by Kia Corthron
Geez! Humble Maryland’s suddenly become the art capital of the world! Carl’s lip corners turn up to smile.
You got blood where that cat bit cha.
I’ma get that tabby. Carl pitches a stick. Twirlin fast like a pinwheel before the faint crack, landin in the distance.
There’s where the path ends. Here on out keep a watch for these white rags bow-tied on the tree branches. He nod dutiful. I could tell him I can walk the way blindfolded but I don’t. Allow him the firs-time adventure a findin the markers.
There’s one. He spy a rag tied to an oak limb. Rumble a thunder. It’s hot! Wipin his brow. Then glance back to me, grin: Blondie.
Hair at my temples always bleached by late summer, which some people finds real startlin an delightful given I’m just as dark-complected as the resta my family. Glimpsin that little sandy edge in the meer make me smile, but Carl don’t need to know. Unfortunately the pride flush up too fast, he caught it fore I could turn my mouth scowl-down.
Holy Toledo. Carl detect another chalk sketch off the beaten path. Captain America. Hung.
Now he turn, starin at me straight-on firs time a the stroll, accusation an a smirk. Hopin I’ll confess to somethin I’m innocent till proven guilty of. He ain’t interested in playin the judge. All he wants is to be in on the joke.
What ever happen to all those white-boy friends you had from school?
He shrug. What’s it to you?
Jus seem like you had friends one day, nex not.
I have em. When I want em. Carl hurl a stone. How come you don’t have any colored friends?
I do. I mean I get along with em. School. They’re jus not as convenient at home.
Guess that’s me too. Stuck playing with whoever’s convenient, then pitch me a side glance while he swing himself up, lower branch of a tree.
What are you doin?
Taking a break. He start scalin the oak.
We’re almost there.
I’m taking a break, it’s hot.
I lean against the tree, pinch a piece a my shirt fannin my stomach, an now lass night’s dream suddenly in fronta me like real, the night vision been reoccurrin different ways since Decoration Day. Great Aunt Tiny. Real tiny, like a doll, rope tied roun her neck. The rope tied to a pole. She jus looked asleep like Uncle Sam said, but now she bein slapped back n forth by white boys. Tetherball.
Hey. I can see the water from here.
I look up at him. Squirrel come out its hole, gimme the wunst-over.
Come on up.
I take in the map of it, the secure branches, the ones might snap quick, send me hurtlin. Grab onto a low limb, slow. I ain’t got Carl’s purebred ability, him settin higher n safety far as I can tell. Maybe tree-climbin he perfected at Happy White Boy Camp. I stop at the stablest branch jus below him.
See it?
Not high enough.
Kids swimming. If I had a BB gun. Carl aim with his finger: Pow.
Off to the right a oriole appear, settle near that treetop. Peer aroun, measurin up the prospects, fly off.
I told my dad one day you were gonna take me to the crick. He said, The what? I said, The crick. He said, The what? I said, The water! He looked completely confused! Then he said, The creek! Jones Creek!
I poker face, showin nunna my cards. For truth till this moment I’d no idea crick an creek was the same, figured they was jus two different in a line a dictionary same-meanins: 3. Brook. 4. Stream.
Not just you, all the kids in my school call it The Crick. Humble. I’m a hick, I live in a crick.
The tetherball players were the boys I met from Carl’s school, cep in the dream they were Carl’s campmates. Carl was there, not playin but officiatin. Violation against the blue team, he said.
After my sister finishes talking about those filthy Negro pictures in that raggedy old house, my father goes to my mother, You think Dwight might’ve made those pictures? and my mother goes, Oh come on, Craig, Dwight’s not like that. Dwight doesn’t make trouble. And I thought, That’s for sure. If there’s one thing Dwight does not make, it’s trouble.
Carl’s danglin leff shoe just inches above, my arm’s reach easy. Just a little yank an there tumble Carl a hundred feet, splat.
I’m goin, an I take the initiative: descent. To prove somethin Carl stay put better part a thirty seconds before movin off his perch.
