Gone Fishin’ er-6

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Gone Fishin’ er-6 Page 10

by Walter Mosley


  ‘Easy, you cain’t be worried ‘bout every little thing,’ Mouse was saying. We were in my house drinking beer from green quart bottles.

  “Cause a po’ man ain’t got that kinda a lux’ry. Shit! If all you got is two po’k chops an’ ten chirren what you gonna do?’

  I waited for him to answer the question but he didn’t. He just stood up and walked out of the house. He was laughing to himself. I could feel the sweat pouring down my face.

  Chapter 12

  ‘Res’ now, Easy,’ Jo said.

  She was swaying in a homemade rocker at the foot of the bed; a giant mother in a child’s small room. The chair and the floor creaked as she moved forward and back.

  There was vapour rising from behind her. The room was hot.

  ‘Water,’ I croaked. I didn’t even recognise my own voice.

  When she rose I was filled with awe at the size and might of her. I remembered the armadillos and that severed head. It was nighttime again and felt like I was back in the bayou, out behind those stunted pears.

  She lifted my head to pour water into my mouth from a liquor bottle. She’d tip a spoonful in and wait for me to swallow, then she’d pour another one. When the water hit my empty stomach I got small cramps that quivered down through the intestines. But I didn’t complain - the water tasted too good for any complaints.

  ‘You been real sick, baby. Ev’rybody been worried. Dom an’ Mouse an’ li’l ole Ernestine. You had us all goin’.’

  ‘How long?’

  ‘It’s just been twenty-four hours but it was close. If I had come in the next morning rather than right after Sunday school we’d be plannin’ yo’ funeral right now. It’s been comin’ on ya for a few days. Miss Alexander say you was drinkin’ an’ I was mad that she let you do it.’

  When she stroked my face I felt the rasp of my stubble against her hand.

  I fell asleep with my head on her lap.

  Later I woke up and she was still cradling me. I was so happy then.

  ‘Thank you,’ I said.

  She grinned at me. ‘Baby, you better rest some more. The fever gone but you still weak, it could come back, and it’s always harder gettin’ rid’a it the second time.’

  ‘What is it?’

  ‘I seen it before. It’s a kind of poison that gets in ya an’ acks like grippe but it ain’t. You gotta use some old-time medicine to get that. Lucky you got ole Momma Jo t’fix ya.’

  I pressed my head against her thigh and she smiled down on me like she had smiled down on Raymond when I first saw her in the woods.

  When I woke again it was night. Jo was rocking and embroidering. I thought it was strange that a woman like her would take up needle and thread.

  ‘Could I have some water please, Jo?’ I said.

  ‘How you doin’, Easy?’ She brought me the liquor bottle.

  ‘Fine.’

  ‘You lookin’ good. I guess we gonna have you a li’l while longer, huh?’

  ‘I guess.’ I raised myself to be fed the water and then laid back.

  There was still vapour rising from behind the rocker. I must’ve been staring at it because Jo said, ‘Just some herbs in water on a oil burner. Keeps it warm inside and keeps yo’ lungs dear so you don’t get pneumonia. You feel like you can have some broth, baby?

  I wasn’t hungry but I said yes, I needed some strength. I felt the life coming into me.

  Not exactly the same life I’d almost left behind.

  When Jo came back Miss Alexander stuck her head in the door and smiled. ‘Hi, Easy,’ she said. ‘Glad to see you feelin’ better.’

  Jo had a steaming bowl of beef broth with a big shank bone in it.

  She propped me on her knee and fed me spoon by spoon.

  ‘You seen Mouse?’ I asked her.

  ‘Oh yeah,’ she said reluctantly. ‘He been around. He tole me t’tell you that he’d be ready t’go when you feel better.’

  ‘Where is he?’

  ‘No tellin’ wit’ Raymond but he prob’ly wit’ some girl. I think he been hangjn’ ‘round Miss Alexander’s li’l friend - Theresa.’

  I felt a flash of jealousy but it went away as soon as it came.

  ‘So he wanna go home, huh?’ I let out a short laugh and it hurt me on my stomach. ‘I guess he finished up whatever crazy nonsense he had wit’ Reese.’

