My vimeo debut. And yes, Amir really did eat my Ken King donut.
Going Home from Amir on Vimeo.
Tuesday, January 29, 2008
Monday, January 28, 2008
Salvation
Salvation
I was just going to school. Ant’won was with me, like usual. We walked along the crumble-y strip of curb right by the highway, past the Dollar Store and the Dunkin’ Donuts. It was hot out and Ant’won was getting on my every last nerve, bragging about how many girls he’d done it with. I know he’s a liar. My guess is he might have done two or three, but that’s it, because Ant’won, he only 14, a year younger than me, and chicken-necked scrawny.
Our route takes us near the railroad tracks and down by the old Cut Rate furniture store. Ant’won was talking about some girl, and how he did her out behind this dumpster that he was pointing at. I was only half paying attention to him when I looked over and there she was. I didn’t know her name but she’s there all the time, a skinny white lady, old, some kinda grandma junkie. The Cut-Rate lot was her spot. She was standing humped over by the fence, smoking a cigarette and talking on her cell.
The guys in school told me she’d do anything cheap. Ant’won was jawing away about all the pussy he had so I decided to call his bluff. I pointed to the lady and said, “how you like a piece of that?” I figured he just tug on his shirt collar and make up some sorry-ass excuse, like we got to be at school in ten minutes and we don’t have time, but damned if he doesn’t say, hell, yeah.
We step around the piles of dog shit and broken glass to where she was. She was still talking on her cell. She looked annoyed, like we was coming over to rile her rather than transact some business. I didn’t have any money, since I gave my cousin Shanisse the last of it that morning so she could buy me some weed. I figure Ant’won had some.
“What you charge?” I asked. She perked up. I saw the needle marks pocked up and down her arm. Her teeth were real messed up and you could see the skin of her head through her scrappy hair. She looked low, about as low as a person can get without just falling off altogether.
“How much you got?” she asked.
“Ten,” I told her. Ant’won nodded, like he could cover it.
“Okay,” she said. She lit a cigarette and took a drag. Her hands was shaking. She coughed, and a nasty glob of something yellow flew out of her mouth and hit the hot pavement. She had on a Yankees T-shirt. The Yankees my team, too, but it’s not like I wanted to talk sports. I just wanted to do her quick and get it done.
I went first. She took us behind a box truck that was just sitting there, without wheels. It hid us from the road. She dropped her jeans. She wasn’t wearing panties. She turned her back to me and planted her hands on the truck, like I was the police or something. I grabbed her tits but they were small and saggy and no use at all. Never mind, I finished fast and zipped up. Ant’won went next, making a big production, taking off the Yankees shirt and unhooking her bra and yanking her jeans all the way down her toothpick legs. He handed me her stuff and I looked at him, like, what the hell, but I took it and turned away. After a while I got kind of curious so I turned back to watch them. Her skinny white ass looked hopeless. You could see her ribs and the bones down the middle of her back when she leaned over for Ant’won to stick himself up inside her. When he was done this big grin came over his face like he the man.
She turned around, her cigarette poking out of her mouth. She tried to get her clothes back, but I pulled them out of her reach, like it was a game. “Okay.” She put her thumb against her fingers. I knew she wanted her cash. “Well?” Her eyes looked sad and flat.
“Well what?” I asked, playing dumb.
“My money. You guys owe me ten bucks apiece.”
“Ten bucks apiece for that?” I pointed at her crotch. Meanness took hold of me but I still meant for us to pay her. Then Ant’won leaned in and whispered in my ear that he was broke.
Now I didn’t want no old crack whore coming round my grandma’s place. I started to feel ashamed for what I did. “Let’s go,” I said to Ant’won. I was still holding her stuff.
“Hey, you fucking assholes. Give me my money.”
Ant’won and I picked up speed. She came after us, screaming. “Give me my clothes, you black pieces of shit.” Her cell started ringing. “Give me my phone,” she hollered, jumping on my back. All she could manage was to knock her cell phone to the ground. Something happened, maybe because she was yelling so loud, or because I had to get to school, or because it was the kind of nasty hot that makes you want to smack someone. Whatever it was, when she bent over the cell to pick it up, my leg flew up and I kicked her hard in the head. She went down with a soft oh sound, and her head cracked against the pavement. Ant’won kept moving.
