“Those poor boys came down from New York City to help’em and then they come up missin’? ‘em white-yainkee-charity people didn’t know any better, I guess. Sent them boys down here to their deaths. Yes they did.”
With an attitude Frankie asked,
“And you knewww one of the F.B.I. guys?”
““No. One of the good lookin’-I’talian-dagos who worked for the F.B.I.”
“Oooh! O.K. Think I understand. But I ain’t never heard ‘bout any dagos in Mississippi.”
““Yeah and you won’t hear about’em either. There’s so many things the Feds do that we’ll never know about.””
“You never told me about this before. I never heard anything about it either.””
It’s 1994, Frankie, Dee and Gus are telling their big secret to the ladies at the beauty shop about what they did to Frankie’s husband in 1975. Dee had just recalled telling Frankie back in 1974 about the Mob boys she met and the FBI, back in the 1950’s when LBJ ordered the “specialists” to assist the FBI in looking for the missing NY students. Frankie didn’t believe her at first, because Dee had never said a word about it and Hazeline (Gus), never gossiped about it. Some things are better left in the past.
““Yeah, well, Hazeline don’t know everything about me, like she thinks she does. Besides that, some things you just need to keep ta’ yourself. Some things in the past are better left in the past.””
““Yeah, you’re right. Woo, this sounds good. Girl, you know I won’t tell no-one.””
““Never have ‘til today, anyway.””
“Aunt Dee, it’s your turn.”
“So, I tell Frankie,”
““Honey, no one would believe ya’ anyway. That’s another reason why I’ve never said anything. Who would believe me?”
“Me!”
“You’re ‘bout the only one. Maybe lil’sister here.” Nodding toward Gus hanging over the front seat.
“Didn’t Kennedy do something about all of that?” Frankie asked. Dee was surprised Frankie would remember.
“Yeah, he sure did. But it was Robert not, JFK”
Then Gus cuts in. “I noticed Aunt Dee was watchin’ the road as if she was in a trance, thinking back. I almost stopped breathing so she could hear’er better.” Everyone laughed.
Dee waved Gus off, thinking back and she continued,
“Yeah, I said something like…
“Well, one of ‘em boys was a white cat from New York City. He was with three young black cats. They were all nice boys. Trying to help people, you know? But they made one little mistake. They went to look at one of the burned down churches alone. Without any local preachers. Black or white. That was the only thiang they did wrong. They went alone. Well, on the way back, they were “arrested” by the poll-lease ‘rat after dark. Then late th’ same night the Hi’ Sheriff released’em from jail, huh, only so they could get caught again by the KKK. Sons’huh’bitches. Those four cats was beat, shot and no-telling what else before they died. Then they buried’em where no one would think to look. If it wasn’t for one of ‘em being white no one would’ve cared what happened to th’ black cats. Hell, they’d still be missing, today.”
“Yeah, they would.” Nodding her head, Frankie agreed with Dee.
All of the other older ladies nodded their heads and said things out loud while looking at the younger women, like,
“Yes Ma’am. “
“Oh, yeah!”
“It was horrible the way they treated black people back then.”
“You’re right, never see real nigger-haters like that no more.”
“Watch your mouth girl.”
“Well, it’s what we used to call them.”
Dee continued…“a few weeks later, the Mississippi governor told their families up North ““they could be in Cuba.”” Robert Kennedy heard about that little comment and it pisssssed him off. Ta’say the least! Everyone knew they weren’t in Cuba! Som’body in Mississippi knew exactly what happened to’em. Kennedy calls the F.B.I., but old-man-Hoover drug his feet and didn’t do a’thaing ‘bout it. He didn’t care how many niggers were killed in the South or anywhere else.
But Robert Kennedy wasn’t the only one watching the news, so Hoover gotta lil’call from Lyndon B. Johnson. President Lyndon B. Johnson. Old Hoover couldn’t get the F.B.I. boys down there fast enough. Dee raised her fingers up for the quotation marks again. ““to see what’ the Hell the K.K.K. has done now””.
