The Man in My Basement
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played.
19
Clarance and I had had these fights for more than 20
twenty-five years. I could still get to him. I regretted it 21
every time. But all Clarance had to do was be himself and 22
he made me mad. He’d always done better than I had. He 23
held a good job as the daytime dispatcher for a colored 24
cab company. He was married, but he still had more girl-25
friends than I did. He read the newspaper every day and 26
was always referring to events in the world to prove a S 27
R 28
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point when we were discussing politics or current affairs.
2
Even though I had made it through three years of college, 3
Clarance always seemed to know more.
4
For a while there I had a subscription to the New York 5
Times just so I could compete. But I never actually read 6
the paper. Sometimes I’d try to do the crossword puzzle, 7
but that just made me feel stupid. Finally, after losing my 8
job at the bank, I let the subscription go.
9
I did some things better than Clarance. I was good at 10
sports. But he wouldn’t compete with me there. He said I 11
was better than him but I couldn’t get a scholarship or 12
anything. And he was right. Like my uncle Brent was al-13
ways happy to say, “He could win the race, but he cain’t 14
beat the clock.”
15
So I tortured Clarance now and then, angry at him for 16
proving my inadequacies.
17
18
19
There were certain benefits to an early evening. The first 20
thing was that there was more than half the fifth of 21
whisky left over. I loved to drink. Loved it. But I didn’t 22
abuse alcohol. I never drank before the sun went down 23
and never drove while under the influence. Every once in 24
a while I’d make Ricky and Clarance sleep over when they 25
got too tipsy on a Thursday night.
26
You’d think I’d want to spend the evening with my 27 S
friends. As it was I spent almost every night alone, listening 28 R
to the radio or reading science fiction. I never got into the 12
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The Man in My Basement
TV habit. I’d watch the news now and then, but that was 1
mainly to keep up with Clarance. Most nights I spent alone, 2
except when I had a girlfriend. But the last girlfriend I had 3
was Laura Wright. That had ended some months before.
4
It was mostly just me in the big house. The rooms were 5
large, with big bay windows everywhere. When I was 6
alone I’d wander around in my underwear, talking to my-7
self or reading about outer space. Those were the best mo-8
ments I had. With the evening spread out in front of me, 9
maybe with some music playing and a few shots of bour-10
bon, I had all the time I needed to think.
11
I couldn’t think when I was around people. In company 12
I was always talking, always telling a joke or laughing at 13
one. My uncle Brent used to say that my mouth was my 14
biggest problem. “Boy,” he’d say while sitting in the re-15
clining chair in the den, “if you could just learn to be quiet 16
for a minute, you might hear something worthwhile.”
17
My mother said that I was supposed to love Uncle 18
Brent, but he was hard on children. Brent came to live 19
with us after he had what my mother called a case of nerves.
20
There wasn’t much wrong with him that I could see, but 21
after his attack he came to live in our house. He kept the 22
garden in the spring and summer and sat in the old chair 23
in what used to be my father’s library. But my father was 24
dead by then and Uncle Brent called the library his den.
25
Brent loved to tell me what was wrong with me. I 26
talked too much, I didn’t study enough, I didn’t respect S 27
authority, and I was way too dark for the genteel colored R 28
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community of Forest Cove. That was down in South Car-2
olina, where Brent was born. Brent himself was a deep-3
brown color, with thick lips that were always turned 4
down as if he had a bad taste in his mouth. The only hint 5
he gave of being sick was that it took him a long time to 6
get out of his chair.
7
So when my mother was out and he’d let loose with one 8
of his insults, I’d say, “Fuck you, old man,” and walk 9
slowly away while he struggled to get up and after me.
10
Once outside I’d tear through the backyard and into the 11
family graveyard. From there I’d make it into the ancient 12
stand of sixty-two oaks that my great-great-grandfather 13
Willam P. Dodd planted.
14
That night in my house, wandering completely naked 15
through the half-dark rooms, I thought about how much 16
fun it was to torture my mean old uncle. When I’d es-17
caped into the dark-green shadows of those gnarly old 18
trees, I’d get the giggles from excitement. Sometimes Brent 19
would stand out on the back porch and yell for me, but 20
he didn’t dare to wander off from the house.