“Let’s get outta here, Latrell,” he said, and I know I should of kept moving, but hatefulness held me back. I only stopped kicking when I saw the blood on my shoes I thought, Jesus, I thought, what have I done? I grabbed her arms and dragged her under the truck, by the fence. I told myself that she was just knocked out; but I knew. Her head was flat on one side and her neck was bent at a weird angle. She was just laying there, her eyes part-way open, with this big bubble of blood coming out of her mouth. I grabbed her cell and tried to catch up with Ant’won. I’m big and I don’t run fast, so the next time I saw him was in school.
That morning I had a math quiz on fractions. It was pretty easy. I saw Ant’won at lunch but he didn’t come over. He was talking with his friends. They would look at me but when I caught their eyes they turned away. I know he told them about what I did to that lady. I looked down at my shoes. I put my feet under the table and opened my carton of milk. My cousin Shanisse came up and watched me finish my cheeseburger and fries. “You got my weed?” I asked, licking catsup off my finger.
“Soon. Hey, Ant’won telling everyone you killed that ho what stands out there by the Cut Rate.”
“Uh huh,” I said. I didn’t want to talk about it. I took the cell phone out of my back pocket. “Here.”
Shanisse grinned. “Meet me by Popeye’s after school.”
After school, I went to Popeye’s. Shanisse was there. She gave me my stuff and I walked home, past the Cut-Rate. I looked to see if she was still there. She was, a white heap between the chain-link fence and rusty truck. I started to feel bad, like, what was wrong with me that I could do something like that, but then I started to feel angry at Ant’won. I liked that feeling better. I mean, why’d he have to brag about himself like that? That’s what got me going.
I walked in the front door. Grandma wasn’t home. She was at A.M.E. Baptist, where she goes most nights. I hoped Grandma had God’s ear, because I couldn’t get that lady’s eyes out of my head. I lit up a joint, sitting on the toilet by an open window, staring at the apartment building across the street. It was cooler now, and a breeze was blowing. I could hear the lawn mowers and kids laughing and the screech of cars braking at the corner stop sign. The traffic light on the corner caught my interest. It was a pattern, shifting from green to yellow to red. I rested my head against the windowsill and fell asleep.
I woke up to a knock at the door. It was my Aunt Tiana. “Latrell, you in there?” I got up to let her in. All I could think was man, am I hungry.
“Latrell, baby, you in trouble,” she said. “That was Shanisse on the phone. She say it all over the news. That old hooker who stand out by the Cut-Rate, she dead.”
I didn’t say anything, but my aunt was looking at my feet. “Sweet Jesus, your shoes.” She clutched her chest. “Shanisse on her way. What you thinking, giving her a dead person’s cell? Give me them shoes and get your fat ass in the shower. Give me them dirty clothes. Give me all your stuff.” I turned myself over to her direction. A siren wailed in the distance and my heart jumped. I thought about my situation, and I had no idea how to get out under from what I done, but Tiana did. She shoved my clothes and shoes into a green plastic garbage bag, shaking her head side to side. “Your Grandma, she at church right now, praying for you. Why you disrespect her like that? Your poor dead mama, she knew, she be turning in her grave.” She stomped out, and I heard the front door slam. In the shower, I closed my eyes. I wished I could have this day over. I never would have listened to Ant’won and that flat-eyed hooker would be doing some guy for ten bucks right this minute. But life don’t work like that. Family can pull you down, like Ant’won surely did, but family is first to bear you up. I had Tiana to cover my sorry ass and Grandma to bargain for my redemption. Only thing I had to do was stand there and let the water wash me clean.
I was just going to school. Ant’won was with me, like usual. We walked along the crumble-y strip of curb right by the highway, past the Dollar Store and the Dunkin’ Donuts. It was hot out and Ant’won was getting on my every last nerve, bragging about how many girls he’d done it with. I know he’s a liar. My guess is he might have done two or three, but that’s it, because Ant’won, he only 14, a year younger than me, and chicken-necked scrawny.