  ‘I guess so,’ Jo said as she pushed the spoon into my mouth just a little too hard. ‘So I guess you be headin’ back home when you get to your feet?’

  ‘Uh-huh, that’s right. You know Houston cain’t get along wit’out me for more’n a few days.’

  ‘Yeah.’ She smiled with me and I was glad.

  It seemed like the only thing I’d ever done was to sit alone with Jo in the night. And I was liking her pretty much then too. I was thinking about what Mouse had said about not turning up your nose at a woman like her.

  ‘Easy?’

  ‘Yeah, Jo?’

  She let my head down on the pillow and went back to her chair. She sat down with a sigh and said, ‘I been thinkin’ ‘bout what happened out to the house, baby. You know, wit’ us. And I feel kinda bad cause’a what you must be thinkin’, so I just wanna tell ya ‘bout how I feel.’

  She took a deep breath that brought me back to the night we were lovers.

  ‘You could see that I ain’t a normal woman. I got big bones and I’m taller than almost any man I ever seen. An’ I ain’t like big girls neither. Us’ally a big girl sag down an’ be quiet hopin’ that a man won’t notice her size - but I cain’t do that. I’m loud and rough and I’m pretty smart too. It’s not that I’m vain, Easy, I’m just tellin’ it like it is. I’m better than most men at bein’ like a man. Domaque was the on’y man was my match.’ She had a lost look in her eye and I knew how she felt after all I had remembered about my father and losing him. ‘And he was too good to live. On’y reason I stay out to that house is because I’d be more alone wit’ people. ‘Cause if I come in on a situation an’ I know what’s right, then I’ma do what’s right. And if a man, even a white man, stand up an’ be stupid then I just set him straight. I mean women can be wrong too an’ they can be just as dumb as any man. But a woman us’ally come around quicker than a man ‘cause if you hurt a man’s pride you might as well give up on him ever thinkin’ right.

  ‘Mens don’t like a woman big as I am, not if they manlike too. They wanna feel they power but they don’t want none’a yours. But I could see you wasn’t like that.’ She gave me that shy smile. ‘They is somethin’ diffrent in you, Easy, somethin’ soft. It’s like you looked at me an’ said, “Okay this here is one big woman; now let’s get on wit’ it.” An’ you didn’t worry ‘bout it no more. You didn’t look at me wit’ them big eyes like you was scared or like I’m a animal you gotta train. I liked that.

  ‘That’s why I done that mess wit’ Ernestine an’ that sour boy she was wit’.’

  I thought about Domaque and Clifton then.

  ‘What’s she gonna do now that Clifton’s gone?

  ‘She wanna learn some things I know an’...’ She looked down and smiled. ‘She been goin’ out to Dom’s house t’pick flowers wit’ him. I cain’t hope she gonna be no more than friends wit’ him but Dom sure could use the company.’

  ‘I like you, Jo.’ I held my hand out to her. She came over to hold it.

  ‘That’s all I wanted, baby. I know I shouldn’ta done what I did. I wanted you t’be my friend. I mean I cain’t ask you to wanna be out here wit’ me...’ she said, but there was hope in her voice.

  ‘I couldn’t, Jo. I mean, I could love you but it would turn out bad.’ I wanted to say yes, to say that Mouse was right.

  ‘I gotta stand up fo’myself, Jo, an’ I just couldn’t do that wit’ you, out here.’ I should have just said that she was too much woman for me - that’s what I felt. I lied about everything back then. There just wasn’t any truth to be had.

  We talked for a long time, about everything. She told me stories about her and how sh
e kept things going out around Pariah. She delivered babies, made potions, and settled disputes. I told her about wanting to read and about women I’d known. We were fast friends, holding hands and talking the night away.

  But whenever I’d mention Mouse she started talking about something else. She told no stories about him when he lived there and if I asked she’d just say, ‘Oh you know Raymond; he ain’t nuthin’ but bad news wit’ a grin.’

  Finally I asked, ‘How come you won’t talk about him?’

  ‘I don’t wanna be thinkin’ ‘bout Raymond now, Easy. I know he yo’ frien’ an’ I ain’t got nuthin’ good t’say.’

  ‘But he brung that girl down.’

  ‘I’m thankful fo’ Ernestine but Raymond din’t make her. An’ all his foolin’ ‘round ain’t helpin’ my boy.’

