Rum for the Money

TWENTY-FOUR - N E L L I E

"We've got to find this man named Carver."

Felix's mouth twists downwards in displeasure.

"What's the matter?"

He shrugs. "I'll just be happy when this is over."

We continue onwards. We pass farmland and houses become a more common sight. Somebody's dog races along a fence, barking at us.

Felix opens the map of Detroit that Lola gave us, and traces his finger through the wealthier suburbs. Our destination's nestled up nice and cozy along the Detroit River. Canada is just across that river, and in Canada, selling liquor is not only perfectly legal but a very thriving business.

"First hotel we see—let's stop, huh? My treat."

"Well," Felix says, dry, "If you are treating."

And stop we do, just outside of downtown. I park the car without inuring myself or others and we check into a ritzy-looking hotel complete with plush carpets and fancy wall-hangings. I leave Felix to rest on the comfy-looking bed and head out to explore. Detroit resembles Chicago in this part of town. I even venture into a jewelry store and eye an expensive-looking bracelet.

When I return there's nothing left of Felix but a depression on the bed.

"Felix?"

The washroom. Of course. I glance at the door, hear the shower turned on.

Metal squeals and the water shuts off.

I wait my turn and grimace at my reflection in the mirror on the bureau. My make-up looks a sight. I'm shocked that I wasn't turned right out of the store—my mascara has made terrible rings under my eyes and my powder looks like a mask.

I slather cold cream on my face and rub off all the grit. It feels good. Fresh. Like I can scrub my confusion and worries away. Soon, I'll have all the money I need to get everything back on track. The Müllers will have plenty for their rent, and things can go back to normal.

My thoughts come to a screeching halt when Felix steps out of the washroom wearing nothing but a towel wrapped around his waist.

All of a sudden the room seems very, very small. I focus on the delicate little shapes carved into the wood and not on the mirror. At least I try.

When Felix turns and sees me he swears under his breath.

"You scared me," he says, "Why didn't you tell me you were back!" But Felix's arms are crossed and I follow the slope of their reflection up to his disgruntled face.

"Your turn," he says.

I purse my lips and grab my things. I don't want him to see how red my face has probably gotten. Felix shuts the door after me, but not before I see a peppering of raised scars along his back.

An accident?

Could be. Working with machinery can be dangerous—and there was that cave-in, the one that Felix mentioned a while ago. I take my turn washing up and wrap my head in a scarf so nobody will see the state of my hair. I don't want to waste time waving it.

"I know somebody who could help us," Felix says, on our way down to the car.

"Who? You have friends in Detroit?"

Felix hesitates, then nods. I toss him the key as we climb in.

"I stopped here before living with my aunt and uncle. I was a short-term apprentice. Just for a few months."

"And you think this fella could still be here?"

"He's still here."

I didn't know Felix had ever been to Detroit, let alone lived here a while.

"You're quite the world-traveler, aren't you?"

He rolls his eyes and out we go into traffic. East, I realize, away from the sun at our backs. We pass several important looking buildings, the likes of which one might see back in Chicago. We pass several police cars, too and I spare a moment to think of Lester. He's certainly got his hands full if he's involved with Lola. And if she really plans on marrying some cop, certainly her father will have something to say about that.

I check our map as we drive. Felix is taking us closer, and closer to the river. He pulls up alongside a run-down looking shop. The paint on the cream-colored siding is faded, and it appears deserted.

"You're sure this is the place?"

"Yes, I'm sure." Felix opens the door for me.

"Are you sure I shouldn't just stay in here?"

"What kind of husband would I be, leaving my wife in the car?"

I follow, knowing he is right. A boy sitting on an overturned crate looks my way. Then he's off running down the street.

"Something wrong?" Felix asks. He's just rapped on the door.

"No," I say, "Just unfamiliar territory is all."

The door opens before Felix can reply—to a short man with spectacles.

"I'll be damned."

"Hello Sam," Felix says. His hand lands on my shoulder. "I would like for you to meet my wife. Nellie."

"Pleasure," the man murmurs. I shake his hand and he shakes mine so briskly I'm smiling.

"You look like you've done well for yourself," Sam says, peering around the two of us at my car. "That yours?"

Felix nods. The door shuts behind us and I find myself in a beautifully decorated living room.

"What have you been up to?"

"I'm busy with the garage, mostly."

"And your little wife?"

Felix's smile is strained but I doubt Sam notices. He offers us some coffee and tells Felix we're free to look at what he's got in the garage. Felix takes my arm, showing me to a crooked, jerry-rigged door.

Inside is a beautiful roadster painted a rich burgundy. I admire it from a distance while Felix chooses to inspect it a little more personally.

"If I didn't know you better I'd say you loved that car more than me," I say.

"Nonsense," he says, straightening. "What use is a car like this, really?"

"Besides going very, very fast? Don't be coy. I know you're a speed demon."

To give him credit Felix's smile is apologetic. Sam joins us with our coffee; we pull up several stools and I try to ignore the overwhelming perfume of gasoline as I sip.

"You sure your aunt and uncle can't spare you?" Sam asks, "You could do good here. Ford's business is booming."

Ford? I know all about Henry Ford. But I'm not really sure that Felix's talents rested in an assembly line—and surely Sam must know that Felix might not be exactly welcome.

Sam goes on. "You could set up on your own, I'd help you."

Felix shrugs off the praise. "Thanks, Sam. But I'm happy in Chicago."

"And so am I," I say, "Though I don't know if my opinion has much to bear!"

Sam laughs. "Then what brings you back here?"

"Just a road trip with the new car," he says, "I've been teaching Nellie how to drive."

"And you bring her here of all places?"

"Darling," Felix says, suddenly, "Would you mind giving me and Sam a moment in private?"

I'm only halfway done with my coffee. I force a smile. Felix has cornered me into the role of acquiescent wife. It grates on my nerves.

"Of course," I say, but we'll be discussing this later.

As soon as I shut the door behind me I shove my ear against the keyhole.