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She leaned her head back and squinted at Memphis. “You’re gonna be on that train tomorrow, right?”
“There’s no need.”
Theta put a finger to Memphis’s lips. “Those Shadow Men are hunting for you and Isaiah.”
Memphis kissed Theta’s finger and moved it aside. “How ’bout this: If we can’t talk sense to Jake Marlowe at the memorial, I will board that train. Scout’s honor.”
She laughed. “You’re no Scout.”
“You got that right.” Memphis kissed her fully, tasting the chalkiness of her lipstick and not caring. “Hey!” he said, breaking away. “I almost forgot. I sent a poem to the Crisis.”
“You did?”
“Mm-hmm.”
“Aw, Memphis, that’s the berries!”
“I s’pose it seems pretty ridiculous what with everything else going on. Not that important.”
“It is important,” Theta insisted. “It can’t be all catastrophe all the time.”
Memphis smiled, sheepish. He dug into his pocket and pulled out a folded scrap of paper. “I… copied it out for you, if you want to read it. Not that you have to!”
“Try ’n’ stop me.” Theta lifted the folded paper from Memphis’s fingers. She opened it. “‘The Voice of Tomorrow.’ Swell title.” She read the first few lines aloud. “‘America, America, will you listen to the story of you? You bruised mountains, purpled by majesty. You shining seas that refuse to see. You, haunted by ghosts of dreams…’” She read the rest in silence, then looked up into Memphis’s hopeful face. “It’s beautiful, Memphis.”
“You’re beautiful. I just…” He shook his head.
“What?”
“I think about this world. Even without this mess from the King of Crows, it feels broken.” He gestured to the other room. “Everybody else, they defeat evil and get to go back to their lives. But you and me?” His body suddenly felt heavier. “What future do we have?”
Seraphina knocked and entered. “Wanted to talk to the both of you,” she said, closing the door behind her. “I had a visit from Dutch Schultz’s boys today. They said Miss Knight’s husb—” She glanced at Memphis. “They said that Mr. Roy Stoughton is looking for you. He’s joined up with the Klan to help him.”
“He would,” Theta growled.
“The Klan is all over this country, in every state of this union, in every small town and at every church picnic. No matter where you go, some man in a white robe will be looking to return you, like property stolen from its rightful owner. You must both be very careful.” Seraphina reached into her pocket. “I have something for you, Memphis.” In her hand was a simple gold band. “Go on.”
Memphis held up the ring so he could read the inscription inside: To my beloved, Viola. Forever, Marvin. “This is my mother’s wedding ring. She said she lost it. How did you…?”
“She gave it to me. As payment for my services,” Seraphina explained.
Memphis closed the ring tightly in his fist. “You might’ve mentioned that last time I was here.”
Seraphina raised one eyebrow, gave a small shrug. “You don’t get to be Harlem’s number one banker by giving it all away. You and I, we had a quid pro quo, and I didn’t know if I might need more information from you. But it’s better that you have it.” She looked from Memphis to Theta. “At some point, I’m going to need this room back, you know,” she said and shut the door.
Memphis examined the ring as if it, too, were a portal to another world.
“There’s somebody who could help you with that, you know,” Theta said.
“Who?”
“Who? Gloria Swanson, that’s who,” Theta cracked wise. “I’m talking about Evie.”
“Nah. I don’t wanna ask her for a favor.”
“Why not?”
“I’ll feel like I’m in her debt.”
