by Kia Corthron
Gotcha, says the rescuer an laughs.
Roof’s head hinge back to look right up into Carl’s face.
NO!
Roof throw hisself outa his deliverer’s clutch, apparently choosin death over bein saved by Carl. The thrust send him flyin outa all our reach, and he paddlin wild, Drownin! Drownin! Drownin!
Swimmin.
Hey, says Richard.
Roof. Roof! You’re swimmin! I yell it, catchin my breath. I yell it!
Yay! cheer the girls.
Toldja, says Carl.
Roof do the doggie paddle, Roof backstroke. Roof floatin face up on calm waters, Roof smilin, look at peace. Then freestyle to the dock.
Uh-oh, says Carl an jumps in before he gets jumped in. Roof pull hisself up on the pier, standin, lookin down at his audience in the water. Grinnin.
Yay, Roof! Kimmie an Talia whistlin. Me an Richard smilin. Carl smilin but his smile seem a little too much, or a little too little.
Niggers, says Roof. Dirty dumb niggers, all the goddamn lotta you.
Everybody still. The waters still the birds still.
How could I be friends with niggers?
What the hell? Richard all gapin.
Niggers? say Carl. Well guess what you look like right now. Everyone turn to Carl, confusion. The dip in the crick cleaned some a the black off Roof’s face, but not all. Thunder.
Make no mistake, Talia says. There’s only one nigger here who’d call you a friend.
Why you gotta be like that, Roof? asks Kimmie.
Filthy Bartons, says Talia. That trash your friend, Dwight?
Nobody colored pushed you in, Roof, says Kimmie.
Roof’s eyes on me: No. ’Twas Dwight’s friend pushed me in.
Damn right, says Carl.
Trash Bartons, says Talia.
I pushed you, and I saved you. You can swim now, you got me to thank.
Dwight’s best friend, says Roof. You all got badminton planned for today?
You need to go home an clean yourself up, I say.
This is the thanks we get for saving his life! If I hadn’t been here, you’d still not know how to swim, you’d be dead! If I hadn’t been here—
If your mama’d only hop! hop! hopped! better, says Roof, you wouldn’ta been here.
The sound that come outa Carl ain’t nothin like anybody here ever before heard on earth, puttin us all to silence. Carl look at me, then back at Roof whose murder eyes still stuck on Carl. Then Roof turn aroun, walkin away.
You stinking piece of shit! Moron, you po white trash nothin! Then Carl dive under.
I toldja never to repeat that! I’m yellin but all I see’s his back, him movin away, not fast, not slow. You hear me, Roof?
Carl up from the water, rock in his hand. Hurls it but it go wild, missin Roof by yards. Stupid piece of trash shit!
CONSIDER U.S. NO LONGER FRIENDS, ROOF!
Roof jus keep walkin: Like we ever was, Dwight.
Piece of coal mining trash! Goddamn shame to the white race!
Like we ever was, Dwight, an Roof disappear into the woods.
Carl fly out the water, vanish where Roof jus did.
White boy fight! Talia gigglin.
He ain’t gonna catch him, Richard says.
Way he tore outa this water? Yeah, Talia repeat, he gonna catch him.
He ain’t gonna catch him cuz he don’t wanna catch him.
Why Roof gotta be like that, Kimmie ponderin aloud.
Ain’tchu gonna go after him? Richard askin me. Ain’t he your friend?
Yeah, ain’t he your friend?
Shut up, Talia.
Talia glare at Kimmie. Don’t tell me to shut up.
He ain’t gonna catch him cuz it’s a fight he won’t win, an he damn sure know it. Then Richard dive under.
Talia holdin her arms like suddenly she cold. Somebody better go, make sure they’re not killin each other. Then she scream, Richard come under her, pull her up on his shoulders, throw her off backward.
It sure is quiet out there, says Kimmie not to anyone in particular but I’m the only one leff to hear it. I sigh an slow move to the shallow. Step onto the bank, then stop cuz here come Carl walkin outa the woods.
