by Daniel Kraus
Flypaper
Once hes got his do done, he tells me to round up Midget and make sure she hasnt pooped her drawers or nothing. Im like huh? Why do tiny children need to come along for illegal drug stuff? Me and Midge dont have people on that side of town. We dont even have money for the bus! I tell him straight up this is bull but Robbie fronts hard and says all of us are in this sharkweek together and if we expect to get big frosty supermilks we better learn supermilks dont grow on trees.
* * *
Fat boy can do speeches all day but thats not gonna change the sorry ass fact that this combed hair jacket wearing mightyducker is scared a going to pick up his package and hes aiming to protect his cowardly ass with a couple a small ass kids. That heats me up! On the other hand, what I dont need is two fat boy beat downs in the same day. Theres still TP wadded in my nose from the first one.
* * *
Midgets been missing for a while now but Im not a Pinebluff Glenn Estates parental making the uniforms do Amber Alerts all day. It dont work like that on Yellow Street. Little sisters probably rutting through junk like a little sister ought to. I check all the best piles but nope. Next I look under the table where Midget likes to sleep cute like a baby kangaroo but nope. Then I check the bathtub where she likes to play naked but nope. Little bitch isnt anywhere. I start working up a sweat before I think a Robbies garage. I bust in and sure enough theres Midge staring way up high.
* * *
Back when Robbie was holding road signs, he used the cash to transform his garage into what he called a bachelors den even though he let Dag and Midge and Little Lamb in too. He styled it up like he was an amazing style faggot from TV. He stringed up Christmas lights and found a rug that didnt have hardly any stains. Theres a boom box too that works if you put the Illustrated World Encyclopedia of Guns on the CD door to keep it shut. He painted the walls up neat and in the middle he put a metal table with beautiful flower designs, and in the center he gave a place a honor to a cool ass statue of Stonewall Jackson. Stonewall Jackson was this Civil War dude that had a army that beat the sharkweek outta armies ten times bigger just like in Lord of the Rings. Robbies real into the Civil War cuz he says his full name is Robert Edward and his folks named him that cuz hes a distant relative of Robert E Lee, Stonewall Jacksons boss. Dont ask me if its true. But I hope it is.
* * *
Gay TV style faggots taught me how all rooms need a signature piece and I guess Robbies signature piece is this big gold couch he got from the street and bleached for germs. You always got a mess a bug bites when you relaxed on the golden couch but still as signature pieces go its pretty dope. Back in the day? The good old day? Dang, boy. Wasnt any better place in the world to smoke a bowl or huff a bag or slurp a supermilk than Robbies super styling secret bachelor den.
* * *
After Little Lamb the garage went nasty. It stinks like Robbie hid a poop. For some reason the floors are covered in dried mud. Also the Christmas lights are busted, every single one, so there isnt any magical feel left. Even the naked girlies Robbie taped up are so yellow and wrinkly theyre zombies compared to the sexy calendar witch and dont have effects on my wiener. Robbies beautiful flower table got wrecked too like somebody hulked out on it, probably Robbie, and thats where Midge is standing, balanced all dangerous on top a pile a twisted up metal. Whole thing makes no sense till I look up and see where Midges looking.
* * *
Five strips a flypaper dangle off the ceiling. Flypaper has a fruity ass stink that doesnt stink like anything else. After Moms leg sores showed up, about a thousand flies moved into her room so I traveled my ass to Walgreen and bought flypapers from Dick Trickle but Moms said if I put flypapers up she was gonna vomit cuz flypaper is stone cold barbaric. I feel Moms on that one. Flypapers are unsightly for sure. They come out the tube all bright and yellow but these five in Robbies den for example are all black cuz a how many fly bodies are stuck on. A few a them bitches are still wiggling too. Midget a course is interested as hell, bouncing on tippy toes to get close.
* * *
Robbie rolls in quick. Right off hes hollering at Midget to get her ass off the scrap pile but she acts like shes deaf so Robbie runs up and I get nervous cuz Robbies clumsy and what if he makes Midge fall? Life is full a mysterious coincidences cuz thats the exact sec I notice old Stonewalls ceramic head smashed all over the floor. My brain is strange cuz I get two opposite thoughts. How I dont want Midgets head to get busted up like Stonewall and also how Stonewalls busted head parts might squoosh good inside a Three Musketeer.
* * *
But Barack Obama hero blood is running through these veins! Before Robbie can get there I put my arms around Midgets legs and lift her off the heap. She still snags three gnarly flypapers like its the most important thing she ever did. Dead ass flies start bouncing across my face and sticky paper is sticking to my lips and it tastes worse than coffee. Im not happy. Im not happy at all. But what else is a big brother supposed to do? I set Midge on the golden couch and she goes zooming inside with her flypapers like she thinks Im plotting to steal them. Meantime Robbies just standing there with his hands on his chest like he barely avoided a heart attack.
