The store, where you think?
Jesse shrugged, still looking at the bags of gifts, Doan know. Jus aint seen nothin like that.
Come from the other side a town bro—tapping him on the shoulder—I think yuall be digginem.
Spects so….Jesse slowly raised his eyes and looked at Bobby, You aint be sellin no drugs is you?
Hey dude, comeon.
Then where you be gettin the braid for this?
I got me a gig bro, hey man, I aint fuckin with you.
Jesse looked at Bobby for a moment, then shrugged, Spects you cool bro.
Sheeit, aint everybody dealinjess.
Seems so bro, just about. But you sure doan look like you is…looking too good.
Well, not this dude. Anyway, how you be?
I be cool bro. The moms got your card on the dresser in her room.
Yeah?
She dont know I see it but she be lookin at it every onct in a while.
Hey, that be cool. You be gettin mine too?
Yeah, we all gotsem. It be real cool gettin Christmas card in the mail, you dig what I be sayin.
Hey…why ya think I sendem?
Jesse looked at Bobby, shaking his head, frowning, I doan know whats happenin bro. How come you be sendin cards an buyin all these presents and stuff?
Bobby shrugged, I doan know Jess. Frien mine say to do it. I be workin for im.
You livin with this dude?
Yeah. Real fine pad man, far out, righteous
You be comin home soon?
Shrugging, Dont know Jess. Got somethin to straighten out with Raul.
I hear he be one nervous dude—giggling—Say he always lookin over his shoulder.
Should be, muthafucka. But he aint about seein me.
Jesse suddenly straightened and stretched as tall as possible, looking with pride at Bobby, Right on bro. You be whippin his ass afore he know what be happenin.
I be doin more than whippin his ass—the smile suddenly gone, Bobbys eyes clouding over, He be gettin his haid smashed like a muthafuckin melon bro….He be gettin what he give Maria.
The sudden change in Bobbys appearance and voice startled Jesse, actually scaring him for a moment, then he once more stood tall with pride, Right on bro—giving Bobby a high five.
Bobby continued to stare at the wall for a moment, then blinked his eyes and looked at Jesse, You bes be gettin these gifs over home.
Right on, bro—picking up the bags.
An you be goin right home, you dig?
Whach you thinkin I be doin this weather, cruisin aroun the streets—smiling up at Bobby.
Bobby smiled back and punched him lightly on the shoulder.
You be cool, bro.
Bobby continued smiling at Jesse and raised his right fist. He continued to watch Jesses back as he walked rapidly down the street until he was out of sight.
Bobbys mother waited until the youngins were asleep, then sat in the middle of her bed and surrounded herself with the presents, touching each one, gently sliding her fingertips along the ribbons, watching the itty bitty points of light dance around the pretty paper with all those pretty pictures…and she started gently bouncing on the bed feeling like she was clapping her hands and knowing her face was smiling, Oh Lord was it ever smiling so much it be gigglin, she sure nough could hear her face gigglin and see her toes wigglin…wiggle, wiggle, wiggle…and she bounced a really big bounce and laughed out loud then quickly put her hands over her mouth and sat absolutely still for a second, just a teeny weeny second, but her face still smiled and giggled and she jus about ready to go dancin acrost the floor an jus wait till she tell Tillie what her Bobby done gave themall for Christmas…yeah, her Bobby sure enough be a good boy an she remember when he was just a youngin taking the tit and he would snuggle into her with his ittybitty hands and feet all curled up and then he just be working his pretty little head into her neck, right here, and rubbing his face all warm and soft into her cheek and she/d hold him and rock him and he would be all quiet and just sort of gurgle and sometimes his little body would jerk and he would wiggle around like a pussy cat and nuzzle into her even more and she would hum to him, never havin a singing voice which sometimes made her feel a sadness, it seemed like everybody be able to sing but her, least ways black peoples, but she/d hum and he would sort of coo like he was dreaming of something fine…so fine…and she would drift into some nice peaceful feeling almost like she not be having feelings, least ways what she called feelings, something so nice and soft like maybe they both be having the same dream…and sometimes she/d watch him crawl around the floor, going a few feet then stopping and looking up at her and smiling that big silly grin a his, then crawlin some more and she/d laugh and damn if she didnt clap her hands and when he got to where she be she/d pick him up an be huggin him almost to death an hed be laughing that baby laugh, but then squirmed out of her arms so he could be doing some more crawlin and he always be just like a pussy cat crawlin aroun everything, looking under everything, but then they Gauddamn roaches be crawlin around with him and she/d have to pick him up and hed cry and try to get back on the floor like he wanted to play with them ugly little things, but it was the muthafuckin rats that just ruined everything, looking at her Bobby from the corner and she knew they be thinking how theyd like to bite him and rip him apart, and she scream at the evil muthafuckas and chase them away from her Bobby with a broom, and then hed start crying and screaming til she almost be hittin him with the