I couldn’t catch him. Carl starin at me. Everyone in the water quiet now, starin at Carl. Flock a geese screech overhead.
I’m going home, says Carl, and turn into the woods. I quick grab my clothes an his, jog to catch up.
Carl walk fast. I know he hear me comin up behine but he persist with the speed, don’t turn aroun. Then I hear: I shoulda killed him.
I’m scamperin to keep up.
I shoulda picked up another rock, cracked open his skull. Then Carl pick up a rock, throw it hard into the trees. A twig snaps, falls.
He sure ain’t no friend a mine no more.
Carl swing aroun so quick I near barrel into him, his eyes burnin me red hot. I owe him my attention but not long can I hold it. Look away, but I owe him explainin I catch my breath catch my breath.
He was talkin bad about you. Most an gen—Usually. Usually we don’t say anything about you, but this one day. An I was jus tryin to say, you know, you got your problems too, your mother, you. He thought you was jus some spoiled rich boy, I was jus sayin other people’s got their problems too, I was tryin to—
Dwight the peacemaker. Any more a your diplomacy, guess we’d be entering the third great war.
Why some chuckle escape outa me I can’t say. Carl sure weren’t makin no humor an I sure ain’t feelin no joy. The look he gimme now. Not hate. Worst. I don’t know the word for what he’s lookin at’s so nothin it ain’t even worth the energy to hate. Wunst Eliot threw a dictionary at my head. Sycophant.
Carl pick up another rock, hurl it, yellin. Smelly piece of miner trash! Pick up another, this one big, yellin. Dead meat!
An there’s Parker.
Carl starin at the cat. His hand tightenin roun the rock I feel sweat cole sweat pop out my forehead. Rumble a thunder.
We better go, I say. Your mother’ll be fixin lunch for you, wonderin where you are.
Carl kneel. Here, kitty kitty.
Parker suspicious. Parker eyein Carl.
Here, kitty kitty kitty. Here, tabby.
That cat bites, remember? You better leave that cat alone. An I liff my leg high, gonna stomp gonna send Parker runnin but Carl’s faster, Carl grab my leg midair near topple me over.
Hey!
Parker flinch. Parker crouch into himself.
Oh don’t be scared, kitty kitty. Carl movin careful toward Parker. Nobody’s gonna hurt you.
Parker flinch again. Now Carl gettin closer, Parker hiss an take off. Carl hurl the rock at Parker’s head. Funny Carl miss Roof by a mile but this time bull’s eye. The stone bang Parker’s skull, bounce off.
Parker stop, tryin to trudge on in his path but dizzy. Carl movin in closer, close. My mornin toast on its way back up, sour my throat, Carl.
Parker hiss harsh an swipe a claw at Carl, who jump back nicka time.
You bitch, says Carl, then picks up the rock an give Parker another whump, close range. Blood.
Carl!
Oh she can take it. Hey kitty.
It’s a he. Air soppin humid but my mouth dry.
Carl teasin Parker with the rock, like it’s some ball a yarn. Parker swats. Can you get it? Parker swats. Can you get it? Parker pants.
Carl, come on.
Can you get it?
You hurt him enough, Carl, come on. Parker swats an slashes Carl’s han.
Oh boy, you’re in for it now. An Carl straddle Parker, usin inside a his shoes to gentle push Parker side to side, Parker havin trouble keepin balance. Hey kitty. Carl pick up the rock an smack Parker a bit, right side a his head. Hey kitty. Carl smack Parker
a bit, leff side. Hey kitty. Parker bleedin, staggerin. Now Carl stand up straight, studyin Parker. I figure he finally got tired a the game. My breath come back, I start to speak, no. Keep my big dumb mouth closed, Carl done stopped on his own, leave it.
An sudden with all his might Carl whip his arm back forceful, the rock high in the air, ready for the big crush.
Carl!
PARKER!
We turn toward the scream. He stans tremblin. Numb.
Eliot. My throat tight.
Parker!
Eliot. Whatta ya doin here?
Eliot pantin, starin at Parker. Then his wild eyes turn to me.