Just tell me this. On the groun Carl racin to catch up. How many are there?
How many what?
Lynch cartoons. I’d just like to see em all.
I walk faster. Mr. Randolph said he broke the sedition laws jus by speakin his mind about the other war. Could colored chalk sketches be some kind a felony?
Whaddya think? I’m gonna tell somebody? What, you don’t trust me?
What difference does it make? You already decided I done it, so leave it.
I wanna hear it from your lips. I wanna know how many more.
What for?
Cuz I’ve told you stuff about me and you’ve never said anything to me about you.
I turn aroun. What stuff about you?
He stares.
That was only after I said somethin to you firs.
What firs?
About Roof’s little sister that drowned.
Yeah, about Roof, and I tell you about my mother, nothing ever comes up about you! Now Carl frown. Why’d you tell me that about Roof anyway?
I don’t know. Shrug. Maybe I thought you’d like him better. Stop bein so hard on him.
Carl mullin this over, brow all furrowed like he workin out some brain-tanglin crossword. I turn, walkin on ahead.
Dwight.
I sigh. Stop.
If you thought telling me his deep dark secret might make me cut him some slack. Was there ever a day you thought telling him my deep dark secret might make him cut me some slack?
Whoosh! flock a blackbirds takin off. We look up. I keep starin, then feel his irises trained on me again, bring my eyes down to meet em.
Three.
His eyebrows raise.
You already found two chalk pictures. One to go.
Scream an a splash. Trees open up an there they are: dock, tire swing, the crick. An now I see the kids Carl spied from high in the leaves. I assumed they was white. Wrong.
Richard’s head’s just above the water, Kimmie settin on Richard’s shoulders. Kimmie: No don’t, please don’t, strugglin not to laugh an Talia four feet away smilin. Richard smilin, everybody grin, party out there in the middle a the half-a-football-field wide crick. Richard say, One, two, three! an flip Kimmie backwards splash. Kimmie come back up, Talia Me me me! an now Richard starin at two boys standin on the bank. Or, to be more precise, at the colored boy. Kimmie an Talia stop the horseplay, follow his gaze.
Carl all bright. What are we waiting for. Come on!
Strips down to his trunks, runnin out on the dock bam bam bam. Leaps into the tire swing, flies out an plunges hisself the midst a the screamin scramblin colored. Carl resurface, the girls giggle.
Come on, Dwight.
I put my hand side a my face, shadin my eyes from the harsh sunlight. Then I remember the sky done clouded over but can’t backtrack now, squint like the rays blindin me. Walk to the dock, take off my shirt, fold it neat. Take off my shorts, fold em neat. Set em all on the enda the wood slats near the bank. Take a step on, creak. Take another, ain’t no rush, creak creak.
Come on, Dwight.
Come on, Dwight, the girls echoin Carl, yards away but my vision’s good, I see what kinda laughter behine their eyes. I leap for the tire.
Sway, sway. No need exertin myself with the sun boilin the world, I pay them no mind. But now feel myself pushin the pendulum, higher, higher, the kids far beneath. Miz Carey brung in a picture a the Empire State Building, world’s tallest, opened when I w
as two. Now I stand at the top a that tower, Carl an Richard an Kimmie an Talia stories an stories below, they speak but I see only lips movin, too far down for me to hear, ants.
GO!
I don’t know which a the four spoke but I’m fallin hard, fast, they all squeal an scatter. Crash! Underworld, no soun, eight legs leisurely treadin overhead. I won’t come up. Lass summer with the twins I held my breath the longest, forty-seven seconds, I’ll stay under so long Carl an Richard an Talia an Kimmie’ll finally look at each other an shrug, give up an go home. Under the surface I see Richard’s studio, an Richard paintin his sisters Richard capturin their bliss, and his self-portrait apple an the eye. Then it’s cold an windy an there I am on the floor readin the funnies an Eliot cryin cuz he jus learnt a new word: lynch. Now I’m at Carl’s an Mrs. Talley holdin the plate a brownies. These have walnuts. These are plain.
Yanked up from behine! Strong hands liff me by my underarms, break through.