broom, and she had to stand guard over her boy an try to keep him off the floor, but he all the time wantin to be crawlin aroun, and when she pick him up an putim in his crib hed scream until she screamed, and she/d hang over his crib screaming at him to shut up and he screamed louder and she screamed louder and she knew those nasty muthafuckin rats were always waiting and then Jesse come along some time later then Sissy then Billy and how she goin to keep them rats away and all day they be screaming and she be screaming and she saw Tillies youngun after a rat done bit out half its cheek and she be wantin to strangle them damn kids to shutem up and little Bobby on the tit and nuzzlin in her neck was not even a memory but what could she be doin…what could she be doin with no man aroun to keep things straight, just her an the screaming kids and those Gauddamn rats an some fool be tellin her to pray to Jesus an she be tellin him to have Jesus come an take care of the rats an slammed the door in his nigga face, but whats a body to do…but he was a cute little baby, the first born, very first, and she nothin but a kid her ownself, but she be taking good care of him, and they be doin jus fine…for a while…yeah, they be doin jus fine…but I sure do worry about my boy bein out on those streets an what happen to him even if he be livin with some ol man who be fine. Jesse say Bobby come home soons he gets things straighten with the boys what hurt his gurl frien, Oh Lord my boy not be needin any more trouble, but aint no reason he be wantin to come back here, but he a good boy, my boy, a real fine boy an his eyes be lookin just like they did when he was just a itty bitty baby and he be havin the same grin…he be changin…he be Bobby, but he be different, but that same itty bitty baby grin be on his face an he be lovin his momma, yeah, he be lovin his momma…he be a good boy my Bobby…he not be havin a mean bone in his body…no, aint no meanness in my boy…no way, no meanness an Bobby be lovin her, she knew that, the muthafuckin rats caint be doin nothin to stop that, no way…her Bobby be lovin his momma…seems like anyways….
After Jesse left Bobby continued to stare through the glass of the door for many minutes, then turned and started to go slowly up the stairs to the roof. He sat behind the ledge, out of the wind, allowing the cold air to clear his head, thinking about how happy he was coming over here, how excited Jesse was to see him, and all the gifts, and how they dug each other an tellin him about moms keepin his card, an how he felt thinking how excited everyone would be when they saw all the presents, and how they would be screechin and yellin as they ripped the paper off, feeling the way he felt tearing open Moishes gifts, and then watching him open his, and the
tree and all that…all that stuff….
and then he started thinking about Maria and how she would have been excited too about Christmas, but she wasnt opening any presents. Even that drunk puking his ass off may be opening a present, at least he/ll be opening another bottle sooner or later, and that muthafucka Raul will be openin gifts and sittin around a tree or something with his family and theyll be laughin and yellin, tearin paper and boxes and that muthafuckas goin to get something he wants, somethin hed be hoping for and is goin to hoot his ass off just like nothing ever happened, just like he didnt have anything to do with Maria being dead, like he didnt push her out the window so she could smash her head on the sidewalk and hes just going to celebrate all night and tomorrow yellin Merry Christmas and Felice Navifuckindad. Sheeit, that muthafucka probably has a belly full of wine right now and is feeling warm all over and good like Christmas going to last forever, Sheeit! what the fuck that muthafucka doin eatin his belly full an laughin an scratchin muthafuck this sheeit, aint no way he havin a Merry Christmas—getting up and rushing down the stairs to the street, and rushing through the people, not paying any attention to his surroundings, the doorways, the shadows, but walking as fast as possible to Rauls turf, not giving a shit who saw him or who might recognize him, but increasing his pace until he was trotting, then jogging, bumping into a few people and just rushing on, almost knocking over a kid struggling with a skateboard who cursed him in Spanish, Bobby vaguely recognizing him as the kid brother of the first guy he got in the alley, the guy he pinned to the wood, but fuckim, what the fuck that little shit gonna do me, and he ran around a corner and slipped on a patch of ice and almost catapulted into the street but reached out and grabbed the lamppost and hung on it for a minute, his heart pounding in his ears and throat, feeling his eyes bulging but seeing almost nothing, and as he spun around the post he could see the kid staring at him and he pushed himself forward and ran down the street and plunged into a doorway, almost breaking the door as he exploded into it, then ran up the stairs the sounds of celebration and screaming chasing him up the steps until he got to the roof then leaned against the door, panting, sweat dripping down his sides, wiping his face with his scarf, his head raging, the air around him tinged with red, the fire in his brain tensing every muscle in his body, starting to step to the edge of the roof and staggering, his head shaking so violently he