by M.K.Bowes
I had heard a lot of strange urban myth stories, but this one I’m going
to recount was one of the most unusual ones!
The day I had driven into the red stuccos, it was the hottest day on record in New Orleans. The air was crushingly heavy and oppressive. I had the convertible top down, but it didn’t seem to make a difference. When I breathed the thick pollution, it scorched my lungs, and it felt like a heavy press lay upon them; I wanted to scream from lack of oxygen. The pavement under my feet melted beneath my weight, leaving shoe prints in my wake.
For months, I had been driving from Parish to Parish, searching for Old Man Henry, the storyteller, and to hear about a particular tale he had to tell. What I found most interesting about this lore was how the people still believed in it. It was the only part of the Storyville ghetto that had no crime.
When I drove into the area, it looked like any other ghetto to me. Poor black men sitting on their sidewalk steps, smoking, drinking, chatting, and watching their neighbors doing the same thing. The buildings looked beaten down as if the burden of the world sat upon them, and they would crumble at any moment. A few gutted warehouses stood a silent testimony of a once thriving business.
The children scrambled when they saw my car, and I parked it on the street. Old Man Henry looked up with a half smile and a cigar hanging from his slack lips. He must of known who I was because he smiled and motioned me over. He had so many dark wrinkles on his face; I could barely make out the details. The black man sat me down right where the children had been playing on the steps, and didn’t offer me a drink or anything before he began talking in his Louisiana drawl.
"So, you want to know, do you, about the quiet one?" He half laughed, and coughed at the same time, before he gasped. I tried to get comfortable on the hot cement step. I could tell it was going to be a long day, and I didn’t have a hat.
"Not often white folk come around to see ole Henry!” He grinned, "But that's just fine, now I'll tell you what you want to know!"
I was surprised I didn't need to prompt him. He seemed happy telling his stories. I realized I looked out of place sitting in the sun with a suit on, and being the only white man in the area, but I ignored the stares and turned on the tape recorder in my pocket.
"Well, it was a day just like today you know?" Henry began, easing himself back against the building. He motioned his finger around the street.
"Hot,” he nodded. "Just plain hot! So hot it could melt a firecracker!" He wheezed and laughed."Well it was the Smith brothers, you know? The Rumble's gang?"
"The one that died out a few years ago?" I queried. Henry didn't respond to my question, but kept on talking.
"Ole Smitty and his brother were beating up on some boys. Them boys hadn't paid their monthly protection fee, you see? Ole Smitty had his two big, black goons keeping an eye on the look out while him and his brother, Ralph, had these young boys in the alley, and they were going to town on them, yes they were!
"Well, you could hear it roaring a mile away. You know how them hogs sound! And out of nowhere, here comes this here, black motorbike all shiny and new. You could see your face in it; it was polished so nice!
"Riding it was this white boy. Strangest thing, you know? He was clad
in full leather! And on a hot day like today, well you can imagine! Wooeee!” Henry
paused, “But this boy, he didn't seem to notice the heat, not one bit
with that leather of his on! He got off his bike, and you could hear his boots
click on the pavement as he walked! That trenchcoat of his billowing in the
breeze. But you know something? There ain't no breeze blowing that day! Funniest
thing! It was just a damn stagnant day, air just
hanging, ready to strangle someone, yes sir.”
“This boy now, he be all in black, with them black leather pants, and black leather vest, and black shirt. And he’d be wearing those mirrored shades, you know? The kind you can see your face in, but you can't see his eyes. Don't know what that boy be thinking. And the whitish blond hair you've ever seen pulled all back in a severe, tight ponytail. His skin.... snow white like a newborn, like porcelain, real smooth, you hear?"
I nodded as Henry spoke, imaging the scene.
"The ole Smitty goons, Frankie and Johnny, are already antsy, but they just kind of looking at each other. They both dwarfed this white boy in size, and both of them built like bulls. I swear sometimes you could see the smoke blowing from their noses as they get all fired up!” Henry wheezed and chuckled.
“Finally, Frankie, he says, 'Hey man, where the hell do you think your going?'
