Shot in the Heart - Mikal Gilmore [35]
Frank said, “Well, let’s walk down to the park and get acquainted. We’ll wait out here in the hallway while Bessie gets dressed.”
The three of them sat down on a bench in the park. The conversation was awkward at the start. Robert told Frank that he had run away once at age fourteen to find Frank and had been arrested and returned to Fay. Frank didn’t say anything in reply. After a bit, Robert turned to Bessie and said, “You remind me of my girlfriend. You have beautiful hair.” It was more of a compliment than she had ever got out of Frank. Bessie liked Robert right away.
Frank and Robert sat there, trying to get acquainted, but Frank acted like he was bored. As it grew light out, Robert asked Frank if he knew how he could find his mother.
“No,” said Frank, “and I wouldn’t tell you if I did. She was no damn good.”
That was the end of their first visit. It would never be a close relationship. Bessie suspected that Frank was making Robert continue the payment for whatever the boy’s mother had done, eighteen years before.
AFTER THEIR FIRST FEW COMMUNICATIONS, IT WAS APPARENT that some old discomforts still lingered between Frank and Fay. It seemed to Bessie that Frank probably loved his mother a great deal—he spoke of her in the most praising and longing of terms—but when he was actually in Fay’s company, the climate could be tense and chilly. In turn, Fay often taunted her son with her coyness and with ceaseless demands. Also, Bessie noted, when the four of them—Frank and Bessie, Robert and Fay— were together and company would come over, Fay would always introduce Robert as her son, and Frank as simply Frank Gilmore. Fay seemed to save her real fondness for Robert and Bessie. About the only time the guard ever dropped between her and Frank was when the two of them would share a bottle of whiskey. This was something Bessie was learning about Frank: He could drink at great length, and when he did, he was an impressive drunk. He was funny and told colorful stories, and Bessie learned to keep her ears open when Frank and Fay drank together. She heard scandalous tales about show business and circus performers at those times. In particular, she heard a lot about the famous late magician and escape artist Harry Houdini. It was apparent that Fay had known him well—had, in fact, helped him at an early stage of his career—but felt wronged by something he had later done to her. Bessie figured it had something to do with Houdini’s expose of spiritualist charlatans. Whatever it was, Frank shared his mother’s hatred for the dead man. The two of them would get drunk and call Houdini the worst names. It was their strongest bond.
FRANK AND BESSIE HADN’T BEEN MARRIED FOR LONG when Frank announced abruptly one day that he had to go out of town on some business and might be gone for a while. When Bessie asked him where he was going and what the business was, Frank acted too rushed to explain. “I owe a man some work,” was all he would say. “I want you to stay here and take care of Fay.”
That was the first disappearance. Frank had simply packed a bag and was gone within the hour. Later departures would have less forewarning. Here was Bess, five hundred miles from home, looking after a nice but strange old woman whom she barely knew, and who had a penchant for bossing people around. Bessie had too much defiance in her to succumb to somebody else’s royal highness act. The first time Fay gave her a command, Bessie said, “Look, that might work with Frank and Robert, but it doesn’t wash with me. I know you’re in a wheelchair, but that doesn’t make me your servant.” Something about the remark seemed to draw Fay’s respect. After that, the two of them got along fine.
Frank’s absence stretched on for a couple of weeks, and Bessie began to grow concerned. Also, a bit angry. She asked Fay if she knew where Frank had gone and how she might reach him. Fay studied Bessie with her sharp blue eyes as if she were appraising the young woman