Jesus! I thought you were drowning, says Carl, my apparent savior.
You okay? asks Kimmie.
Listen to him coughin! says Talia. You tryin to kill yourself?
Just catch your breath, says Kimmie. Relax.
Jesus, says Carl the Hero.
Why’d you take so long to get in the water in the first place? asks Talia.
Okay now? asks Kimmie.
Sprised he get in the water at all, seein colored in it, says Talia. Kimmie hits Talia’s arm. What? says Talia. Richard tryin not to smile. Carl look at Talia an Kimmie, then at Richard, then at me.
Here’s the game, says Richard. See it?
Hey, where’dja get that? asks Talia. Richard holdin a rock painted bright orange.
I brung it.
Richard’s an artist, Kimmie says.
Yeah, this a real masterpiece, says Richard.
I mean other stuff. He can paint you, and you really see yourself.
So’s Dwight an artist, says Carl.
Yeah. Dwight’s an artist alright, says Richard.
They’re both artists, says Kimmie. Richard smiles at me, which everyone sees. An somethin else he make in his smile for only me to see, though I ain’t clear what it is.
My mother gave Dwight an art book for his birthday. She says Dwight has real talent, real potential.
Carl facin away from me, I’m lookin at his back so hard to tell if he’s smilin. An if I did see him smilin not sure I’d know what it mean.
Here’s the game, says Richard. I drop the rock. On five, we dive. Got it?
Got it, says Talia, her swimsuit strap slippin down a bit off her right shoulder, an Talia’s started developin a bit on her right side. Oh boy.
Richard drops the rock in the water: One. Two. Three. Four. Five!
Everyone dives, me a little behine so by the time I’m down, Carl’s already back up: I got it! I got it! Now everybody to the surface. Carl holdin the rock now notices Talia’s slipped swimsuit, then Talia noticin Carl noticin her swimsuit. Talia let out a little squeak, plunge under to make herself decent.
Now me, goes Carl. One.
Kimmie join in. Two. Three. Four. Five! Everyone under. This time I spy the rock quick, but slow to decide whether I wannit. Kimmie snatches it, crash through. I got it! Everybody to the top.
Richard: Let’s race. He turn to Carl. You an me. That big rock an back.
Kimmie referee, make sure they both at the startin line even if the startin line’s invisible. On your mark. Get set. Go!
Carl’s a strong swimmer, natural athlete. But so’s Richard, an Carl’s thirteen, Richard tall an fifteen. If there was such a thing as buildin up a sweat swimmin, Richard wouldn’t even had.
The winner! says Kimmie. Richard barely smile.
Dammit, says Carl.
Awwww, say Kimmie an Talia, like they never heard a kid say it before.
Now you. Richard’s eyes on me.
You did good, Carl, Kimmie says. Richard’s tall.
Dammit!
Underwater this time. Why’s Richard get to make all the rules?
Get in position, Talia says.
I don’t think Dwight should have to do it, Kimmie says. Look at him panting, he’s still scared from almost drowning.
I’m not pantin.
I’m standing right next to you, all I hear is ha-ah ha-ah ha-ah ha-ah.
Get in position, Carl says. Richard an me at the line. On your mark. Get set. Go!
Down. Everything slow motion. There’s noise above the surface but it’s some other universe. Richard pulled far ahead an I don’t care, Richard already at the rock, me still yards away an here he come approachin on the return, he’ll finish without ever havin to come up for air whilst I already surfaced for a quick refuel. The water crystal today, I see him clear like a winda. An think, When he passes I could cheat. Richard so focused on the finish line, I could make a U-turn never bother to touch the dang rock. He’d still win, jus less embarrassin my defeat, what’s the difference? But I’m plagued with the curse of integrity, I trudge on the honest path an as we’re about to pass I look over an see Richard stock still, starin straight at me. Muss be a good ten feet a distance between us but I see him clear seein me clear as he pull down his trunks.
Fly to the surface! coughin, chokin. Carl an Kimmie an Talia stare. Richard surfaces, finish line.
