Alligator by Shelley Katz Page B

money a good deal, enough to make him play the bastard to get it, but he didn't enjoy doing it. "You see, boy, you may think I lend out money on my own but it isn't quite like that. No, sir, I'm merely a representative of big Northern money. I have creditors to account to, and they get a bit itchy about a man whose income looks to be not so steady." Levi hesitated, but there was nothing he could do except press on. "I was wonderin' if you couldn't just pay back the whole sum now and be done with it."
    Lee's stomach, which was already unsteady from the day, lurched from its moorings and sped to his throat. He swallowed hard.
    "That's what I call a generous gesture, Mr. Levi, and don't think I'm not appreciative as hell, but I think, if it's all right with you, I'll just stick to our former arrangement."
    "I don't think you get my point." Levi did his best to avoid looking at Lee. His voice softened. "I'm afraid I ain't got no choice."
    He patted Lee on the back, by way of sympathy, then turned quickly and walked away. When Levi looked back, he could see Lee standing where he had left him, gazing out into traffic.
    "Have I ever told you about the time the President came to one of Daddy's parties?" Lizbeth's thin, wispy, disconnected voice drifted down from the attic window like the faint smell of magnolias. Lee stood in the garden of weeds and looked up at the decaying remains of the once-gracious manor house and the thin white face of his mother, who peered out at him from the top floor.
    The Lancaster house had been, in its time, one of the grandest in all the county. With seven bedrooms, front and back parlors, a porch as wide as an average-size road, it had been the symbol of all that was good about being rich and Southern. But hard times had come to the Lancaster house. Bad business and despair had choked it off, and what little grandeur was left seemed only to mock what remained. The roof and porch of the great house were crumbling, and the paint had chipped so badly that bare wood showed through. Most of the windows were gone, and the few that remained were so shattered it was difficult to see through them.
    Lee put a small package into a wicker basket that was hooked up to an elaborate pulley system along the house and jerked on the rope three times. Lizbeth slowly raised the basket. Lee could see her shriveled little hand snap up the package.
    "Oh, cream cakes," she said, rattling the paper open. "That's nice, dear. Anyway, not to lose my train of thought. The Reverend Albert Johnson was there, as was Mrs. Cambridge Wilson and the Charleses and just about anyone else in the whole county who meant anything. And the house, oh, Lee, honey, it was all lit up like a weddin' cake. You could smell the wisteria for miles around. Which reminds me, I must make sure to order some for tonight. There ain't nothin' like the smell of wisteria to get a tea dance off on the right foot, I always say. Actually ..." Lizbeth stared off into space dreamily. She couldn't quite remember what it was she had wanted to say. Something about the dance, perhaps. She just couldn't remember. Suddenly she noticed Lee. Odd, she thought, she hadn't seen him come, damn him. "What you doin' here, Lee? I ain't comin' down."
    "I know, Ma."
    "And you ain't comin' up here neither." Lee didn't answer. "You hear me, Lee Ferris? It's been ten years now, and I plan to spend the rest of my life up here. So don't get no ideas about tryin' to get me down."
    "I'm lookin' for Aaron," said Lee.
    "What's that?" shouted Lizbeth.
    "Aaron! Aaron, your husband, remember?"
    "Oh, Lee, honey, I'm just a tender young thing, not made for a life of hardship." She sighed deeply, then remembered that Lee was still there. "He's your father, as well as my husband."
    "Ain't nothin' to be proud of."
    "Now don't you speak disrespectfully. At one time, your father was a giant among men. What's that? Do I hear you sniggering? Well, you can just stop it right now. You should have seen him