21
He never told my mother about my curses though. I 22
think it was because he was ashamed at not being able to 23
control a child.
24
The night after the day I met Mr. Anniston Bennet was 25
the first time I’d ever missed Uncle Brent. It had been 26
more than a decade, and I just then marked his passing.
27 S
28 R
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I still sleep in my childhood room — in the same bed.
C 14
The window faces east and the sun streams through 15
every morning, my natural alarm. That Friday I woke up 16
with a headache and a hard-on. I’d been dreaming about 17
Laura, about how she was so excited when I’d carry her 18
up the stairs.
19
I had to go to the toilet, but I was dizzy. I wanted to jerk 20
off, but my head hurt too much for that. I made myself get 21
up and walk down the second-floor hall to the toilet. It 22
was difficult keeping it in the bowl because the erection 23
was persistent. Even when I finished, it stayed hard.
24
I went back to bed with the intention
of masturbating, 25
but my headache just got worse, and the thought of 26
Laura, as exciting as it was, also made me nauseous.
S 27
Finally I got dressed and went downstairs to the R 28
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kitchen. I wanted coffee, but the percolator was dirty and 2
the sink was full of greasy dishes. There were also dirty 3
dishes piled on the table and sink. I looked at the mess for 4
a while and decided that it was too much for me to do be-5
fore I had my morning coffee. And so I got my Dodge 6
from the garage and drove down to the Corners for coffee 7
and crumb cake at Hannah and Company.
8
9
10
“Morning, Mr. Blakey,” Tina Gramble said. She was Han-11
nah’s niece, a blond girl with tan skin. She was from a local 12
family and therefore accepted me as part of the commu-13
nity. Being a Negro, I was different. We would never be real 14
friends. But neither of us really wanted that, nor did we feel 15
left out of something. And so it was pleasant when we did 16
cross paths. Good morning meant just that.
17
“Hey, Tina. Could I get some coffee and cake?”
18
“You look like you could use it,” she said, managing to 19
smile and look concerned at the same time.
20
“Thursday night is blackjack night at my house.”
21
“Hope you won.”
22
“Big.”
23
24
25
After my coffee I drove down to the old highway, a graded 26
dirt road that led to Canyon’s Field. It was the shortcut 27 S
that would take me most of the way to Wilson Ryder’s 28 R
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construction site. The Ryder family had lived in the Har-1
bor for more than 150 years, a long time but not nearly as 2
long as my folks had been around. But you couldn’t tell 3
them that. Wilson liked to tell people that his family helped 4
to settle the east end of the island.
5
Both sides of my family had lived in that area as early as 6
1742. The Blakeys were indentured servants who earned 7
their freedom. The Dodds were free from the beginning.
8
It was even hinted that they, the Dodds, came straight 9
from Africa at the beginning of the eighteenth century.
10
My parents were both very proud that their ancestors 11
were never slaves. The only time I had ever seen my father 12
get angry was when Clarance’s father once asked him, 13
“How can you be sure that one’a them Blakeys you so 14
proud of wasn’t a slave at one time or other?”
15
It was a lovely ride. The woods were deep and green 16
down that way. There were three or four ponds in walking 17
distance from the side of the road. I decided that I’d go 18
fishing after asking Wilson for a job. I planned to tell him 19
that I could begin working that next Monday. That way I 20
could have a long weekend before going back to a job.
21
A group of eight or nine deer was crossing the road a 22
ways up from me. I came to a stop and so did they. The big 23
female looked at me with hard eyes, trying to glean my in-24
tentions. A sigh escaped my throat. I loved to watch deer 25
watching me. They were so timid and ignorant of every-26
thing but the possible threat. People think that they’re cow-S 27
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ardly, but I’ve been charged by a male or two. I respected 2
them, because with no defense except for their quick feet, 3
they lived out in the wild with no law or protection.