  ‘What he do?’

  ‘I don’t know nuthin’ ‘bout what Raymond be doin’.’

  ‘But I bet you could guess.’ I smiled at her but she didn’t smile back.

  ‘All I know is that I seen Raymond an’ that Clifton headed out Blacksmith Row, out toward Reese Corn’s place. They left when the sun was goin’ down.’

  The tone in her voice spoke of violence. All the drowsy recuperation in my brain burned off like morning mist. Sweat formed on my forehead and hands. I gulped once because of the nausea that accompanied the decision I made.

  My stomach rumbled.

  ‘You hungry, huh, Easy?’Jo asked.

  ‘Yeah, yeah. Hey, Jo, could you go’n get me sumpin’ t’eat?’

  ‘I got some bread an’ fruit right here in my basket.’

  ‘Naw,’ I said. The sick frown on my face came naturally from the sour pitch in my gut. ‘Couldn’t you go’n get me some hot soup or sumpin’?’

  ‘It’s late, Easy,’ she whispered, to show me that she was afraid of waking people up.

  I stared at her while thinking about my own dangerous purposes.

  Maybe it was the fear showing through my eyes that moved Jo.

  ‘Okay,’ she said. ‘I’ll go see what I can find.’

  She kissed me. It was the natural brush of lips against skin. I imagined prehistoric wolves making the same gesture with their snouts before they howled as men, women, and children sat shivering in their caves.

  Chapter 13

  I counted to ten and pushed myself up out of the bed. I fell to the floor before I could manage even one step. It felt like I should have been able to walk but my legs just wouldn’t listen.

  There, on my knees on the floor, I noticed the broad cloth bandage held to my stomach by a thick gray goo slathered around the edges. I leaned back against the bed and pulled the cloth away.

  The skin underneath was puckered and discolored. Under the cloth was a stack of leaves and twigs; in the middle of that nest was a dead toad.

  The toad was plump and looked almost as if it were still alive. When it fell away I saw that there was an open cut in the shape of a cross, two inches either way, above my navel. The toad’s belly had an identical cut.

  I came around the side of Miss Alexander’s place and turned left. When I got to the end of the street I turned right and walked until I came to a pecan tree. Two houses past that was a small cabin, a hut really.

  My knock was answered almost immediately in spite of the late hour.

  ‘Who is it?’

  ‘It’s Easy Rawlins, Theresa,’ I said through the rough-hewn plank door.

  When she pushed the door open I was forced to take a step backwards. She was wearing a burlap sack with holes cut for her head and arms. The candle she held showed me that the holes for her arms were a little too big, I could see her left breast sticking out of the side.

  ‘What you want, Easy?’

  ‘Raymond here?’

  No words came to her.

  ‘I asked you is Raymond here, Theresa.’

  She shook her head and it was my turn to keep quiet.

  ‘He gone out to Reese,’ she said at last.

  I was staring at her breast and thinking that Raymond would have called me a fool for worrying about things that were none of my business. Then Theresa pointed out the way to me when I told her that Raymond would be mad if she didn’t.

  I made it out the slim passage through the woods thinking about all the steps I’d taken to bring me to that path. It came to me that it all started when my father ran away from that butcher and out of my life. He never called for us. One day I came home from school and our neighbour was waiting there for me. When she told me that my mother had some kind of stroke I wasn’t even surprised. I had expected her to leave too.

  I’ve been counting my steps from that day to this one. From Louisiana to Texas; from childhood to being a man.

  I wasn’t quite yet a man as I walked down that country path. But I was headed for maturity. I had driven Mouse out there and anything he did was a reflection on me.

  It was the noble thought of a fool.

  Dawn was filling the woods with a cold glow when I heard the voices. One of them was Mouse, his hard-edged voice loud and threatening. I couldn’t understand his words but at least I knew they were words, spoken to be understood.

  The reply was a single note of rage.

  I followed the murderous sound even though I knew I should have gone the way of my father.

  I came to a stand of cherry trees on a small hill above Reese Corn’s place. Clifton and Mouse were standing near a large woven bamboo basket. Mouse was holding his big .41 over his head while cocking his head to make sense out of the scream, which was coming from the basket.