“That white boy just kept walking like he heard nothing. Walked right by Frankie and Johnny! Well, Frankie, he be getting visions in his head of what ole Smitty would do to him if he didn’t do something, so he pulled a knife, and he tried to stick that white boy. But he might as well have been stabbing at the air because nothing happened! His knife just kept slashing that boy, but nothing happened. No blood, nothing! And that white boy just smiles at Frankie. Instead Frankie gets this chill running up his arm like he just stuck his hand in a freezer, and so he starts screaming...
“Johnny gets so freaked out by what he sees, he don't be touching that white boy, no he don't! Johnny takes a look around and hightails out of dodge, and Frankie, well he ain't too far behind!
"That white boy goes walking right up to ole Smitty and grabs Smitty's arm in midair and then throws him aside like he is a big ragdoll! Before you know it, Ralph is flung aside right next to his brother, that he is." Henry nodded to himself as if he had seen it all happen and was remembering it.
"And that white boy leaned down to make sure them young boys are all right.
“Smitty now, he’s made of some tough stuff! He pulls himself up and pulls a gun on that white boy. He don't be wasting no time as he cocks his weapon and aims. Well, he hit that white boy, but that white boy, he looks up and just stares in ole Smitty's direction. Smitty is unnerved and pumps some more shots into him. That white boy is totally unfazed, and he walks right over to Smitty and lays a hand on Smitty's forehead. Yes sir, he did just that! Smitty cries out and collapses right there in that alley. Now Ralph don't know what to think. Ralph been staring at that white boy taking care of those boys and he be looking at his brother. You could see the wheels just a turning in his mind as fast as they can! Ralph, he finally goes to make sure his brother is ok.”
“That white boy he makes sure those young boys are all right, and they were since he got there right when it happened. He makes sure they be safe before he turns and walks back to that bike of his and takes off!" Henry paused.
I already had a dozen questions, but before I had a chance to ask, Henry started talking again! I found myself squirming around on the hot pavement with the black men across the street looking at me, smiling and talking.
"Well, nobody be seeing that boy for awhile. You can be sure Smitty and his goons don't be talking about that time. Just plum forgot it ever happened. I guess it was a few weeks later, Friday night to be exact, down at Jed’s liquor store on the corner, it be robbed by some black kids. Isn't that something? Black folk stealing from black folk." Henry shook his head and lit another cigar. He puffed on it hard before he continued.
"Anyway.... Them people heard his Harley come right out of the darkness! That white boy pulled up outside of Jed's store, even left the motor running! The damnedest thing too. Don't know what he be thinking in this area, but I guess he didn't think anyone would steal it, and he just walked right into that store without a care in a world. One of the kids, Bobby, he sees this white boy walk into the store and he says, ' Freeze man or I blow you away.'
“That white boy stopped for a second but just kept right on going, you know? Bobby, he decided this guy must of been the cops or something and he jumps the counter and grabs ole Jed, that he did. Jed is scared and looking at this white boy like he is going to get himself killed, and he be reciting the lord's prayer because he can see his final days.”
“That white boy kind of cocked his head to the side and smiled.”
“Bobby, he be pressing his gun into Jed's temple and saying, 'Don't you come any farther man! Or I blow this dude away!'
“That white boy he stopped, and looked around the store. Bobby's sidekick, Diesel, he be hiding behind a shelf watching everything and pointing his gun right at that white boy.
“'Now then.' Bobby says, 'You lay down on that floor, and keep your hands where I can see them!'
“That white boy just be staring in Bobby's direction, but he don't lie down on nobody's floor, no he don't!
“Bobby starts shaking, he be getting angry, and he starts screaming,‘Hey man I'm talking to you! You better listen to what I'm telling you or somebody's going to die here!'
“Jed he be shaking, with sweat rolling down his fat cheeks, and he started begging that white boy to listen to what they are saying. He be telling that white boy about his family and his two daughters and son, and how he wanted to get home that night.
“That white boy just pulled his gloves on a bit tighter and he walked right over to Bobby. Well Bobby, he totally freaks, and pulls the trigger, and wouldn't you know it? The gun jams! Yes it did! Ole Jed I think fainted, right then and there. Bobby drops ole Jed and swings his gun at the white boy.