Oh I wasn’t really gonna hit the damn cat. Eliot an I snap back to Carl. He laughs. I was gonna throw by the cat, scare him, see?
An before Eliot or I can move, Carl slam the rock on Parker’s head. The stone bounce off. There Parker’s head on the groun, half of it flat an somethin oozin. Brain.
PARKER!
Eliot run to the cat.
Oops.
Parker! Eliot cradlin him. My body froze but the world warm, world blurry an world clear, clear. My mouth open but no words, mute.
God, I really meant to miss it. Chucklin. I really am a bad shot.
Parker! Eliot bawlin, me starin at Carl through my eyes blurry ha-ah ha-ah ha-ah ha-ah
Jesus. No wonder I never made pitcher in the summer camp games.
I feel no legs but make my body move, my eyes on Eliot only Eliot, I’m close, I reach out to touch him gentle. Eliot flinch like Parker, Eliot flinch hard from me.
That was one mean tabby. Carl swing himself up to sit, low branch of a tree. Shows his han. Look at that scratch.
Eliot. I try again, reach out touch my brother but Eliot scream an swing wild, slap my arm away. An now he stare at me, his eyes terrible his eyes confused, like he don’t know who I am, like maybe he never did.
AAAAAAH! Me an Eliot turn to Carl, what now? But nothin hurt him, he laughin. Discovered in the distance number three, Uncle Sam decked out in his regular red white n blue, hung. Carl whoopin so hard he fall back, hung from that branch by his knees an upside-down he still can’t stop the giggling, face red, red, mad rush a blood.
Parker. I turn back to Eliot, my baby brother holdin his cat. PARKER! Eliot runnin through the woods, Eliot carryin Parker’s corpse clutchin Parker to his heart.
Eliot. I wipe my face an run, follow, not too close. Eliot, Eliot. An feel like those the only two words I’ll ever know resta my life.
1959–60
Prayer Ridge
1
Decay. Knot. Split. I write the defecks a the logs on my chart. Wipe my wet forehead with my wet arm, glance over at B.J., him all concentration, movin logs along the carriage to the big ole head saw. Lunch break called, I go set with the fellas though I don’t talk much, them discussin the photographs a the earth appeared on the TV lass night, some of em claim it’s all fake, ain’t nobody in no outer space, them blurry pictures coulda been anything. I don’t say how I marveled, all along thought we was the entire universe, then August 1959 roll aroun here’s the picture prove otherwise: historical. My brother by hisself in the corner readin like usual. A Farewell to Arms. Even a five-minute break he pull a book out. Well why not, cep for me nobody sure know how to han-talk with him. People workin with him jus mimes what they need. My hans: How is it? He smile, right fingertips tap his chin then bring backa right han down to leff palm: Good. Always I ask bout his books though never do I pick up one. Lost interest after I dropped out, now all I read’s the paper.
When I was nineteen an still got some energy, read in the ads bout some crash sign language course in Selma, three long days. Me an B.J. trades our work schedule an goes. What we learned! Still, can’t help here an there throwin in our ole made-up words.
Fifteen an barely a year workin when Ed Kessler says Boy, gimme a stick a that damn Wrigley’s cuz often I had a wad in my mouth, and I go I ain’t got no more, jus like that, I ain’t got no more all natural pop out. Hadn’t talked that way since before I started school, like I got educated and lost ain’t, replaced it with grammar, but not twelve months sawin logs an ain’t come flyin back, simultaneous the better words slowly driftin away. When I’m mad I say mad. Or angry: that’s it. Useta have a whole slew a vocabulary for mad. An glad. Sad. All his readin, I know B.J.’s dictionary been steadily increasin whilst seem like I’m goin backwards.
Whistle blow an we back at it. I wave, catch my brother’s eye. Comin for supper Saturday?
Yes.