couldnt see and he fell against the door not hearing it thud against the metal sheets, sliding down until he was sitting, half lying, on the roof, a cold shock going through his body from the ice, continuing to slide until he was on his side, stretched out on the ice, panting, gasping for air, his eyes jammed shut against his dizziness, rolling his head and face on the ice until his vision started clearing, then rolling over on his back and looking up at the sky, the dull, cataract sky, no stars visible, just a heaviness that seemed to be slowly descending, and a panic shuttered through him and he again squeezed his eyes shut, then slowly opened them, the sky seeming to stay in place, the redness of the air slowly drifting away, and he blinked and forced himself to breathe slowly, deeply, without realizing what he was doing, then suddenly sat up, panicked but alert and looked around and tried to quiet his breathing so he could hear his surroundings but for many minutes all he could hear was the sound of his breath, then slowly the street sounds came up to him and he grabbed the knob of the door and raised himself and leaned against the door putting his ear to the freezing metal, listening…listening….
but heard nothing, once again wiping his face with his scarf, then allowing his breathing to slow and quiet, the cold air and the chill going through his body to clear his head and his eyes…
then suddenly started trembling as a shock of images assaulted his mind: the kids eyes as he recognized him, the eyes burning into the back of his head as he stumbled down the street, the kid running to tell Raul, all the people he bumped into staring at him, falling on the ice and Raul and his guys tearing him apart, throwing his body to mangy dogs, his spine suddenly like ice, his body jerking spastically, fighting to control himself but his arms jerked and spun, his legs trembling and folding, suddenly doubled over with nausea, trying to look around but unable to control his movements, crumbling to his knees not knowing how he got there, trying to crawl away but not knowing from what or why or where to go, cursing himself for being a Gauddamn fool and suddenly the cataract was clouding his vision and he didnt know who was sneaking up on him and he tried getting to his feet but his legs wouldnt support him and he was suffocated by the images when he tried to get away and his body was battered but he somehow kept moving, but now there was no place to run, no streets, no people, no place to hide, and he couldnt even raise his hands to defend himself, and a voice in his head kept screaming at him that he was a muthafuckin fool, dead fuckin meat on a roof top, and Raul was gonna be gettin his ass and throwin him over the side an hed be splattered on the street just like Maria and he tried to roll out of the way as he felt a club coming at his head and he kept rolling and crawling and trying to stand and run until he fell against the ledge and all he could see was the street below, far, far below and he tried to keep his balance but sweat stung his eyes and terror kept his body trembling and completely out of his control and he could see the street getting closer and closer and his body suddenly froze, rigid, and he screamed and screamed and screamed and went limp, rolling off the ledge onto the roof and once again stiffening, eyes jammed closed, aware only of the scream inside his head and his struggle to breathe as he waited for the impact…eyes suddenly opening, his temples throbbing, pain stabbing his head, his body slowly curling into a fetal position, arms wrapped around his head, rolling over on his side, aware of the cold roof, the smell of old tar and ice, his breath bouncing back into his face, wanting to sleep, to burrow into the side of the roof edge out of the wind and cold and sleep, sleep…
eventually rolling over and crawling to the corner and leaning his back against the edge as hard as possible, clutching his knees to his chin, fighting the nausea, dizzy with relief, and sat as quietly as possible, hearing the wind around him, crumbling into himself, his feelings, thinking of the wind heard and unfelt, then hearing his breathing, feeling it warming his knees, his face, allowing the sense of relief to bathe over him, eventually calming him until there was only his breathing that he heard and felt, unconsciously trying to cuddle deeper into the relief and breath and warmth, his body continuing to relax more and more, drifting in little bits and pieces deeper within the warmth and breath, feeling lighter like being in the whirlpool bath, his body seeming to go deeper within itself, his thoughts seeming to just drift away, his breathing easing, slowing, feeling warmer, safer, more and more floating free of himself, the darkness behind his eyes speckled with dots of light like stars in his own, personal sky, slowly becoming more and more a part of that sky, the stars, the light increasing but soft, very, very soft, so comforting, becoming more and more a part of the light, almost as if he was the light, and its comfort and peace, the comfort and peace gently flowing through him until there was only comfort and sitting there peaceful, less and less aware of Bobby, more and more aware of the peace, the beautiful lightness of the peace, no time, no roof, no body, only the lightness of peace, totally immersed and taken over by the lightness….
