Three Days Before the Shooting ... (176 page)

“For instance, I was late getting enrolled in school because I was unusually big for my age and not very social. And while my foster mother had done her best to teach me good manners long before they let me attend school, when they did it made for all
kinds
of problems. Because while Miss Janey, the dear lady who raised me, knew that I wouldn’t hurt anybody, the other kids’ parents
didn’t
. So that left me open to all kinds of tricks and foolishness in which my own ornery words took part….”

Seeing Cliofus stop abruptly and stare into the crowded audience, Hickman thought,
He’s counting the customers
. Then, resting back in his chair, Cliofus continued in a voice which resonated with an undercurrent of self-amusement.

“Like the time when I was in the third grade and already so big that when I sat at my desk my knees stuck out in the aisles and my head so high that it made the best spit-ball target of anyone in the class. So there I was, when without a word of warning Miss Kindly, our teacher, points at me and says, ‘Cliofus,
whooo
was the faa-thier of our coun-tree?’ Just like that.

“So I said, ‘I don’t know, ma’am,’ because I really didn’t.

“‘You don’t
know?’
she says. ‘Then think a bit, Cliofus.’

“So with all the other kids staring at me like I was a fool I give it a try and say, ‘Miss Kindly, ma’am, is it Him who art in heaven?’

“Well, when Miss Kindly hears that she starts to grin and tries to hide it, but she’s too late because the kids have seen her. And right away all those outlaws like Buster—that’s right, the same Buster, my adopted brother who runs this joint—and Leroy, Tyree, and Tommy Dee are already banging on their desks yelling, ‘Cliofus is a dummy! Cliofus is a
pure
fool!’ And Miss Kindly is looking at me real disgusted. Then she yells, ‘Quiet, class, quiet!’ and starts to frowning so hard that I’m truly confused and embarrassed.

“Then Miss Kindly says, ‘Cliofus, it’s important that you learn the
history
of our country.’ Just like that. And I say, ‘Yes, ma’am.’

“But being confused, and thinking she’s talking about a
Mister
History who was also the father of our country, I say, ‘Yes, ma’am, Miss Kindly, I’d be pleased to meet him, ma’am.’ But even before the words get out of my mouth I know I’m up the creek without a paddle. And
doubly
sure when I hear Jack BooBoo Beau-jack yelling, ‘Hey, y’all, just listen to ole Cliofus! He’s one sho nuff
bad
granny-dodger this mawning!’

“But although I hear him as plain as day by now I’m losing ground to those ornery words so fast that I hear myself saying, ‘But Miss Kindly, do you think Mr. History would have time to be bothered with somebody like me, ma’am?’

“Not that I was being sassy, you understand, but being so big and clumsy I felt I was a living example of what folks meant when they referred to something as being what they called so doggone unnecessary. For after all, folks had been calling me a fool as long as I could remember, so in those days I didn’t know whether I was or wasn’t. And if I was I didn’t know exactly what kind of fool I happened to be. I just figured that I was pretty lucky to be attending school with the rest of the kids. So you see, the words had betrayed me twice over, and now those fiends in the class were really laughing at me. In fact, it was like during a springtime recess near the last day of school and they’d already busted out most of the window lights.

“So when Miss Kindly hears my question she slams a book on her desk and yells, ‘Boy, what do you
mean
!’ I really didn’t know what those words of mine would come up with. Then I could feel pain bursting out in the back of my head and everything around me started rushing away like a fast freight train leaving a tramp. And right in the middle of it all I could hear a voice that sounded exactly
like mine saying, ‘Why, shucks, Miss Kindly, I’m so full of history that even the
dogs
know about it!’ And for a second I thought my words were playing a new mean trick on me. But then I realized that it was really Jack BooBoo Beaujack throwing his voice from the back of the room as a signal to those buddies of his to start raising hell. And ladies and gentlemen, if you think kids these days are unruly you ought to have been there!

“Next thing I know Buster jumps out into the aisle doing a buck-dance and singing,

Well, if at first you
Don’t succeed
Just-a keep on a-sucking
Till you do suck a seed!