Our route takes us near the railroad tracks and down by the old Cut Rate furniture store. Ant’won was talking about some girl, and how he did her out behind this dumpster that he was pointing at. I was only half paying attention to him when I looked over and there she was. I didn’t know her name but she’s there all the time, a skinny white lady, old, some kinda grandma junkie. The Cut-Rate lot was her spot. She was standing humped over by the fence, smoking a cigarette and talking on her cell.
The guys in school told me she’d do anything cheap. Ant’won was jawing away about all the pussy he had so I decided to call his bluff. I pointed to the lady and said, “how you like a piece of that?” I figured he just tug on his shirt collar and make up some sorry-ass excuse, like we got to be at school in ten minutes and we don’t have time, but damned if he doesn’t say, hell, yeah.
We step around the piles of dog shit and broken glass to where she was. She was still talking on her cell. She looked annoyed, like we was coming over to rile her rather than transact some business. I didn’t have any money, since I gave my cousin Shanisse the last of it that morning so she could buy me some weed. I figure Ant’won had some.
“What you charge?” I asked. She perked up. I saw the needle marks pocked up and down her arm. Her teeth were real messed up and you could see the skin of her head through her scrappy hair. She looked low, about as low as a person can get without just falling off altogether.
“How much you got?” she asked.
“Ten,” I told her. Ant’won nodded, like he could cover it.
“Okay,” she said. She lit a cigarette and took a drag. Her hands was shaking. She coughed, and a nasty glob of something yellow flew out of her mouth and hit the hot pavement. She had on a Yankees T-shirt. The Yankees my team, too, but it’s not like I wanted to talk sports. I just wanted to do her quick and get it done.
I went first. She took us behind a box truck that was just sitting there, without wheels. It hid us from the road. She dropped her jeans. She wasn’t wearing panties. She turned her back to me and planted her hands on the truck, like I was the police or something. I grabbed her tits but they were small and saggy and no use at all. Never mind, I finished fast and zipped up. Ant’won went next, making a big production, taking off the Yankees shirt and unhooking her bra and yanking her jeans all the way down her toothpick legs. He handed me her stuff and I looked at him, like, what the hell, but I took it and turned away. After a while I got kind of curious so I turned back to watch them. Her skinny white ass looked hopeless. You could see her ribs and the bones down the middle of her back when she leaned over for Ant’won to stick himself up inside her. When he was done this big grin came over his face like he the man.
She turned around, her cigarette poking out of her mouth. She tried to get her clothes back, but I pulled them out of her reach, like it was a game. “Okay.” She put her thumb against her fingers. I knew she wanted her cash. “Well?” Her eyes looked sad and flat.
“Well what?” I asked, playing dumb.
“My money. You guys owe me ten bucks apiece.”
“Ten bucks apiece for that?” I pointed at her crotch. Meanness took hold of me but I still meant for us to pay her. Then Ant’won leaned in and whispered in my ear that he was broke.
Now I didn’t want no old crack whore coming round my grandma’s place. I started to feel ashamed for what I did. “Let’s go,” I said to Ant’won. I was still holding her stuff.
“Hey, you fucking assholes. Give me my money.”
Ant’won and I picked up speed. She came after us, screaming. “Give me my clothes, you black pieces of shit.” Her cell started ringing. “Give me my phone,” she hollered, jumping on my back. All she could manage was to knock her cell phone to the ground. Something happened, maybe because she was yelling so loud, or because I had to get to school, or because it was the kind of nasty hot that makes you want to smack someone. Whatever it was, when she bent over the cell to pick it up, my leg flew up and I kicked her hard in the head. She went down with a soft oh sound, and her head cracked against the pavement. Ant’won kept moving.