* * *
He goes
* * *
And Im thinking
* * *
Robbie covers up his fear for safety by bellyaching how late we are, how all a us are gonna piss off dealer man, how the outlooks gonna be bleak if we miss the next bus. But Robbie can eat a dick. Didnt my heroing earn me a single minute for myself? I march my ass in the bathroom. I dont have time to style like a player but at least I got to wipe the nosebleed crust off my face. Robbies sink is foul though. Hair clogs big as dead mice and knobs all scummed with black fungus. Im not looking to get contaminated with Robbies scabies and rabies and herpes and whatnot. Plus is water supposed to be orange?
* * *
So instead I go to the toilet and lift off the back lid cuz one time this girl at school educated me how water in the back of a toilet is super clean. I get me a whiff and Im not so sure. Smells ripe to me. But Robbies shouting and I dont have time to be a pussy so I scrub my face in toilet water. Dang, yo. Am I really doing this? At least Dags not here to see! Also I rinse out my pinkeye cuz if any cheeses out in front of dealer man thatd be straight up humiliating.
* * *
Fat boys waiting by the front door tapping his foot like a old lady. While Im laughing at that entertaining behavior a cold wind blows up and dead leaves come shooting inside the crib and go twirling all around. I dont know, its sort a pretty. Its like snow. Like Halloween snow. If Dag was here, she might go spinning and dancing in them leaves cuz thats the kind of graceful ass girly stuff she likes to do.
* * *
Robbie yells how I got to knock off the daydreaming and get my ass in gear. I guess hes not making Midget come after all cuz shes sitting in the corner chattering to her flypapers like its a little kid tea party. Thats a relief and I dont want Robbie changing his mind on that, so I run for the bus stop fast as Legolas son of Thranduil.
* * *
Everybody in Middle Earths son of somebody. Thats how it oughta be. Just think a Robbie. Maybe his folks are gone but he did say he was the great great great great great grandson of an Irish king and also has a aunt whos giving him a caribbean house and also a distant relative of Robert E Lee. Maybe one of them is true. Maybe all of them is true. Makes me wonder who Jodys got. Who Jodys really got. If my Barack Obama pops dont ever show and Moms dont ever get better and Robbie gets his ass hauled off to jail. Maybe Jodys not son of nobody. Im ruminating on this gloomy ass concept when the bus pulls up and both me and Robbie get coughing from exhaust and I realize how not a single one a Robbies clocks were ringing when we left. Yo. Bad omen, man. For real.
Kyle
Time to time I ride the bus to Yellow Str
eet when its icy cold but this route isnt my route and Im not acquainted with these particular crackheads. Whole back a the bus is took up by this white lady that breathes like a pig and is wearing scraps a rags all filthed together. Across the aisle from me is this black brother and hes a straight up junkie with his skin mightyducked and his teeth mightyducked and his eyeballs jerking around like he thinks the whole group a us are gonna pull our knives. Theres also this gal that looks real normal except every five minutes she screams out incredible truth bombs like
* * *
Then this dude with no legs gets his wheelchair lifted in with a elevator thing and even though it takes a long time its fascinating cuz I enjoy science. Robbie though hes so impatient he starts hollering at No Legs Man about how hes gonna be No Arms Man too if he doesnt hurry his ass up. Other folks give Robbie applause like they think handicappers are the root of all evil. Violence is thick up in that bitch. I wish I had my Barack Obama mask so I coulda gone to the front all presidential and been like
* * *
You know Robbies big time stressed cuz he doesnt let me pull the cord for our stop and thats the funnest part. The hood we step out at? First time I ever laid eyes on it. Its got a liquor store and a place for lotto tickets but the rest a the block is boarded up and theres not any folk like, you know, living lives, besides the corner crews signaling the boys across the street to hook up buyers. You know how crack boys do. Also the whole block stinks a fish. I ask a squirrel whats up with that. Cuz theres a squirrel there too.
* * *
Fresh turf cant shake me. True, the people here arent demographical like they are in my hood. In my hood theres a lot more white folk that I guess fell on hard times or got IRSed or what have you. I get a bad thought and I mean real bad. What if these pushers think Robbies my pops? Thats a nightmare scenario! If they jack Robbie, then they got to jack me as well. And who doesnt lay eyes on Robbie and want to jack his fat ass?
