Gumbo: A Celebration of African American Writing Part 49

Country Plus lay flat and still on the concrete, like something you could stick a fork into. Mad Dog extended an aiding hand. MD 2020 and Thunderbird followed his lead, but Country Plus slapped their hands away, then raised himself warily, like someone trying to stand up on a rocking boat.

Next time, Country.

Next time.

Good game.

Yeah, Country said. Good game. He studied Jesus with nonforgetting, nonforgiving eyes. Good game. Catch yall later. He turned and led his unit from the court, parading his anger and his wound.

Jesus gave Freeze a high five, palms slapping. Slapped some skin with Keylo and No Face. Memory warm like sweat on his skin, of the Funky Five Corners-John, Lucifer, Spokesman, Ernie, Dallas-celebrating a victory.

You play a strong game, Freeze said. He greeted Jesus with a quick hug.

Yeah, Keylo said. He removed his pilot's cap, exposing a thick wave of greased hair, raised and stiff, a parrot's comb. He turned the cap upside down and dumped out a gallon of sweat. Liked the way you conned them mark n.i.g.g.as, actin like you couldn play at first. He fit the pilot's cap back snugly on his head.

You got it going on like a big fat hard-on.

Jesus said nothing. He wanted more game.

Straight up. Hard.

Ain't no man, woman, or beast can beat me, Jesus said, words warm with his heart's heat.

You got that right.

Word.

You the man.

Aw, Freeze, No Face said. You don't know him from Adam. This n.i.g.g.a can tell some stories.

Stories? What kinda stories?

Like- Like the time he f.u.c.ked yo mamma.

No Face looked at Freeze.

Keylo twisted off the metal cap on a cloudy, missile-shaped forty-ounce bottle of malt liquor. Threw his head back and gulped down the liquid, Adam's apple working. A big booty switched by. Some b.i.t.c.h got a big booty around here.

Keylo, Freeze said, you got no cla.s.s.

Freeze, you know I'm a dog.

Yeah. Sniffin a b.i.t.c.h's a.s.s.

No Face burped some laughs.

Tell one of them stories.

Later for that, Jesus said.

Nawl, tell one.

You really want to hear one?

Straight up.

Word.

All ears.

Awight. Why not? Once upon a time, this n.i.g.g.a went to this b.i.t.c.h's house. Her daddy come to the do. The n.i.g.g.a be like, I come to see your daughter Sally. The father let him in. Sally roll into the room.

Roll? Keylo hunkered down to listen.

Yeah, in a wheelchair. See, she ain't have no legs. Got nubs up to here. Jesus put the edges of his hands at the knees.

d.a.m.n. Head bent in listening.

Check it.

And she ain't have no arms. Nubs. Right here. Jesus put the edge of his hand at his elbow.

s.h.i.+t.

What kind of b.i.t.c.h . . .

And she had this special wheelchair and all she had to do was throw her hips like this. Jesus demonstrated.

Oh, I see. One of them. Big-booty b.i.t.c.h.

Mad back.

Word.

Lumpin.

So the father say, Yall gon out in the backyard and talk. So the n.i.g.g.a and the crippled b.i.t.c.h go out. So he start kickin it to her. And she get hot, but she ain't never been f.u.c.ked before. How you gon f.u.c.k a b.i.t.c.h with nubs? So the n.i.g.g.a see this clothesline stretched across the backyard. He gets an idea. He grabs two clothespins, then he takes the b.i.t.c.h out of the chair and pins one nub arm to the line, then pins the other nub arm to the line. He props an old wood barrel under her b.u.t.t. Then he b.u.mp her from the back.

d.a.m.n!

Word!

b.u.mped that crippled b.i.t.c.h!

After he nut, he zip up his pants. Then he be like, See ya. Her father come out and find her three hours later. Pinned to the clothesline.

Laughter bounces around the court. Jesus is deep into it too, rejoicing from the gut.

And he left her like that?

Word.

Cold-blooded.

Hanging on the clothesline.

Word.

Heart.

But, n.i.g.g.a-Keylo shoved No Face's head back-that wasn't no joke.

You don't know me from Adam. I ain't said nothing bout no joke. I said a lie.

b.i.t.c.h, stop lyin. Keylo stuck a big eyedropper into the forty and suctioned up liquid into the tube. When the dropper was full, he craned back his head, poked the dropper in his mouth, and squeezed liquid from the flooded ball at the dropper's end.

Funny story, Freeze said. He took Jesus's shoulders into the circle of his arm. Jesus saw that his own feet were no longer touching the ground. He bobbed in the air, bobbed in the circle of Freeze's sweat-warm arm. He could stay here, forever, and hang. Hang. Freeze released his shoulders. Anchorless now, Jesus concentrated, concentrated so as not to float away. Freeze walked a few steps, then turned to Jesus's trailing eyes. Keylo, he said, go to the sto fo me.

d.a.m.n, Freeze. I wanna check out another one of them jokes. Lies. Stories.

Me, too, No Face said.

Gon on, Jesus. Bust another one.

Yeah. Bust another one.

Stop repeatin' after me, b.i.t.c.h.

Keylo, go to the sto fo me. Buy me a . . . he nodded at Keylo's forty.

What about them stories?

Later for that.

Come on, Freeze.

Keylo.

d.a.m.n. Keylo tail-wagged off to the store-no, walking like an antelope, lifting hoof from knee.

And buy Jesus one, too.

No, thanks, Jesus said. I'm straight. He fluttered his feathers.

No Face, go with him. Make sure he don't get lost.

Aw, Freeze. But I wanna hear- No Face.

d.a.m.n. Hey, Keylo, wait up. No Face trotted off. Jesus watched him grow smaller and disappear.

A pigeon skimmed the earth in flight, then headed toward the sky, and the sky breathed it in.

Freeze worked his arms through his T-s.h.i.+rt, and covered his bare chest and back. Pulled a pack of cigarettes from his back pants pocket. Shook the pack until one cigarette eased its length, extended, like a radio antenna. Want a square?

No, Jesus said. I quit smokin'.

Wish I could quit. Freeze pulled the antenna from the pack, tapped it against the back of his hand, then stuck it in his mouth. Using his thumbnail, he flamed a match. Where yo daddy?

What? Jesus said.

I said, where yo daddy?

My daddy? Jesus stood in a ma.s.s of tobacco smoke.

Yeah.

Jesus breathed in the silence. You don't know me.

Freeze watched the lit cigarette end. Where yo daddy?

Hey, you don't know me. Why you askin bout my daddy?

We got something to settle.

You must mean somebody else. He don't even know you.

He stole a bird from me.

Sound strikes what skin is meant to s.h.i.+eld. Jesus wobbles. What?

He stole a bird from me.

A trapdoor shuts inside Jesus's chest. A bird?

Yes.

My daddy? Jesus fingers his chest, points to his heart.

Yeah. His name John, ain't it?

Nawl.

His name ain't John?

Yeah.

John ain't yo father?