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Authors: Barbara Parker
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longer."
There was a soft knock on the door, then Miriam came in with a styrofoam cup. She set it down on a napkin, along with a blue packet and a stir stick.
"Thanks a lot," he said.
Behind his back, Miriam raised her eyebrows at Gail before she pulled the door closed.
Jimmy Panther poured the sweetener in, then dropped the corner he had torn off inside the little bag, and folded it neatly. His hands were heavy with calluses and nicked with scars.
Gail rocked back and forth in her chair.
"Anyway," he said. "Why I'm here. I called your mother yesterday and she said I should talk to you."
"Mr. Panther. Before you even ask. If this is about a contribution in Renee's name—"
"No." He looked surprised. "No, it's not. Renee had something of mine and I need to get it back."
"Oh?"
"I lent Renee this mask my grandmother made." "A mask?"
"Right. Made out of clay."
"By the same grandmother who made the beads?"
"Yes. She had a kiln outside in the chickee. Used to make ashtrays and ceramic alligators and stuff for the tourists." Jimmy paused, then said, "Renee liked the mask, so I let her borrow it. It's in the shape of a deer head." He spread his hands about eight inches apart. "About so tall. Reddish color. It has lines carved around the eyes, big ears. You might have seen it at her apartment."
Renee had owned a condominium in Coconut Grove on a shady street where the buildings were half hidden behind oaks and banyan trees. Gail had been there only once, to find something for Renee to wear in her casket.
"No," Gail said. "I don't remember anything like that. But I could have missed it."
"Your mother said you hadn't cleared Renee's things out yet. I could meet you over there." He blew across the surface of the tea, then took a swallow.
"Well, I doubt that I'll be going again personally," Gail said. "Forgive me for asking, but do you have some proof it's yours?"
"Only what I tell you." Jimmy Panther's eyes showed no readable emotion. He said, "My grandmother is dead now, and I don't have much of hers left."
Gail continued to look at him.
Panther said, "Irene told me she didn't mind if I looked around, but I should talk to you first."
"She said that?"
"Yes." He smiled. "I told her it's like a piece of the old woman's spirit is wandering, and needs to come back home. And anyway, Renee promised to bring the mask back to me last week. Then this happened." He drank his tea.
Gail pushed a lock of hair behind her ear, glancing away to hide her annoyance. She had no reason not to give Jimmy Panther the deer mask. Maybe his grandmother had made it.
"Why did you lend it to Renee?"
"She thought Indian masks might go good in the shops in the Grove, so she took it around to a few places, like a sample. We don't have many ways to make money, except with our hands." Jimmy Panther paused. "I'm telling you this in confidence. I don't want the idea to get out."
"I won't tell a soul, trust me." After a moment, Gail nodded. "All right. As far as I know, my mother is going over to Renee's condo next weekend. I might go along, I'm not sure. Either way, we'll look for the mask."
"I appreciate it."
"Please do one thing, though. Call me if you have any further questions. My mother shouldn't be disturbed."
He put his empty cup on the window ledge, then pulled a piece of paper out of his shirt pocket and gave it to her. "You can leave a message at this number. It's the gift shop where I park the boat."
Gail walked Jimmy Panther to the corridor, and Miriam took him back to the lobby.
The Indians had a few tourist shops along the two-lane highway, but Gail didn't know what they did to earn a living. She had seen the trailers and shabby concrete block houses on the Tarmami Trail—U.S. 41—near the Miccosukee Reservation. Further east, toward the city, at the intersection of Krome Avenue, in the middle of a flat nowhere, the tribe had leased out some land for a bingo hall, a building as big as a football field. Gail had been
There was a soft knock on the door, then Miriam came in with a styrofoam cup. She set it down on a napkin, along with a blue packet and a stir stick.
"Thanks a lot," he said.
Behind his back, Miriam raised her eyebrows at Gail before she pulled the door closed.
Jimmy Panther poured the sweetener in, then dropped the corner he had torn off inside the little bag, and folded it neatly. His hands were heavy with calluses and nicked with scars.
Gail rocked back and forth in her chair.
"Anyway," he said. "Why I'm here. I called your mother yesterday and she said I should talk to you."
"Mr. Panther. Before you even ask. If this is about a contribution in Renee's name—"
"No." He looked surprised. "No, it's not. Renee had something of mine and I need to get it back."
"Oh?"
"I lent Renee this mask my grandmother made." "A mask?"
"Right. Made out of clay."
"By the same grandmother who made the beads?"
"Yes. She had a kiln outside in the chickee. Used to make ashtrays and ceramic alligators and stuff for the tourists." Jimmy paused, then said, "Renee liked the mask, so I let her borrow it. It's in the shape of a deer head." He spread his hands about eight inches apart. "About so tall. Reddish color. It has lines carved around the eyes, big ears. You might have seen it at her apartment."
Renee had owned a condominium in Coconut Grove on a shady street where the buildings were half hidden behind oaks and banyan trees. Gail had been there only once, to find something for Renee to wear in her casket.
"No," Gail said. "I don't remember anything like that. But I could have missed it."
"Your mother said you hadn't cleared Renee's things out yet. I could meet you over there." He blew across the surface of the tea, then took a swallow.
"Well, I doubt that I'll be going again personally," Gail said. "Forgive me for asking, but do you have some proof it's yours?"
"Only what I tell you." Jimmy Panther's eyes showed no readable emotion. He said, "My grandmother is dead now, and I don't have much of hers left."
Gail continued to look at him.
Panther said, "Irene told me she didn't mind if I looked around, but I should talk to you first."
"She said that?"
"Yes." He smiled. "I told her it's like a piece of the old woman's spirit is wandering, and needs to come back home. And anyway, Renee promised to bring the mask back to me last week. Then this happened." He drank his tea.
Gail pushed a lock of hair behind her ear, glancing away to hide her annoyance. She had no reason not to give Jimmy Panther the deer mask. Maybe his grandmother had made it.
"Why did you lend it to Renee?"
"She thought Indian masks might go good in the shops in the Grove, so she took it around to a few places, like a sample. We don't have many ways to make money, except with our hands." Jimmy Panther paused. "I'm telling you this in confidence. I don't want the idea to get out."
"I won't tell a soul, trust me." After a moment, Gail nodded. "All right. As far as I know, my mother is going over to Renee's condo next weekend. I might go along, I'm not sure. Either way, we'll look for the mask."
"I appreciate it."
"Please do one thing, though. Call me if you have any further questions. My mother shouldn't be disturbed."
He put his empty cup on the window ledge, then pulled a piece of paper out of his shirt pocket and gave it to her. "You can leave a message at this number. It's the gift shop where I park the boat."
Gail walked Jimmy Panther to the corridor, and Miriam took him back to the lobby.
The Indians had a few tourist shops along the two-lane highway, but Gail didn't know what they did to earn a living. She had seen the trailers and shabby concrete block houses on the Tarmami Trail—U.S. 41—near the Miccosukee Reservation. Further east, toward the city, at the intersection of Krome Avenue, in the middle of a flat nowhere, the tribe had leased out some land for a bingo hall, a building as big as a football field. Gail had been
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