“Let’s get outta here, Latrell,” he said, and I know I should of kept moving, but hatefulness held me back. I only stopped kicking when I saw the blood on my shoes I thought, Jesus, I thought, what have I done? I grabbed her arms and dragged her under the truck, by the fence. I told myself that she was just knocked out; but I knew. Her head was flat on one side and her neck was bent at a weird angle. She was just laying there, her eyes part-way open, with this big bubble of blood coming out of her mouth. I grabbed her cell and tried to catch up with Ant’won. I’m big and I don’t run fast, so the next time I saw him was in school.
That morning I had a math quiz on fractions. It was pretty easy. I saw Ant’won at lunch but he didn’t come over. He was talking with his friends. They would look at me but when I caught their eyes they turned away. I know he told them about what I did to that lady. I looked down at my shoes. I put my feet under the table and opened my carton of milk. My cousin Shanisse came up and watched me finish my cheeseburger and fries. “You got my weed?” I asked, licking catsup off my finger.
“Soon. Hey, Ant’won telling everyone you killed that ho what stands out there by the Cut Rate.”
“Uh huh,” I said. I didn’t want to talk about it. I took the cell phone out of my back pocket. “Here.”
Shanisse grinned. “Meet me by Popeye’s after school.”
After school, I went to Popeye’s. Shanisse was there. She gave me my stuff and I walked home, past the Cut-Rate. I looked to see if she was still there. She was, a white heap between the chain-link fence and rusty truck. I started to feel bad, like, what was wrong with me that I could do something like that, but then I started to feel angry at Ant’won. I liked that feeling better. I mean, why’d he have to brag about himself like that? That’s what got me going.
I walked in the front door. Grandma wasn’t home. She was at A.M.E. Baptist, where she goes most nights. I hoped Grandma had God’s ear, because I couldn’t get that lady’s eyes out of my head. I lit up a joint, sitting on the toilet by an open window, staring at the apartment building across the street. It was cooler now, and a breeze was blowing. I could hear the lawn mowers and kids laughing and the screech of cars braking at the corner stop sign. The traffic light on the corner caught my interest. It was a pattern, shifting from green to yellow to red. I rested my head against the windowsill and fell asleep.
I woke up to a knock at the door. It was my Aunt Tiana. “Latrell, you in there?” I got up to let her in. All I could think was man, am I hungry.
“Latrell, baby, you in trouble,” she said. “That was Shanisse on the phone. She say it all over the news. That old hooker who stand out by the Cut-Rate, she dead.”
I didn’t say anything, but my aunt was looking at my feet. “Sweet Jesus, your shoes.” She clutched her chest. “Shanisse on her way. What you thinking, giving her a dead person’s cell? Give me them shoes and get your fat ass in the shower. Give me them dirty clothes. Give me all your stuff.” I turned myself over to her direction. A siren wailed in the distance and my heart jumped. I thought about my situation, and I had no idea how to get out under from what I done, but Tiana did. She shoved my clothes and shoes into a green plastic garbage bag, shaking her head side to side. “Your Grandma, she at church right now, praying for you. Why you disrespect her like that? Your poor dead mama, she knew, she be turning in her grave.” She stomped out, and I heard the front door slam. In the shower, I closed my eyes. I wished I could have this day over. I never would have listened to Ant’won and that flat-eyed hooker would be doing some guy for ten bucks right this minute. But life don’t work like that. Family can pull you down, like Ant’won surely did, but family is first to bear you up. I had Tiana to cover my sorry ass and Grandma to bargain for my redemption. Only thing I had to do was stand there and let the water wash me clean.
Friday, January 25, 2008
Humor
I was talking to my friend Pamela today, and we both agreed that our kids are way funnier than we are. They aren't afraid of going too far, or being misunderstood. Then, and this is our breakthrough thought-they aren't afraid of awkward. My son Jake and his friends from CollegeHumor visited this past weekend, and they are, without exception, brilliantly witty and wonderful. One thing I noticed was that they seemed to seek out awkward. I grew up doing everything in my power to avoid it: the too-long pause, the unintentional foot into mouth insertion. They relish those moments. Excruciatingly awkward. Hideously awkward, unbearably awkward. That's my kind of awkward. Deliciously awkward, that's theirs. Will I ever get there? I kind of doubt it, but it gives me a goal.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