The winner! says Talia.
Now the girls race, says Kimmie.
Dwight didn’t even make it to the rock! Talia cracks up.
Sure he did, says Richard. He touched it an was on his way back. Talia looks at me, Richard’s lie make her face all frowny confused. Richard look at me an air it is again. Mystery smile.
Relay race! says Talia.
First the girls alone, says Kimmie, then Talia screams.
An there on the bank, starin at us stands a Blackface. Take me a sec to reckonize him.
Ew, says Talia, he’s dirtier n usual. Richard giggle, Kimmie tryin not to. Carl smiles.
He got on at the mines.
I think we could guess that, Talia answerin me but her eyes still on the bank.
We knew that. People know that.
I didn’t know that, Talia correctin Kimmie. But I could guess it.
Dwight.
Everybody in the water go quiet, like startled a Blackface could talk.
What’d he say? Talia asks.
I think he called Dwight. Did he call you, Dwight? says Kimmie an I wonder Those girls suddenly go deaf? I don’t even look at her, my eyes fixed on the figure starin at me from the bank.
Dwight.
You better answer him.
Talia clearly wa’n’t talkin to Carl but here come his two cents: Why? No one invited him. Al Jolson. Everybody turn sharp to Carl but he seem to take no notice, laughin at his joke, divin under.
Get rid of him.
This time I decide to answer Talia, my eyes like stone. It’s a public crick. He can be here if he wants.
Well I wonder if somethin’s wrong with him.
Me too, says Kimmie.
Like maybe he’s a little bit retarded, continue Talia.
He’s not retarded. My voice quiet, my underwater hans tight, fists.
Whaddya gonna do, act like he’s not there?
I try to act like Richard ain’t there, but course he gotta go on: Pretend it’s not your name he’s callin?
Dwight!
I breathe deep before I swim toward shore, stayin far enough away I still gotta tread.
What.
You said Sundays off you an me.
I went to your house every Sunday, you were always too tired!
I said, Come back nex Sunday.
I did!
Not today.
Every other Sunday! Geez, Roof, maybe I got tireda always No. An don’t look lik
e you were off today.
They needed extra men to blast the new hole, me an Daddy went in, three more hours.
Stare at him. He stare at me. A fish plop but the crick behine me where all the human beins is ain’t stirrin.
Come outa the water.
No!
Roof say nothin but gimme the steel eyes.
It’s hot!
So make me yell crost the crick?
We’re not yellin. An then I glance over my shoulder. Three. No tellin where Carl swum off to. I turn back to the shore. Come ere, I say, an swim to edge a the dock.
Roof breathin heavy, from where I’m treadin I can hear it, deep an fearful. Then he take a cautious step by step, inchin down the pier toward me. He stop well short a the front, a safe distance a the better part of a foot between him an the edge.
I looked everywhere for ya. Messengill’s an D’Angelo’s, the railroad tracks. Then I remembered. You goin to the crick one day. With him.
I said that lass summer! How’dju remember it now?
Roof starin.
Look, I’ll come by an play later.
When?
I don’t know! You need a bath anyway. Take a bath an by that time I’ll be aroun.
Roof start coughin. The coughs are small. Then the coughs are big. Then the coughs are bigger, bigger, like an orchestra from Music Appreciation barrelin toward a huge cough crescendo.
You’re startin to cough like your dad.
AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!
A screamin banshee come sprintin, poundin crost the deck behine Roof. Roof swerve aroun, his face alight with the terror, losin his balance an fallin backward splash! Gone.
Everybody freeze. Cep the smilin blond boy banshee on the dock, who speak: Teach him to swim.
Seem like a hour but prolly not three seconds fore my wits come back, I’m bout to dive under searchin for him when he crash through, screamin for help. Wavin frantic, then back under, pop to the surface, fall under. I swim fast, reach him, Grab on to me, Roof! But his whole bein is panic, snatchin at me but slippin off. Richard an the girls now swum to the scene. Finally Roof manage to get close enough to the dock so the banshee standin atop can reach down an grab him under the arms.