Back in the car I took another drag and blew it out and asked Frankie,
““Did you know, LBJ was from Texas?””
‘“Really? I didn’t know that.”” Twelve-year-old Gus thought, yeah, dumb-ass, everyone knows LBJ is from Texas.
““Hell, yeah! He knew all ‘bout th’ K.K.K. ‘Think th’ K.K.K. burned a black neighbor’s barn down when Lyndon was justa’ little fell’r. Th’ K.K.K. stayed there while it burned. Sitting on their horses and watched everyone, makin’ sure no one did a thaing! The President, his daddy and the black neighbors had to stand there in silence and watch it burn to the ground. Couldn’t do a dammed thaing back then! He was a helpless child then, but he wasn’t in 1964. He was the God-dammned President of the United States! Yeah, and he did somethain’ ‘bout that shit.”
“Really? I don’t remember th’ President getting involved.” Tooley said. Then Frankie said, “I didn’t either, but Dee reminded me. He did.”
“yeah, cain’t believe you don’t remember that? The first few days the F.B.I. couldn’t find a thaing. Mostly ‘cause too many county and city workers were car-carryin’ members of th”K.K.K.! The FBI finally realized that “dog didn’t hunt.”
“what does “that dog didn’t hunt mean?” Shelly asked.
Frankie answered, “Honey, first of all, I thought you was raised here. Didn’t your daddy hunt?”
“Yeah, I was raised here, but my daddy wasn’t and he only fishes.”
“Oh, honey, I’m sorry. I took it for granted your daddy was from here. That’s
an old timer’s saying. Like when you buy a fine huntin’ dog and take him out to the woods to coon hunt. You set him lose and he walks over to the front tire and pees on it. “that dog don’t hunt”. You paid big money for a fine coon dog, he better hunt coons! Means, that’s not true, or not right.”
Everyone started laughed. Then Dee said to all of the younger girls,
“Cain’t believe you young girls. We gonna have ta’ have class one weekend. Damm!
She went on, “we was watchin’ all of the commotion on T.V. one night and the news reporter in town suggested the F.B.I. needed to call Jacque Coutseau!”
“Who is Jacque Cousteau?” Lori, a customer asked.
“He was a great explorer. Mostly the ocean. You girls ain’t never seen one of his National Geographic shows?”
“No, first time I ever heard of him. And why would they need to call an ocean explorer.”
“No, Frankie, I think he had his own show.” Odessa said.
“I thought he was on National Geographic?”
“Maybe, he was. Hell, I don’t remember. Because Honey, the FBI was draining all the ponds and anything that held water within a 50-mile radius. That’s why he said it.”
“Lord! Anyway LBJ, the president of the United States at the time, girls, if you didn’t know, sent some special Navy divers, called Frogmen down, to work with the F.B.I. boys. No one else could help. They could only watch from a distance.”
“Honey, they dove into all the’ ponds, lakes, big round cattle troughs and bathtubs people used to water their horses. Hell, anything that held water! They did find the’ bodies of six other nigger men, who had been “written off” by the local law. You guess it…which was run by the th’ dammed K.K.K. Those poor men were never reported missin’ to anyone outside of the wonderful State of Mississippi. Which also meant, no one looked at all for them ‘cause they already knew where they were, and they weren’t tellin’ no one! Their families didn’t know who else to call. That was the best they dared to do.
I mean, I’d be the same way. Who else could I call, without finding myself layin’ right beside them? The Frogmen didn’t find the cats they were lookin’ for.”
“After a solid month of searching for ‘em, pushin’ rednecks ’round and still findin’ the wrong skelton’s, Johnson decided to quit playing nice and took the velvet gloves off.
See, there’s always a need for necessary evils, you know. And honey it always pays to know people in low places. He gave the nod and th’ Mafia was sent down to Mississippi. Take one to catch one, you know?
Frankie agreed and nodded her head, “Yeah, that’s true.” Everyone in the shop was nodding too, like they were in a trance and listening to a bedtime story.
Gus broke in again, “and Frankie light’s another cigarette up there in the front seat. I thought, “Frankie, you’re a dumb-ass. That poor baby’s gonna come out coughing.”
