Bad Boy Brawly Brown (2 page)

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He looked down at my hands.

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“Why?” I asked.

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“I don’t know,” he said. “I just don’t wanna be there. I don’t 20

wanna be there all the time.”

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“You think I like goin’ to work?”

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“You like it enough,” he said. “ ’Cause if you didn’t like it, you’d 23

quit.”

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I could see that he’d made up his mind, that he’d thought about 25

this decision for a long time. He probably had the papers for me to 26

sign under his bed.

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I was about to tell him no, that he’d have to stick out the year at 28

least. But then the phone rang. It was a loud ringer, especially at six-29

thirty in the morning.

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While I limped to the counter Jesus left on silent bare feet.

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“Hello?”

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“Easy?” It was a man’s voice.

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“John? Is that you?”

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“I’m in trouble and I need you to do me a favor,” John said all in 4

a rush. He’d been practicing just like Jesus.

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My heart quickened. The little yellow dog stuck his nose out 6

from under the kitchen cabinet.

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I don’t know if it was an old friend’s voice or the worry in his tone 8

that got to me. But all of a sudden I wasn’t miserable or sad.

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“What you need, John?”

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“Why’ont you come over to the lots, Easy? I wanna look you in 11

the eye when I tell ya what we want.”

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“Oh,” I said, thinking about
we
and the fact that whatever John 13

had to say was too serious to be discussed over the phone. “Sure. As 14

soon as I can make it.”

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I hung up with a giddy feeling running around my gut. I could 16

feel the grin on my lips.

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“Who was that?” Bonnie asked. She was standing at the door to 18

our bedroom, half wrapped in a terry-cloth robe. She was more 19

beautiful than any man could possibly deserve.

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“John.”

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“The bartender?”

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“Do you have to leave today?” I asked.

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“Sorry. But after this trip I’ll have a whole week off.”

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“I can’t wait that long,” I said.

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I gathered her up in my arms and carried her back into the bed-26

room.

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“Easy, what are you doing?”

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I tossed her on the bed and then closed the door to the kitchen.

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I took off my pants and stood over her.

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“Easy, what’s got into you?”

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The look on my face was answer enough for any arguments she 3

might have had about the children or her need for sleep.

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I couldn’t have explained my sudden passion. All I knew was the 5

smell of that woman, her taste and texture on my skin and tongue, 6

was something I had never known before in my life. It was as if I dis-7

covered sex for the first time that morning.

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/ JESUS, FEATHER, BONNIE, AND I
sat down to break-1

fast at nine o’clock. Jesus had made the pancakes from 2

a mix while we were still in bed, proving once more that he was a 3

better son than I deserved.

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“Those pancakes were delicious,” Bonnie said to the boy.

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“I’m dropping out of school,” he replied.

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“Do it hurt if you drop?” Feather asked, and then she giggled.

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I snickered and Bonnie gave me a hard look.

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“When did you decide that?” Bonnie asked.

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“I ’ont know,” he said. “Lately.”

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“Did you know about this, Easy?”

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“He told me this morning.”

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“What do you think?”

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“I think we have to talk about it.”

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Jesus chose that moment to stand up and walk out of the kitchen.

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It was a rare show of anger on his part. I wanted to stop him, make 2

him come back to the table and discuss his education. But I still felt 3

feverish and giddy. I wanted to run from the room, too.

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“Jesus,” Bonnie called. But he pretended not to hear.

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“Juice, wait up,” little Feather screamed. She jumped out of her 6

chair and ran for the door.

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“Feather,” I said.

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She stopped and turned around. She was full-faced but not 9

chubby, with bushy blond hair, light skin, and Negro features. She 10

was another man’s child but I was the only father that she had ever 11

known.

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“Um . . . ah . . . ,” she stammered. “May I be excused?”

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“Go on,” I said, and she was gone.

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Frenchie ran after her. The screen door was already closed but 15

he scratched at it until it bounced open, then ran to find his little-girl 16

master.

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When I looked over at Bonnie I found her gazing at me as if I 18

were some Martian just dropped out of the Twilight Zone.

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“What’s wrong with you, Easy?”

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“He just sprung it on me this morning,” I explained. “And I know 21

Juice. If you tell him no straight out, he won’t do any homework or 22

he might even try to get in trouble so they have to expel him.”

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“So you just let him throw his life away?”

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“I have to talk to him, honey. I have to see what his problem is.

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Maybe we can work something out.”

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I was no longer grinning, but there was a carefree tone in my 27

words.

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“It’s not just Jesus. You’re acting very strange this morning,” Bon-29

nie said.

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“Strange? When’s the last time I made you feel that good?”

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“You never made me feel like that before,” she said. Her dark
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eyes were large and filled with concern. The shape of Bonnie Shay’s 1

face contained the continent of Africa. Those eyes saw in me things 2

that I could barely imagine.

