sieur.” He took her hand, then reached out and hugged her. She smiled and returned the hug.
* * * *