“Diesel is screaming, 'What do I do, Bobby?'
“Bobby is screaming back at him, 'Shoot him, shoot him!'
“Well, at that same time, Bobby is swinging his gun, that white boy is ducking, and Diesel is firing his gun, and that bullet slams into Bobby's chest, that it did! Bobby he falls onto ole Jed.
“Diesel he starts screaming and hollering, and moves around them shelves to jump at that white boy. That white boy he turns and grabs Diesel in mid-leap by his long dreadlocks, and he whirls Diesel's head around, slamming him into the counter, probably gave that boy a concussion too, and knocks him out!
“Then that white boy checks on ole Jed afterwards to make sure he be fine. Jed wakes up and just smiles at that white boy, yes he did, he just smiled!"
Henry stopped and looked up at the sun blazing down. "You want some lemonade or ice tea?"
"Yes that would be nice," I said. I was thirsty, sitting in the hot sun.
Henry nodded and moved inside. The door banged shut behind him.
I checked my tape and flipped it over. It was the strangest story I had ever heard. Normally urban legends were full of superstitions, or scary monsters to get children to mind their elders, and sometimes stories to repeat around a campfire to scare people, but this one seemed different and I wasn't sure how. I looked up at the house, the paint was peeling and there were grates across the windows. Old flower beds sat vacant,their dried beds parched.
Henry came back out carrying two glasses of ice tea. "This is good stuff,” he said, "it’s old Jezzy’s recipe from up the street, been in her family since she came over."
“Thanks,” I smiled and took the glass.
"Now where was I?” Henry sat back down on the top step. “Oh yeah, you know, it was funny. Them police came by to check out the carnage when ole Jed called it in. Ole Jed he had a video camera in his store and there weren't no pictures of that white boy on it! No there wasn't! Just these boys shooting each other and the one banging his head on the counter!
“Well, ole Jed starts telling everyone about this white boy that saved his life! It wasn't soon after that, when that white boy was thwarting other crimes. People started telling these tales of that white boy showing up all mysterious to save a rape of their daughter, or to stop these drugs from being dealt on the street. Oh it was like a beehive, people talking, and it spreading like a disease! People they be going to church, praying and thanking the lord for sending this here savior, this ghost is what they thought! They be thinking it was some white boy done wrong in the area and he come back to take his revenge! Yup, that is what they thought.
“And you know what else? Ole Smitty, he be getting out of crime. He now organizes the church's youth group, that he does! And he be getting his brother, Ralph and his two goons to help him out! Bobby he be dead, but ole Diesel, he be helping those inmates in jail, some type of counselor. I hear he be getting out on parole real soon on good behavior. Yup, you know, I don't know if those boys suddenly saw the light or some say, they saw the darkness staring back at them.
"But this continued for quite awhile, that it did. People not scared no more. People be walking their streets again, and people be hearing that Harley bike screaming down their streets at night. You can hear it best in the middle of the summer when it's so hot, even the dogs don't be moving around during the day…
“Well, finally the last time they heard about this white boy was from Clarence. Clarence he be an old man, but not that old, mind you. Clarence he lived up in this apartment complex. It was a typical hot day and Clarence had all his windows open. He don't have no air conditioner nor nothing. Clarence's wife she be away working at the laundromat, but Clarence he hasn't worked since he was laid off at the mill.
“Clarence be sitting at home with his daughter, MaryLou. She be eight or something, young thing, and pretty. MaryLou be playing in her bedroom when Clarence be calling for her, 'MaryLou, you come and see your Papa. He be needing you.'
“MaryLou be poking her head out of the room. Even at that age, MaryLou wanted to be a nun. Can you imagine a little girl having dreams of being a nun in this day and age? Well, I guess it’s because of what was happening...real shame that it is.” Henry stopped and stared off into space.
I was wondering what he was looking at, and looked around but I didn't see anything so I waited patiently.
"Clarence he be saying, ‘Come here MaryLou. Papa has something for you to play with.’” Henry looked back at me, and smiled sadly. “‘You want to make Papa happy don't you? Papa will show you how.'
