Auchentrolly Park Drive

By Marilyn Jones

This is a story of Baltimore in the 1950s. It takes a look at prejudice
in America and within the Black race. It is a tale of love, deception,
secrets, murder and the supernatural.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Xlibris US
• Release date: May 16, 2014
• ISBN: 9781493190973

Marilyn Jones

author will not provide bio

Book preview

Copyright © 2014 by Marilyn Jones.

Library of Congress Control Number:   2014905907

ISBN:      Hardcover           978-1-4931-9098-0

                Softcover            978-1-4931-9099-7

                eBook                  978-1-4931-9097-3

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the copyright owner.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to any actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

Rev. date: 11/18/2014

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Contents

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8

I praise and thank YAHWEH for all

He has done for me.

Marilyn Jones

1

Those who are dead are never gone; they are in the thickening shadows.

African Poem

*     *     *

2003

She rubbed the back of her aching neck and looked around the livingroom. She loved the ivory walls and the new light wood floors. She imagined how nice it all was going to look when she decorated the tall windows with the laced curtains and filled the livingroom with the expensive olive green sofa, love seat, ottoman, and throw pillows when they arrived on Monday.

Now, a good hit would surely come in real handy! Debra sighed and said softly to herself. She was sitting on the floor beside a still-packed big brown box and then thought, grunted, got up, crossed the room, got her brown leather pocketbook from an opened folded chair, and dug deeply into it until she found the lottery ticket she had purchased the day before.

Debra Andrews had actually budgeted pretty well in preparation for the move to this new place; but there were a few last-minute expenses she hadn’t planned on. For instance, of the $2,500 miscellaneous funds she had set aside for the move, the $900 she had to put out for the suddenly-needed repairs of her car put an unexpected dent in her plans. To add to that, Debra had to find a different (and more expensive) moving company at the last minute because she and the first moving company’s supervisor (nasty and bald-headed Mr. Al Western) repelled each other like two negative poles! But no matter what the expenses were, Debra was still very happy to move into her new apartment. And the place was gorgeous!

The entire apartment building had been newly renovated in the past 2 years. A 20-story building that had been built in the 1940’s was now a much-sought-after modern luxury apartment building—full of modern appliances, beautiful floors, lovely windows, safe and sleek elevators, and a completely restored and modernized foundation. Although the building was in the city, the district of its location was now a relatively high-income district. There were surrounding pretty new houses and the very beautiful nearby Auchentrolly Park.

Debra had heard many times that the now good-standing and lovely park on the hill was at one time even more beautiful (many, many years before) and then became very ugly ground. Lots of people used to dump trash there—waste garbage and sometimes even people who were murdered and considered human garbage. In some areas of the park, homeless people used to make camp; and when moving on, they would leave filth and waste behind. In that long ago, trash and stench covered most of the park and decent folk avoided it. And rumor had it that then and including a century before that, deep in the park near the even higher ground where the woods were less dense, sects of witches held ceremonies and rituals where there were animal and human sacrifices (using stolen pets and children of the poor and the homeless); but this was never proven. In the 1960’s, the Mayor of Baltimore declared that he was going to renovate Auchentrolly Park. He created a special city committee to make plans and restore the park—to clean it up and completely rid it of the filth and trash, plant more trees and flowers and grass, restore good health to existing lifeless-looking shrubs and trees, put picnic tables and pavilions here and there, and create a play area for children with swings and sliding boards and jungle toys. He also had the Auchentrolly Park Lake cleaned and restored. A tall and modern iron fence was placed around the lake. The Baltimore City Parks and Recreation Department established contracts with street and highway restoration companies and took care of the restoration and modernizing of the streets surrounding the park and roads through the park. When all was done, there was no hint of the prior horrible park-slum that once existed there.

Debra sat down in another opened folded chair and stared at her television. She hoped that the lady who was now on the TV who was there to pull that night’s lottery numbers from the lottery random-pick machine would pull 3-2-8. (That’s the number Debra played that day because she kept seeing the number on license plates and in various other places.) The lottery lady’s right hand with the perfectly-newly-painted pink-printed fingernails slowly lifted the balls from the random-pick machine. The balls numbered 2-5-9 appeared. Debra grunted with disappointment, looked at the ticket in her right hand again, and balled her lottery ticket up. She stood up from the folded chair and stretched and looked around at the numerous boxes surrounding her that she still had to unpack. The television and the stand it was on were the only things already assembled and standing.