Everyone laughed. Frankie still standing there today smoking and trying to defend herself, “didn’t smoke as much when I was with child. Besides that, they all came out normal. ‘Little small, but normal.” Everyone giggled, including Frankie.
Dee grinning at Frankie, said, “Glad I ain’t never had to worry ‘bout such thaings. “Cause mine would’ve all come our retarded and pretty. Dammed re-tard-ed but beautiful as angels. You hear me?”
The shop’s roof lifted with laughter.
Dee continues with the story, “Anyway… I was working over in Mississippi then, you know. Now, all of ya’ll remember I ain’t never told no one but Frankie and my only niece Gus this story. All of ya’ hussey’s are pretty dammed special.
Anyway, my dago friend, Rico worked for some guy called the gun. No, the shotgun, maybe it was the rifle? Hell! I don’t remember his dammed nickname. But it had somethin’ ta’do with gun though. They were all from New Jerrrsey. Rico introduced me to him, I met him. You know, I think his real name was Don. Yeah, that was it. ‘Cause sometimes they called him Don. Oh girls, he was a mean looking cat. He had a thick Brammr’-bull neck and wide shoulders to match. Built like a God-dammed bull. Arms and shoulder’s out ta here, so wide and muscled-up legs. Oh-Lordee, he was a good-lookin’ devil. Had a lil’ gray in his jet-black hair, blue eyes. Just gorgeous! One of the prettiest men I have ever laid my eyes on. Honeey, let me tell you, he carried himself like he knew he was totin’ the biggest dick in Mississippi!” Everyone laughed.
Frankie, “Was he?”
“Yep, I think he was, from what Stella said. She was sore for a couple of days.”
Someone let out a cat call, “Hey big boy!”
“Hey, hey! Wait it ain’t what you think.” She was laughing.
Then Tina Joe let out a wild finger whistle!
No, really. Her hands were tired. He didn’t want Stella’s 38 Special. He was a faithful husband. Believe it or not. He wanted his big ole’ neck, shoulders and arms massaged. That’s all.”
All of the giggling and laughing suddenly stopped.
“Well, that ain’t no fun.”
“Yeah, he said he could lie to a priest, steal and kill anyone but he couldn’t cheat on his wife. He talked too much in his sleep when he had a lot on his mind. All she had to do was to ask him and he’d tell her the truth in his sleep. That’s how she found out the first and last time. They had four kids, and he wasn’t about to lose them over no other woman.”
Tina Joe was wiping her eyes when she asked Odessa,
“Ms. Dee, did you ever see the Godfather?”
“Yep, sure did. A couple of times.”
Tina Joe explained, “Don” is another name for Godfather. It’s like a title of honor. Like the Prince. You know, like “your highness” is to a king.”
“Oh Hell! I thought it was Marlon Brando’s name in the movie!”
Everyone started laughing again.
Tina Joe giggled, ”No, no! That’s what the rest of the mob boys called him, Ms. Dee!”
“Well, you do learn something new every day. All these years I thought Brando’s character’s name was Don! Well, the man I’m tellin’ you ‘bout right now, is a real Godfather. We read ‘bout it. Show’em that magazine Frankie.”
“K. Let me dig it out.” Frankie goes to a big walk-in-closet on the other side of the washer and dryer. Everyone could hear her talking to herself…” now what’s that combination again.”
Laughing out loud at Frankie, Dee says,
“Never saw such a confident man before then. Only seen one that confident since then and that’s Moon. Anyway, Don and his boys talked the K.K.K.’s language. With the F.B.I.’s permission, big reputations were made bigger that night. The K.K.K kept everyone here in the South in total fucking fear ove’ ‘hundred and fifty years, but in a few hairy hours they were beggin’ for mercy. Mercy! Tasted their own damn medicine. Yes ma’am! They understood Buckshot’s New Jerrrsy’s accent as clear as they did their own mama’s HUSH! ’em yainkee’s spoke th’ right language that night. Only took’em half th’ night to find out where they hid them cats. That says a lot! Damm-red-necks understood what the Hell was gonna happen to’em if they didn’t spit those poor boys up quick.”