And before Miss Kindly can call for order ole Tyree jumps up on his desk and after spreading out his arms like a Cicero or Calhoun he yells, ‘Friends, Romans, and countrywomens, lend me your ears: This here Cliofus is a big ape-sweat with too much
mustard
on his bun!’

“Then he slams his fist in his palm, frowns at me like he’s a judge, and rolls back his lips and shows his teeth like a bad bulldog. And with the other kids yelling and acting up it was truly confusing.

“Because in those days an ape-sweat was what the kids called a certain kind of hamburger patty that had bear meat in it. So when outlaws like Tyree were eating hamburgers and didn’t want anybody to beg them for a bite they’d wrinkle their noses and say, ‘Hey, man, this damn ape-sweat is
terrible
‘ and eat even faster. But now they sounded like an ape-sweat was the nastiest thing they could think of while wrinkling up their noses and the other kids were scraping their fingers at me and yelling,
‘Phew!’
and ‘He ain’t on
my
mama’s table’—which was what they did when they smelled something that stunk like a skunk.

“Then Boo-Jack yells, ‘Tell us some more, Tyree,’ and Tyree flaps his arms and struts in a circle and starts pecking his head back and forth like a rooster. Then he frowns like a judge and yells, ‘Honored brothers and sisters, and all you grand-mammy dodgers, Cliofus is a rotten goose egg and soft horse-apple!’

“And with that everybody started clapping and yelling, ‘Yaaay! Cliofus ripped it! He ripped it! He really ripped it like
a foool
!’

“Then somebody hits the blackboard with a biscuit soaked in molasses, and a big baked yam misses my head and squashes all over the map of the United States which is hanging beside Miss Kindly’s desk on a stand. That’s right, but with all that insurrection erupting, all Miss Kindly was doing was glaring straight at
me
. The woman didn’t even dodge! Then she yells, ‘Young man, you march right up here and apologize to me and to the rest of the class!’

“But before I could even
move
Boo-Jack spoke up in his natural voice—which
was already as rough as Louis Armstrong’s—and said, ‘Miss Kindly, how come you want Cliofus to apologize? All he’s saying is that he’s chuck fulla
brown
, and that’s a natural fact. You don’t believe him,
sniff him
!’

“And with that the whole class exploded, including those little twin sisters whose mama wrapped their braids in gingham rags so tight that they could barely blink their bright little eyes, while the boys were shooting cap pistols and bouncing blackboard erasers off my head.

“Then Boo-Jack yells, ‘Cli’s a good ole boy, but he’s got no brakes or steering wheel,’ and something slimy hit the back of my head and oozed like a snail down the nape of my neck. And when I turn to see what’s happening a barrage of overripe grapes hits me square in the face.

“Oh, yes! They really had my range and were right on target. And with plenty ammunition, thanks to Boo-Jack supplying his outlaw buddies with a whole crate of over-ripe Concords which he swiped from a nearby produce house. So with me twisting and turning and them firing away I could see my white sweater turning purple right under my eyes. It was like it was being stirred in a big tub of dye and the sight started me to gagging. Because I dearly loved that sweater which Miss Janey knitted with her own dear hands. Then as though that wasn’t enough of a disaster, I could feel one of my spells coming on—which wasn’t helped by the way Miss Kindly was banging away on her desk. Because in spite of my condition I also had my sense of pride, therefore I would rather have
died
than be hit by a spell with all those clowns watching me. So I turned to Miss Kindly and held up my hand the way we were told to do when we needed to be excused. But then my doggone
fingers
turned against me.

“Because instead of opening they clinched and made it look as though I was shaking my fist at Miss Kindly. And right away I could see her face turn a deep gallish green. Then her eyes started to pop, and with everything around me growing dark I had a feeling of falling. Then I was lying in the aisle with everything around me whirling in circles. And as I struggled to get up I could hear Miss Kindly yelling, ‘ORDER! ORDER!’

