Read Online Magic City by Jewell Parker Rhodes - Free Book Online Page A

the door, relieved to be out of Gabe’s shack.
    Gabe followed; he picked his way carefully, deciding a split second beforehand where he was going to step. He walked with his hand in his pockets, his fingers closed on his gun.
    Joe paused at a small crest and watched an eagle swoop across the sky.
    Without looking at him, Gabe murmured, “Now if you could make me disappear, I’d buy that. I’d climb in any damn box you want.”
    â€œYeah, that’s the best trick of all. Disappear. Escape. That’s what makes Houdini special. He escapes. He broke out of Murderer’s Row in D.C. He unlocked all the prisoners and then locked them in different cells.”
    â€œYou believe that?”
    â€œIt’s true. He’s an escape artist. Don’t you ever want to escape, Gabe? Houdini does easier tricks, but he’s better when he’s escaping. He can will himself out of any jail. He has the power in his hands, his body. Makes you believe he’s got other kinds of powers too.”
    Gabe looked at him, searchingly.
    â€œHoudini’s trying to reach the dead.”
    â€œWhat?”
    â€œI read about it.” The eagle screeched again.
    Gabe clutched Joe’s shirt. “Three years, Henry’s been dead. Time to let it go, Joe. I loved him. You loved him. Let it go at that. Let him stay dead.”
    How did he explain his dreams? His dread?
    Gabe’s hands dropped to his sides. “The dead don’t come back, Joe. Henry’s not coming back. He wouldn’t want to. Ain’t nothing for a black man in Tulsa. Even when your daddy owns the bank.”
    Gabe fell silent for a moment. He crushed a stone with his boot.
    â€œHe decomposed, Joe,” Gabe said softly. “Three weeks by boat, another by train. Nothing much of Henry was left. Do you see?”
    Joe saw: Henry’s face pockmarked with rot, his skull and cheek bones glimmering white. No, the dead couldn’t come back. Shouldn’t come back .

6
    T he closer Mary got to town, the worse she felt. Sweat pooled on her neck. Her feet hurt. Her narrow skirt made it difficult to walk. Normally she would’ve packed her uniform and changed in town, but her other comfortable clothes belonged to Pa. She worried Mr. Bates would say she wasn’t presentable. Her first day working he’d told her to scrub her nails, buy lipstick. Another girl had complained she smelled manure on Mary’s shoes.
    The road to town followed the Arkansas River. Mary saw dragonflies flitting about in the cattails at the edge of the muddy water. The water, glistening with oil, smelled of rotting leaves. On the opposite bank a herd of cattle had come to drink. Oil rigs, pumping furiously, dotted the field behind the cattle and Mary wondered how long the Andersons would keep ranching, now oil was coming in. She’d heard Mrs. Anderson had bought a dozen silk dresses from Seville’s.
    Mary stepped in a rut; her heel snapped, and she fell backward on the dusty road, the air knocked out of her. Her hand scraped on the rocks. “Damn. Damn all to hell. Damn Dell.”
    Nothing was fair. She was dirty, her skin tacky from Dell’s rutting. Sun chapped her lips and dulled her lipstick. Burrs stuck in her hair. Her lilac perfume couldn’t compete with the road, spotted with manure from horse-drawn wagons and grease from rich men’s Model Ts.
    Mary lay on her back, exhausted, feeling the intense sun. Nothing seemed to matter. She could lie here all day and dry up like an oversized prune. Right now, she wouldn’t mind if Pa or Dell or Jody came along. They’d just pick her off the ground and take her back to a lifetime of barn and kitchen duties. But that wasn’t Pa’s way. He’d wait until she crawled back, desperate. Dell would be too arrogant to come. Jody might want to, but wouldn’t disobey Pa.
    â€œDamn. Damn everything to hell.” Not a soul seemed to be traveling down this