Even though it’s the routine tradition him over every Saturday, I don’t ask he won’t come, like not to presume. I gaze at him, checkin the sharpness a the teeth before startin again. When I was a kid I’d hear these radio shows, the villain tyin up the woman, then puttin her on the carriage for the head saw to saw her in half. That wa’n’t the way Pa went. Two months after my eighth-grade graduation, saw jus swallow his arm. Life insurance he mercifully had take care a the burial, an September I fine myself in the mill steada the high school. Still, I don’t worry bout B.J., careful in his work. I done the head saw myself here an again, an oddly I find a certain peace, the magic, spinnin logs into lumber. Wonder if Pa felt that before it all turn to blood.
Saturday watchin Erma pull the oven door down, peekin at the roase chicken. Couple months ago, sweatin an swingin at the VFW, home in bed after an she go This is the night, I feel it. I ride her slow, like that how ya make a baby. Minutes later the alcohol have her dreamin, she ain’t no regular drinker but wunst in a blue moon. I stare at the ceilin. Plantin seeds a babies ain’t never proved a challenge, she got a speck a one stuck up in her now. Keepin it in incubation, well. This be try number five.
Met three years ago, bar over in Cuttery. Tole Ma it was a dance, dance sounded nicer n bar. Erma a cute little short thing, on the slim side but not too skinny, dark hair, bob, an to this day her style ain’t changed much. Still livin with her mama an daddy, her mama originally from Texas. After three dates brung her home engaged, we both thought she was with-child. I felt love for her fast, so happy we got a excuse to tie the knot, an while I near cried when it all come to a red mass in the toilet, I wa’n’t a bit regretful she wearin that ring. When we firs tole my mother bout the engagement, she pleased as punch since she figure a daughter-in-law mean more grankids, though Benja already amply supplied her that department. Then we hear B.J. pullin up in his truck, gettin in from work. When Pa passed on he inherited his ole pickup but that died years ago an B.J. finally replaced it with somethin used in good shape. We give him the news an he smile like he spose ta, then kiss Erma on the cheek, then go up to wash up for dinner. Firs time she seen him.
He s’tall, Erma go.
Yeah, took after my pa. I’s the one got stuck at five-eight. What I don’t mention is Pa stopped at six foot, B.J. kep goin on to six-six, what I think but not say is I’m not entirely sure was our pa give B.J. that height.
Erma likes the Saturday night suppers with B.J., give her a chance to play hostess, lay out the embroidered napkins, the weddin china gravy boat her aunt give us. At the table she do the talkin, I do the hand-interpretin, B.J. do the polite listenin, readin her lips but mostly my hand. Doin it years now, sometime I lazy-man it with jus the one hand, eatin with the other, don’t even look up from my plate. Now Erma talkin bout her mother an sisters, bout the wonder a the earth pictures, bout how look like nex week Hawaii make statehood, how strange it is takin territories not land-connected an makin em states an how those people didn’t exactly look American an how forty-eight stars made a pretty flag, but since they went on an brought in Alaska this year may as well take Hawaii, make it an even fifty. My leff han flyin conveyin it all while the right feedin me mash potatas while my head plunge to the near future, the day she gonna abruptly stop the chatter, when the house go to mournin again after the baby turn to blood in the toilet again like all the re
st, then my mine roam back to that day when I firs brought her home. What’s that? she said, lookin at somethin framed.
What’s that? Read it, whatta ya think it is? I don’t say that but guess she see it in my eyes. Purse her lips. An that’s how I come to find out Erma is one hunnert percent illiterate. Cuz
is pretty damn self-explanatory.
Certificate of achievement.
Achieve what?
Upstairs is a wall picture, me a newborn. You interested? She nod eager an we climb the steps. She got shame for never catchin on to readin which is lucky cuz it keep her from ever askin bout that damn certificate again.
I use to thinka Hawaii like China, like some foreign country but now guess I better start thinkin of it like Tennessee, just another state. Whatchu smilin bout, Randall?
She snap me back to the present.
Nothin. This roase chicken sure is delicious, hon. An she grin wide cuz she see I’m interpretin, B.J. gettin what I’m sayin an he nod, agreein.
But what I was really smilin about. I remembered! Maybe I ain’t such a hopeless case, ole senile man at thirty-one can’t even recall another word for mad, sad, cuz all the sudden middle a this here dinner the vocabulary jus come floodin back! Mad: Enraged! Resentful! Bitter! Sad: Melancholy! Misery! Despair!