Better get to work, she sighed and said to herself. She took a deep breath and looked around again. Then she tossed the crumbled lottery ticket into a small trashcan in the corner of the livingroom. She walked around to each room of the apartment and imagined how it all would look after everything was in place—the livingroom with the tall windows and gorgeous floors, the 2 bedrooms (her bedroom and the other an office), the pretty bath with the walk-in shower and the round tub, the diningroom that was just large enough for a few guests, and the cute kitchen with the long counter space. And she thought about Charlie and felt a little sad anger. They had broken up again. This was the last time! The 3 strikes marked the end of that game! She was tired of Charlie and his ex-girlfriend. She was tired of his secretive ways!

She returned to the livingroom and chose a box and slid it to the front of the television. Then she knelt down beside it on the floor and tore the duck tape from the top of the box. She thought that if she was lucky and could keep things going at a pretty good pace, she’d be finished unpacking by midnight. However, by 1:10 a.m., she still hadn’t finished unpacking and moving things to different areas of the apartment; and she had four boxes left to unpack. She was exhausted by then. She yawned and stretched and went to the bedroom and went to sleep on her bed’s bare mattress still dressed in her jeans and green working sweater—thinking that she would just take a 20 minute nap.

She awakened nearly 8:00 the next morning and frowned as the sun kissed her hello through her window. She arose and took a long shower. The water felt good on her sore shoulders. Debra rubbed her right shoulder as she remembered the edge of the box that (she had no business carrying alone) injured her there and caused a bruise. After she showered and dried herself, she put her deodorant and lotion on, dressed quickly in underwear, denim shorts, and a tee shirt and decided to get a decaffeinated coffee with cream and sugar and a donut from the apartment building deli. As she combed her short natural hair, she decided that a long walk around the Auchentrolly Lake on that beautiful morning would be a perfect way to start the day. She would finish working in the apartment when she returned. Before she left out of the apartment door, she touched the beautifully framed Shema declaration and prayer (her Grandma Rose had given to her) that Debra had nailed high on the doorpost the night before.

When Debra was downstairs and paid for her coffee and donut and left the apartment building deli, she walked outside and darted between parked cars along Madison Street and then ran across Auchentrolly Park Drive to the gated sidewalk surrounding the lake. Joggers who seemed to almost ignore her passed by her as she started her slow stroll along and around the lake. She ate her chocolate cake donut and drank her coffee. The air was so fresh, the sun morning-bright, and the lake water was clear with only a few birds flying over it. The surrounding park was late-summer green and looked inviting. Everything felt fresh and new.

Debra took her time and strolled and circled the lake. As Debra approached the spot where she had first started her morning stroll, for no apparent reason, she suddenly felt slightly dizzy. Then she stopped walking, rubbed her forehead, and then thought she heard music. It was a slow song. It sounded like a soft, sad jazz song. She looked around. Maybe it was coming from a car passing by; but as cars on the street went by, the sound of the song and the female singer’s voice did not seem to fade away. The song was near but just a little far. Debra looked behind her and then from one side of herself to the other as she slowly started her stroll again. A biker passed by with earplugs in and didn’t hear what Debra was hearing. Where was that music coming from? And then it just stopped. Debra was puzzled and just stood there in deep thought and started walking slowly again. Her cell phone rang. She blinked and grabbed her cell phone from her shorts pocket and saw Charlie’s number shining from the cell phone window. She took a deep disappointing breath and then she pushed the talk button.

Hello, she said.

Good morning, Charlie responded. I see you’re up, out, and about.

"How do you know I’m up, out, and about?" she asked.

Because I’m looking right at you, he replied.

Debra was a little shocked at his response; and she began to look up and down the street for Charlie’s car but didn’t see it. Then she glanced across the street at her apartment building. She saw Charlie standing near the entrance holding what appeared to be a bouquet of flowers. The idea of receiving flowers on such a beautiful morning did not stop her from being upset that Charlie would just come to her new home without asking first or receiving an invitation. Suppose she had invited another guy over to her new place to see her or to help her?

Hello? Charlie said.

Debra clicked off her phone and hurriedly crossed the street between traffic and ran to her building to meet Charlie so she could tell him off. Although he was so fine (even in jeans and an old tee-shirt), she frowned as she approached him. As she got closer, he smiled and took two steps in her direction as he held the huge bouquet of multi-colored roses out to her. The roses were beautiful, but Debra was still angry.

Hey, Charlie said while he displayed his best little-boy grin.

You didn’t call me before you came here, Debra snapped as she purposely showed no interest at all in the roses. Who said you could just come here out of the blue just because you choose to, Charlie? A short middle-aged white lady holding a gray and black kitten and standing nearby seemed to try to hear what Debra was saying to Charlie. So Debra walked into the building (with Charlie following her), walked toward the elevators and then stood facing Charlie in the hall.

You need to not be so dag-on sure of yourself, Debra said as she threw her empty coffee cup