then wanting to stay with it, not wanting it to leave, struggling to keep it, becoming more and more aware of his body, the air around him, the cold roof under him, forcing his eyes shut each time they tried to open, but in time his eyes did open, blinking against the darkness, and he felt his knees under his chin, his arms around his head…then slowly, very gradually lifting his head, lowering his arms, seeing his knees, the roof, the sky, closing his eyes for a moment, opening them again and leaning back and looking at the edge, knowing the street was below, the reason for him being there forcing itself on him, staring at the edge of the roof, his sight slowly concentrating more and more on the iced-edged rim of the small parapet, staring through the ice at the chipped bricks and bits of cement, the ragged a
nd ripped edges, their ugliness at first fascinating then concentrating on the gaping holes, the cracks and tears becoming gargoyles and demons that seemed to move, huge mouths opening and spewing forth a vomit of curses that seared his brain and he slowly started crawling toward the edge feeling more demons behind him, knowing they had long handled axes ready to chop yet he continued to stare and crawl, now unaware of the ice under his hands and knees, the cold chilling his bones, until he was face to face with the demons and they told him to pull himself up, offering him a hand that was blackened and grotesque, and he clutched the edge of the roof as they spoke with fiery fury, LOOK, LOOK OVER THE EDGE, commanding him to pull himself up and lay on the edge of the roof and his hand went out, then the other, and he leaned his chest on the sharp edges of cuts and ice and looked over, then down at the garbage covered alley below into the ugly faces, mouths growing larger and larger until there were only blackened mouths screaming at him that he was worthless, a useless piece of shit as he continued to pull himself over the edge, balancing on his stomach ready to fall into the screaming mouths and then they became Marias head, thousands of them smashing on the ice, bits of blood frozen in air, reflecting the light of the stars like the tinsel on the Christmas tree and he could see all her mouths screaming in twisting silence and he stared, paralyzed, slowly becoming aware of the cold chilling his bones then suddenly thawing with the heat of rage he screamed into the tomb of an alley FUUUUCKKKKKKK, then fell back on the roof, gasping for air, rolling over and laying spread-eagled on his back looking up at the cataract sky, then slowly rolled over and sat up, back to the edge, leaning into the monsters, shutting them up, breathing deeper and deeper, slower and slower until he took one last deep breath and stood, looked around quickly, then walked to the door, opened and closed it carefully and quietly, then rapidly down the stairs to the basement, through the same alley, fully alert, eyes seeing, mind sensing every little shadow, feeling quiet, determined, he knew where he was going and what he had to do. It was all very clear. Raul would join Maria and the monsters, and the muthafucka would take forever to fall, hed make the sonofabitch watch those mouths twisting and dripping blood and have him begging him not to push him over the edge and hed laugh in the fuckin pricks face and watch him slide over the edge inch by inch, every onct in a while pulling him back jus a bit so he be thinkin he not going to be lettin him go, then hed push him some more, letim jus hang, jus hang so he can be lookin nowheres but down, down at the muthafuckin groun that be waitin to smash his haid like a melon and every time he squirm and beg and cry hed laugh jus a little bit louder and louder…yeah, he be laughin so loud fuckin Raul be pissin in his pants and then hed twist the muthafucka roun sos he be lookin right into Bobbys face and he grin the shit outta him and then he be lettinim go, Adios mutha fucka an he be watchin him fall, hopin he never do hit the bottom but jus keep fallin, scared hes gonna be hittin that muthafuckin cement the next second an he be afraid to blink his eyes and afraid to keep them open an he the a thousand times before he splat hisself on the dog shit that he be
The Willow Tree: A Novel Page 28