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“Well then, what you complainin’ about?”

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She reached across the table, binding my arms with hers.

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“What’s wrong?” The question gained a lot of weight the second 6

time around.

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“Nuthin’s wrong. I just decided to come back to bed and love my 8

woman — that’s all.” I tried to pull away but she was too strong. “And 9

I know how to deal with my own boy.”

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“What did John want?”

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“I don’t know. Really. He just said that he needed a favor and 12

that I should come on down to his lots. It’s probably just a construc-13

tion thing. I know a lot more about that kinda stuff than John does.”

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“You told me that he’s hardly called you in the last year,” Bonnie 15

said.

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Her grip loosened slightly. I took the advantage to pull away.

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“So?”

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“Isn’t that what you said you used to do?” she asked.

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“What are you talkin’ about?”

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“Favors. Didn’t you say that you used to trade in favors? That be-21

fore you had honest work, you used to help people when they 22

couldn’t go to the authorities?”

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“It ain’t nuthin’ like that here,” I said. “John’s an old friend, that’s 24

all.”

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“What are you doing making love to me three times this morn-26

ing? Why are you just sitting there smiling while your son tells you 27

that he’s dropping out of high school?”

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I heard her questions but they didn’t mean anything to me. If I 29

thought she’d’ve let me, I would have taken her back into the bedS 30

room for number four.

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“I guess the love kinda built up. You know, I been so tired at 2

night.”

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“You’ve been sad, Easy. Sad because of your friend. I don’t care 4

that you need to grieve.”

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That was too much. I stood up, hoping that the air would be 6

cooler above my head. In the few months since Raymond’s death I 7

had come closer to Bonnie than I ever had with a woman. She knew 8

my dreams and property holdings, but I could not talk to her about 9

my impotence — my failure to save Mouse’s life.

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“It’s okay. Nuthin’s wrong. I was just a little confused when I 11

woke up. It just kinda threw me off, that’s all.”

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Bonnie stood up and caressed my face with her fingers, then 13

shook her head slowly and shrugged. It was her way of saying that a 14

fool was his own worst enemy.

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“I’m going to be gone for three or four days,” she said. “Depend-16

ing on the layovers and weather.”

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“Oh. Yeah.”

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“I told you that I’d have to be gone for days at a time now and 19

then,” she said sweetly.

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Bonnie and I hadn’t been together long. She moved in with me 21

only a week after Mouse had died, but already I found myself aimless 22

and unsatisfied when she was away.

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“That’s okay,” I said. “Just don’t forget where home is.”

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“Don’t
you
forget who loves you,” she said.

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/ I DROVE MY NEW USED PONTIAC
with all the win-1

dows down and a Chesterfield cigarette between my 2

lips. Somewhere, way in the back of my mind, there was an alarm 3

going off. It was like the uneasy feeling after a nightmare that you 4

can’t remember. The worry had no picture, so it was more like a sus-5

picion than fear. At the same time I was happy to be driving toward 6

someone else’s troubles. The sensation of delight on top of anxiety 7

made me smile. It was a grin that represented a whole lifetime of 8

laughing at pain.

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J
OHN’S LOTS
were on an unpaved street that hadn’t been prop-12

erly named yet. There was a sign where the street name should 13

have been that read a229-b. John was building six homes, three on ei-S 14

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ther side of the street. He was part of a syndicate put together by Jew-2

elle MacDonald, the girlfriend of my real estate agent, Mofass.

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Mofass had been dying from emphysema for the past few years.

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The doctors gave him three months to live about every six months or 5

so. But Jewelle kept him going and made the few shanty houses he 6

owned into nearly a real estate empire. Jewelle had put together six 7

or seven colored businessmen to invest, along with a downtown real 8

estate firm, in a couple of blocks under construction in Compton.

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John was standing out in front of the first of his houses on the 10

north side of the road. The straw hat, T-shirt, and blue jeans looked 11

wrong on him. John was a night man, a bartender from the time he 12

was sixteen in Texas. He was taller, stronger, and blacker than I, ugly 13

enough to be beautiful and silent as a stone.

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“Hey, John,” I said from the car window. My tires had kicked up 15

a low-riding mist of red and yellow dust.

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“Easy.”

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I got out and nodded at him. That was all the greeting old friends 18

like us needed.

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“Nice-lookin’ frame, anyway,” I said waving at the unfinished 20

wooden structure behind him.

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“It sure is gonna be nice,” he said. “They all comin’ along good.

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Mercury an’ Chapman workin’ out just fine.”

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John gestured and I saw the two men across the street. Chapman 24

was hammering at a beam near the roof of one house while Mercury 25

pushed a wheelbarrow full of debris. Both men were ex-burglars I’d 26

helped out in my old life of doing favors. They used to make their liv-27

ing by tunneling into businesses the night before payday, when the 28