4
I once saw a group of fifteen or more of them swim-5
ming out to Shelter Island. Their heads just above the 6
water, they looked frightened and desperate out there.
7
Cowards don’t face terror. Cowards live on back roads, 8
behind closed doors, with the TVs blasting out anything 9
to keep the silence and the darkness from intruding.
10
The deer’s caution made them move slower than they 11
would have without my presence. I enjoyed the show.
12
When the final white tail bobbed off into the wood, I was 13
thoroughly satisfied.
14
My uncle Brent had been a hunter before he got sick.
15
He killed hundreds of deer down in South Carolina, 16
where he’d lived with his third wife.
17
“Hunt for the weekend hunters,” he’d tell me in one of his 18
few friendly moods. “Kill six bucks and make two forty.”
19
When I was a child I imagined that the deer used to sur-20
round our house in the evening, hoping that Brent would 21
come outside for a walk. Then they could stomp him to 22
death for the crimes he’d committed against their race.
23
24
25
“Chuck,” Wilson Ryder said. The tone of his voice mim-26
icked surprise, but it was also leveled at me offensively.
27 S
“Mr. Ryder,” I said in greeting. I hated the name Chuck.
28 R
And he knew it because I had asked him not to call me by 18
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that name eighteen years before when I had my first sum-1
mer job working for his family’s construction company.
2
Wilson Ryder was an older white man with yellowish 3
white hair and a big gut. His family had been in con-4
struction for three generations. Young men in my family 5
had worked for his family almost the whole time. He had 6
gray eyes, and fingers covered with yellow-and-black cal-7
luses from hard work and cigarettes.
8
We were standing in a wide circle of yellow soil that had 9
been cleared out of a scrub-pine stand. The trees stood in 10
an angry arc three hundred yards from the center of the 11
circle. There were the beginnings of excavation here and 12
there. Enough to give you the idea of the cul-de-sac of 13
mansions that the Ryder family intended to build. They 14
would level the whole island and sell it off stone by stone 15
if they could.
16
“What can I do for you?” Ryder asked me.
17
“I’d like a job, Mr. Ryder.”
18
His gray eyes squinted a hundredth of an inch, maybe 19
less, but it was enough to say that he wasn’t going to hire 20
me. Even more than that, the pained wince said that he 21
wouldn’t hire me, not bec
ause there was no job but be-22
cause there was something wrong somewhere — some-23
thing wrong with me.
24
“You would?” He smiled. There was a yellowy tint to Ry-25
der’s teeth too. All that yellow made me feel a little nauseous.
26
“Yes, sir,” I said, hating myself for it.
S 27
The squint again. This time a little more pronounced.
R 28
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There were men working on one of the excavations be-2
hind the builder, to his right. One man had stopped dig-3
ging and was looking at me. He was black, I could tell 4
that, but I couldn’t make out his features in the distance.
5
“You worked at that bank, didn’t you, Chuck?”
6
“Charles,” I said. “My name is Charles. And yeah, I 7
worked at Harbor Savings.”
8
“Why’d you leave there?”
9
“Let me go. I don’t know. Downsizing, I guess.”
10
Ryder’s eyes were very expressive. He was the man in 11
charge and not used to lying. I could see that he was won-12
dering if I believed my own words. That, of course, made 13
me question myself.
14
“No jobs,” he said with a one-shoulder shrug.
15
I could tell that Ryder wanted me to disappear, just as I 16
had felt about the white man at my door the day before.
17
But I wasn’t going to go away that easily. My family had 18
given Wilson’s grandfather one of his first jobs. My grand-19
mother delivered Wilson’s brother and sister. He couldn’t 20
whisper two words and expect me to go away just like 21
that.
22
“Well?” he said.
23
“I thought you had just started hiring.”
24
“It’s hard times, Charlie,” he said. “You got to get there 25
first if you want to work nowadays.”
26
“But somebody told me last night that you’d still be hir-27 S
ing today.”
28 R
“Well,” Ryder began. He was ready to carry his lie further.
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But then he looked at me, really I think he was looking at 1
himself, wondering why the hell he was going through all 2
those changes over some unemployed local Negro.