  Clifton was armed with a shotgun, he was holding it by the twin barrels.

  ‘What’s that you say, Reese?’ Mouse shouted at the basket.

  I could see the lid stuttering against the latches it had been secured with. I was dose enough to hear the pounding blows. Reese must have done that with his head and shoulders and back.

  It was a large basket but Reese would have had to squat down, hugging his knees and bowing his head, for them to have closed the lid.

  ‘Let’im go, man!’ Clifton shouted. ‘Let’im go!’

  The next thing Clifton, or I, knew, Mouse had his pistol pointed at the boy’s nose. Raymond said something but I couldn’t make it out.

  I took a step from the stand of trees. Clifton bowed his head. Reese Corn bellowed. The sun, which wasn’t the least bit concerned with that drama, peeked down through the mist.

  I took another step and stopped.

  Mouse turned to the basket and shouted, mimicking Reese’s hoarse rage. The basket shook from the internal blows.

  I had taken three steps when Mouse started kicking the basket. I felt that if I walked slowly and calmly into that situation I could stop all the hostile activities. I honestly believed that I could calm Mouse down and bring Reese around to reason.

  Maybe I could have done all that.

  ‘Let’im alone!’ Clifton shouted.

  The boy thrust out his free hand and grabbed Raymond just when he was in the middle of a kick. The kick went wide, slamming against one of the bamboo latches that secured the lid.

  Mouse hit the ground squeezing off a shot that hit the ground not two feet to my left.

  The lid to the basket popped off and daddyReese Corn came out like a leaping jack-in-the-box. Blacker than Momma Jo and naked, Reese went at the first target he saw — Clifton.

  Clifton.

  The only thought in my mind was to save that sour boy’s life. I ran full out with my eyes wide and focused on the men.

  Clifton took a step backwards and raised the shotgun by the barrel, like a dub. And then Reese was on him.

  The gun seemed to leap into Reese’s hand of its own accord. It twisted like a snake and Reese’s hand was at the trigger.

  I yelled.

  Clifton did too. Then the blast hit him.

  Mouse had made it to his feet but Reese was faster that day.

  Reese turned toward his stepson before Clifton hit the ground. M
ouse fired but Reese ducked low and rammed Raymond with his shoulder.

  Mouse’s second shot went somewhere in the trees.

  There was no savouring the moment for daddyReese. Mouse was rolling away on the ground, toward his dropped pistol. Reese was drawing his bead.

  Neither one of them heard me coming on.

  I had no plan, or dexterity to execute a plan if I had one. I didn’t grab Reese. I didn’t even tackle him. I simply ran into him like a fool running into a brick wall.

  I felt the recoil before hearing the shotgun blast.

  The air went out of my lungs and the ground came up to meet my face.

  ‘Easy,’ he said softly. ‘Easy, wake up.’

  Mouse was squatting down next to me. Beyond him I could make out a black arm sprawled on the ground.

  Mouse pulled me up by my shirt. When I was standing I looked down on Reese. A large part of his left temple was gone. The shotgun lay at his side.

  Clifton hadn’t died all at once. He’d been gut-shot. He’d ripped off his shirt and pulled down his pants to try and do something about the wound. He died with both hands trying to push the intestines back into his body.

  Mouse’s pistol lay near Clifton’s shoulder.

  ‘Come on, Easy. We got to get outta here.’ I was light-headed, staggering behind Raymond. Many times I stopped because there was something I had to remember and I couldn’t walk and remember at the same time. Whatever it was I needed to recall was like a reflection in water and every step I took sent ripples across the image. So I’d stop. But before the image came dear Mouse would shake me and say, ‘Come on, Easy, we ain’t got time t’play.’ I remember walking behind him, seeing that he still had that tan rucksack hanging from his shoulder. It looked like it was stuffed with clothes. No more Johnnie Walker.

  Mouse brought me in the back way of his aunt’s store. I went to my little room and stretched out on the thin mattress. I dreamed that I was a stone in a field lodged among different kinds of grasses. The growth of the grass made the scrunching sound that a finger makes when it’s pressed across the tight skin of a drum. By midsummer the grass had grown over me and I was in the dark shade of towering blades of green.

 

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