“Which she sure as hell didn’t get, because by the time Miss Janey got the news and rushed there to get me the kids had smeared paste in my hair, poured ink in my ear, pulled the legs of my drawers out of my stockings, and powdered my face with dust from the blackboard. And when Miss Janey saw my condition she gave the school, the kids, and all the teachers hell!”

And I bet she did
, Hickman thought as he joined in the laughter,
but with a class like that the teacher should have used a baseball bat…
. Then, seeing Cliofus hold up his hands for quiet he leaned forward.

“Ladies and gentlemen,” Cliofus said, “did you hear what just happened to me? Here I start out to tell you about what happened between the words and a visitor I had just the other day, but instead I end up telling you about some classroom monkeyshines that occurred years ago. That’s one of the ways my words take over, which makes me a man full of word who can’t get in a word although
he’s doing the talking. So now from the way a certain distinguished visitor back in the rear has been listening I’d better get back to where I started….”

So he does know I’m here
, Hickman thought, and moved from the bar to a closer position.

“At the time this stranger I was telling you about came up on the porch,” Cliofus said, “I was sitting there—so to speak—batting at the flies around my rocking chair and thinking about our condition out here in this ‘New Jerusalem’—which is Miss Janey’s pet name for our state—and I kept thinking these words of a poet I’d read:

Bring me my bow of burning gold!
Bring me my arrows of desire!
Bring me my spear! O, clouds unfold!
Bring me my chariot of fire….
I will not cease from mental fight,
Nor shall my sword sleep in my hand
.

“So naturally the words had to get into it and came with ‘Till we have Miss Janey’s Jerusalem / In this flat crazy western land.’ … But while the words of the poet were dancing in my mind like gnats around the eyes of a hound dog this fellow came on towards me not saying a word. Then he stopped beside my chair and stood there, just looking at me. And before I knew what was happening those words went after him like he’d asked me a question they didn’t want me to answer. And I mean before I had a chance to say Howdy.

“But like I say, those words didn’t need me. They seemed to’ve been waiting to get out and didn’t give a damn about how they did it. I know now that they’d recognized him long before I did, maybe by smelling him, or hearing him coming from a long way off the way dogs do. But even after they go to working on him I still didn’t know who he was.

“And I should have, just by his standing there looking poker-faced and listening. Which alone should have told me that he was someone who knew something about me. Because with me sitting there weighing over three hundred pounds and talking all disorganized from the words taking over, a true stranger would have listened a second and then backed down those steps and cut out. Wouldn’t even have taken time to tell me good-bye.

“But, no, this fellow was still standing beside me. And what’s more, I could see definitely that he wasn’t an insurance collector or a recruiter for some kind of religion. I was sure of that, because instead of looking like he was getting ready to scare the hell out of me in order to save my soul, whether I wanted it saved or not, or working out a strategy for taking advantage of a fool, his eyes were asking questions. In fact, even though those words were working up such a head of steam that they had me stuttering he’s looking at me as though I was normal.

“Which is another reason I should have recognized him. Because from the
day I first knew him and until he was taken to live somewhere up North he always treated me like I was no different from anyone else. But I swear, apart from those words I didn’t know him from Adam—or Lazarus, which is more like it, since Adam had only one time to die while Lazarus had him at least two.

“So, having said that, I might as well tell you that this fellow had been gone from this town so long that I thought he was dead. But those words knew different and were going after him like he was a long-lost friend suffering from amnesia or the loss of his memory. So when I hear them saying, ‘There was the big one in the union suit’ I just wanted to get out of there and ease my mind by watching me some trains rolling for parts elsewhere.

“But instead of looking surprised at the way those words were going after him this fellow just looks at me with a funny expression in his deep blue eyes. And then as in answer to a question that had never been asked those words took off.

“‘That’s right,’ they said to this stranger. ‘You know, the big one in the union suit. You remember Boo-Jack, the guy who got so worked up by seeing Miss Theda Bara smiling and blinking her great big eyes in a movie that he yelled, ‘Hey, Lawdy Mama’ so loud and urgent that he caused a panic? Boo-Jack, the one who was always as clear and present a danger as you ever would see, and I mean far beyond the faintest
shadow
of a shadow of a doubt….’