“Fact is,” Dee lowered her voice like someone outside might hear her, “there’s a couple of ‘em walkin’ ‘round without their balls.”
““Let me tell you… they was dammed happy to still be able to walk outta’ there. Th’ mob told’em they cut’em up, one piece at a time, startin’ between th’ legs. One is even missin’ a foot too. That’s the real reason why the’ mafia found out so fast.” She was laughing and coughing at the same time now. “Excuse me. Was gonna cut one thaing off at a time‘til they talked. Yes, Ma’am!”
Dee inhaled deep and blew out, then threw her cigarette out of the window. She turned back around, looked at Frankie and said,
“Found’em on a farm that belonged to one of th’ richest-God-dammed men in Mississippi!”
“Really?”
“Yep! Under the cement of his wife’s brand-new screened-in patio! They said she was madde’ than ah’ wet hen. The F.B.I. boys had to keep her from killing him. She was gonna have to sell everythin’ they had to survive. She was cryin’ and huh’screamin’ at him”
Laughing and coughing again, Odessa.
“Honey, he wanted the F.B.I. to take him away from her and ‘rat now! They did. He went away for a long-long time too. Federal time. With Federal time you serve-every-last minute of your sentence. Don’t get any good-time credit a’tall. That Son o’bitch is probably still there. After the FBI found th’ bodies and went back up north with the Klansmen, Don and his boys made some calls, and some friends highly recommended a visit to our house. Said our place was comfortable and served the best shrimp a’tou’ffee in the South. They stayed with us for a few days.”
Gus breaks’ in, “And Aunt Odessa, over there, looked over at Frankie again and winked, like I wouldn’t understand. I thought, really? You don’t think I know what you’re talking about? I know what Trina Thibodeaux did with the boys in the back of the bus. They had to pay her a whole dollar, back then! I knew what you were talkin’ about.”
Dee smiled, “I was hoping you did. Kinda’ afraid that you didn’t know.” Everybody laughed. Dee went on, “honnnney! Money was everywhere. Brand-new one hundreed dollar bills. I swear they still felt wet. Straight from th’ mint! They stayed with us, you know, to blow off some steam. They enjoyed the charms of some of the most beautiful southern women, including ‘moy and the sweet mysteries of a couple of green-eyed-red-bone women as well. Ironic how life is sometimes, huh? ‘Cause those red-bone women are really high yellow nigger ladies.”
Frankie was nodding at her and lighting up another one in the cabinet door.
“They enjoyed our hospitality. Know what I mean? Life’s a bitch sometimes, you know? But someone has to do the dirty work.”
Everyone laughed. All of the hairdressers were singing cat-calls to Dee.
“Big mama knows what she’s doin’!”
“Sukee, Sukee now!”
“Hoochie mama!”
“show me your go-go boots, baby!”
She just waved them off with a “ya”ll hush now!” Dee got so tickled laughing at them, she started her coughing again. Gus got up and brought Dee a fresh Dr Pepper.
Frankie walked in with the magazine and a cigarette in her mouth. “Here it is. You know, back then I really doubted Dee’s story. But she convinced me otherwise. Then I found this a couple of years ago. Couldn’t believe I accidently found it. I believe her now, for sure.” Sitting the magazine down on to Ms. Tooley’s lap for her to look at.
Frankie remembered that day… “with my cigarette I waved my hand at Dee and I said to her,
“"Girl, I think that was a buncha’ bullshit that man fed you.”
“Dee looked over at me and in a very serious tone she answered,
“"No, it wasn’t. I know when a man’s been in a fight. They’re knuckles are all messed up, cut up, you know? And I’ve seen lots of messed up men in my day. “Honey, Rico’s hands were too swollen and messed up for it to be lies. I asked,
“"They beat’em up good, huh?"
"And more. Fucked’em up bad!” Dee slapped her hand over her mouth, and checked the mirror like a preacher was riding with them.