“MaryLou walked slowly out of her room. I'm sure she knew what he wanted, but she minds her manners because she’s a good girl, and he would whoop her good, if she didn’t! MaryLou walked over to her father and her father puts her hand between his legs and makes her feel.
“Well now, Clarence he closes his eyes for a second because it feels so good, and when he opens them, there he be standing, that white boy, staring at him behind those dark shades of his. Clarence he jumped, and he tells MaryLou to go back to her room.
“MaryLou smiled at the white boy before she goes running back to her room and Clarence starts bellowing, 'Who the hell are you? What you be doing in my house?'
“Well, that white boy he not say a word. People wondered if he could even talk, you know?
“Clarence he gets pretty pissed being stared at and not responded to. Clarence screamed even louder, ‘I asked you a question, asshole! How you be getting your white ass in my house?’ Clarence be looking at the ten locks on his door when he asks this. He also looks at his windows, but he knows he is eight floors up with no escape ladders outside.
“That white boy he walks right over to Clarence while Clarence he be huffing and puffing. Clarence jumps out of his chair and tries hitting that white boy. That white boy, he be letting Clarence try and hit him, and he be hurling Clarence around his apartment like he be some toy. Clarence finally goes unconscious, like. When he wakes he finds the police banging on his door. He pulls himself up and goes to the door, 'Don't need no police. ' He be looking around his place but he don't see that white boy.
"Police still be banging on Clarence's door and telling him to open it. Clarence he finally opens the door. He must of looked a mess with blood all on his white shirt and his face bashed and swollen.
“The police took one look at him and pushed their way into his house! They must of saw a sight because of the holes in the walls, lamps broken on the floor, and chairs fallen over. They see MaryLou standing there and think he was beating on her!”
“'What the hell is going on here?' Officer Bryant asks
“'Damn, if I know.' Clarence swears, 'Damn white boy, broke into my place and look at what he done to me!'
“Officer Bryant looks at the other officer. 'And how did he get in?'
“'I don't know how he got in.' Clarence bellows, 'but you got to find this boy who did this to me! He assaulted me!'
“'Do you know what he looked like?' The other officer asks.
“Clarence looks really thoughtful like he was trying to remember. Then he frowns, 'No I can't say that I remember what he looks like.'
“'You expect us to find someone that you don't remember what he looks like?' Officer Bryant says.
“'He be white!' Clarence says, 'How many white boys in this here area? If you get going I'm sure you can find him!'
“'Well, we can't do much if you can't remember what he looks like.' Officer Bryant says, looking like this might be some joke or something. 'You're trying to tell me, this white boy done this to you, and you didn't get a good look at him?'
“Clarence looked dumbfounded. Of course he knew what he looked like! If he could just remember…
“And that be the last time anyone has seen that white boy. Oh he don't need to come around no more, you hear? No need at all, not with ole Smitty making sure things stay straight in this here area." Henry stood up abruptly, and stared into the sky, watching the sun dip below the horizon. He looked a little tired as he crushed his cigar under his torn shoe.
I had a thousand questions I wanted to ask, but I realized when Henry was done, there was no more.
Henry put a hand on his stiff back as he tried to straighten, and I stood up to thank him, but he opened up his door, waving me away like it was no bother.
"Oh one more thing, you know?" Henry said, and turned to look at me.
I stopped at my car, raising an eyebrow in question.
"MaryLou,” Henry drawls, "She had come out of her room when the police showed up, and she had smiled up at them with that pretty smile of hers, and she said to them, 'I saw what he be looking like,’ that she said, you hear?" Henry shook his head, smiling.
I waited for Henry to continue, thinking about the long drive ahead of me to the next town in Tulsa where ghosts have been reported at an old mansion.
"Yup, ole MaryLou be telling those policemen a thing or two, not that they believed her, mind you, but she be telling them he had wings! Yes sir, big, white, and beautiful wings!
“And that he did, I tell you, that he did!" Henry wheezed, and
just laughed. He left me feeling even more stupefied than when I had first
arrived, and left me questioning the unknown.