2
Standin near the reference table touchin that big ole globe he like, fingers grazin Russia. Anna Karenina tucked in his arm, guess he jus checked her out. Figured he be here, Wednesdays like regular. I get close enough he look up, smile. Then see my face ain’t returnin it. Benja, I sign.
Hey! You didn’t say you was bringin B.J. too, both my brothers! Come in! Hey yaw, come say hi to your uncles. Oh they was in my hair all day. Siddown, I’ll fix the coffee. This place look like a cyclone, all the damn toys Stop pullin her plait! Look at that broke fire truck. Christmas ain’t a week gone an already they done tore it all up. Destructive, that’s what yaw are! Listen Randall, sorry bout the tears over the phone, didn’t mean to be ruinin your mornin off. An B.J., ain’t Wednesday your lie-bary day? Oh you already got your book God, Randall! Look at your hands flyin: somethin else! Don’t know if I ever toldja how jealous I feel sometimes, way you kep up with the signin. B.J., remember Palm Sunday, you had to come late to supper cuz you volunteered to pick the weeds on the lie-bary grouns, so you wa’n’t here yet but Randall signin everthing automatic like you’s in the room! Like he doin now! All habit, we had the biggest laugh over that Give it back to her! Yaw stayin for dinner? Lunch, now all the kids calls it lunch. Chicken salad. Oh you all do not have to pick up that damn tree. I don’t even remember seein it fall, Aaron an me get to screamin, nex thing the tinsel flyin everywhere! Had to sweep up pieces from them glassy balls fore the kids come through. Well thank you, you didn’t have to do that, always take the tree down New Year’s anyway. Nineteen sixty. You thinka that? Two days be a whole new decade. The space age. Well listen. You don’t got ta worry, I took my medicine I’m fine now. Boy, look at your fingers move! Sorry B.J., when I got married I got busy, stopped practicin. Busy makin damn kids, five, five! I ever get pregnant again think I’ll shoot myself. No, Aaron. No, I’ll shoot us both! There! I toldja do it again yer gettin it! An shut up that damn cryin fore I give ya somethin to cry about! If ya can’t stay for dinner, at least some Oreos with your coffee. Look. Yaw gotta wipe them looks off your faces, whatchu thinkin. I do that again? Over him? He can stay out all night he wants. Sometimes I think What a fool, jus cuz he’s a good war pen pal I think that make a good husband, I shoulda married that firs bastard, one got his legs cut off, he wouldn’ta been goin nowhere. Sorry, I oughn’ta laugh! But anyway, yaw ain’t got to be all concerned about me. See? I ain’t touched my bandages, I can tell my wrists is healin. An Aaron ain’t touched me neither. Not since he seen I am serious with a razor. Sorry, that ain’t funny! Butcha know, maybe it ain’t such a terrible thing, lass week. I ain’t gonna do it again! Don’t worry! But what I’m sayin is maybe it scared him, make him think twice before ballin up his fists so fast. Ain’t that a blip? He out trackin pussy an I call him on it, then I’m the one kissin knuckles! I wanna go to the pictures! Yaw wanna go to the pictures? I wanna see The Hanging Tree! I wanna see Gary Cooper, yaw wanna come? You can do the signs for B.J.! So nice we went lass year, that was the firs time I went to the pictures in I don’t know when! Break another crayon, see whatchu get. An you’re the oldest Leslie Jo, you know better. I like goin to the pictures with my brothers but wouldn’t ya think my husband take me out sometime? The Streetcar Name Desire! remember that one? I sure like Marlon Brando. Cep that ole man behind us, hard a hearin, his wife whisperin everthing to him, drive me nuts! See, with B.J. you jus sign, yaw don’t disturb nobody Bed! All a yaw! Right now, goddammit! What was the name a that actress played Stella? Stella! Him callin. Stella! Stella! I said bed! No matter how bad he treat her she always remember Marlon got his good side too.