* * *
Robbie scopes the road signs and waddles his butt to a corner where we meet a grade school girl tough as hell. Kid spits expert too, accurate like me and my ninja stars. She talks fast, laying it out about blue tips and yellow stripes and da bomb and how much we want a each. Robbie cant get a word in. After the child finishes she pats her stomach like shes gonna show us her gat unless we speak up. Robbie says hes supposed to get with Kyle so wheres Kyle at? Girl says mightyduck off. Robbies got twenty years on this diaper baby but hes sweating it. He shows her his phone record with Kyles digits. Girl considers it and says if we two are fibbing shes gonna place a cap in both our behinds. Robbie smiles like thats a fair deal. Speak for your dang self, homes!
* * *
Little girl passes us off to a tall brother with giant headphones and a mess a scars on his cheek and also no ear, and this tall disfigured music enjoying deaf brother takes us down the way to a pretty nice place with a good fence where he knocks on a door and talks real quiet through the crack before he waves our asses in. Robbie a course has to bust out his church voice. He goes
* * *
We stumble our asses down a dark scary hall that has cool colored lights at the end. I dont know what Im expecting. Room full a gold? Bunch of G string shorties rubbing their butts on stripper poles? Well, its nothing like that but its still pretty tight, a big spacious ass room styled so correct its like weve entered a fantasy land. Blue neon lights glowing everywhere and freestyling from the speakers is none other than my boy Lil Wayne. Hey! Thats my joint right there!
* * *
Im krumping before I even notice the bar stocked with a thousand alcohols and the walls with a bunch a life size pictures a soccer dudes. I dont know sharkweek about soccer but maybe I oughta learn! Rest a the rooms got foosball and a pool table shaped like a stop sign and wait, wait, hold up. Dang, robocop! This crib has a ferret! Now I wish Midget had come after all cuz little sister enjoys the hell outta wildlife. This bad ass ferret is bopping around to Lil Wayne and is wearing a scarf.
* * *
Furniture is tight too. Big pink and yellow bean bags and chairs that look like eggs. Plus theres two pimped out lazyboys facing a projector screen playing Mass Effect the best I ever saw it played. The video game mastermind is this dude wearing a red do rag and doing his controller so fast its like hes got supernatural powers. Id be satisfied to stand here the rest a my life watching this genius do his thing but you know Robbie. Fat boys always got to be crapping the bed.
* * *
Robbie introduces himself real formal. Kyle, I guess this is Kyle, he ignores it. Hes got some video game people he needs to slay. After some rad explosions he pauses the game and strolls to the bar to pour him some pistachio nuts. Kyles wearing a whitey like hes street but also PJ pants with palm trees and pineapples. He yawns like massacring all them computer men wiped him out. Oh and check this. Dudes fat. Like Robbie fat. How come his fat makes him look like a cool ass killer?
* * *
* * *
* * *
Dancing? This is krumping, bitch! Maybe Kyles got a rule about no krumping in the crib and even though thats a bullcrap rule he does have a ferret in a scarf so you got to credit him for that. The neon in the room goes from blue to pink and Kyle sighs huge like hes sick a dealing with dumb asses and their krumping sidekicks. He doesnt even look at us when he does the menu. Doesnt confuse us like the little girl did with brand names either. Sugar, base, stones, caps, horse, bolt, bump, beans, A, E, TNT, dust, crystal, reefer. He rattles off prices too. Not bad for a dude half sleeping.
* * *
Robbie does a retard grin and whips out his chip. Yo! You arent supposed to flash cash like that! Kyle starts scanning like we might be narcs. He asks Robbie who I am. Robbie says Im nobody. Kyle asks how come Robbie only has small ass juveniles for friends, he a pervert or something? Robbie says Im not a friend, Im just some kid that keeps showing up to his crib.
* * *
Dang. Thats cold. Makes me feel kinda low. Kyle laughs real mean and he goes
* * *
Kyle shakes his do rag head. Hes all woke up now. He says
* * *
Robbie says
* * *
Just like that the mood in the crib gets nasty. Neon lights go from pink to orange. Mass Effect switches to sleep mode. Ferret in the scarf starts choking on pistachio shells. Even Lil Wayne starts moaning ominous. Cuz Kyle is Kyle Ketchum, #69 Kyle Ketchum, the same infamous ass psycho that beat Robbie close to death with a beer pitcher back in the day. Lots a bewildering business starts making sense to my brain. How come Robbie didnt want to call the new dealer man. How come he put it off so long. These fat boys here were teammates long before sharkweek went south.
* * *
Ketchum says
* *
*
Robbie goes
* * *
Ketchum says
* * *
Robbie goes
* * *
Ketchum says
* * *
Robbie goes
* * *
Ketchum says
* * *
For a tired ass Mass Effect genius that used to be a blocker Ketchum has excellent speech skills. He picks up his ferret and kisses it all over its belly like we arent even there. Robbies face goes red as hell and its got nothing to do with how the neon changed colors again. Now blubber butt cant afford but a little sliver of the drugs he came for and thats doing a number on his self esteem.
