Victor Lavalle - Slapboxing with Jesus

— Do something else, I said.

— Like what? He laughed. You know another girl with an apartment in Manhattan?

I held the door and shoved him inside; the place was spare: posters of healthy-looking guys carrying guns or swords, their hats bright as the white of a boiled egg were the only decorations; there were three desks, and behind each a smiling serviceman, one black, one white, one Latino. I was surprised by the efficiency. They had the major constituencies covered. A couch sat to the right, in front of it a small table with magazines neatly stacked. The white guy started pitching, — Well hello, gentlemen.

The black Marine looked at me. — You two here to join us?

I thought, Not me, pawn; I said, — Not me. My friend. The four of them smiled like this fact alone deserved praise. The white Marine said, — Call me Dan, to Ahab. It’s good to see a young man like you ready to make some money, have some fun. Do something.

— Yeah, Ahab said. One of my boys is a Marine.

Sanford was the Marine we all knew. Each time he had leave he’d come see his family, then all the fellas. Every visit he was displaying something new. The last time had been a gray Suzuki Samurai. Everyone’s parents owned cars, but it’s one thing to borrow your mother’s Accord and another to have one. This is not a small prize. Just Sanford had done much to make the Army, Marines, Air Force, whatever, more appealing.

— Good pussy in Germany, Dan said. Ahab nodded at this fact brought out from nowhere. Dan had a funny smile, he moved it around his face so he always looked a little stupid. It was ingenious. He wasn’t intimidating that way, it made his jokes seem funnier. I wondered if that was part of recruiter’s training. Dan asked my boy his name.

— Ahab, he said. He was used to the quizzical look all three Marines wore. My parents liked books.

Dan smiled. — Well, Ahab, let me tell you what fun is. Fun is running up in some pretty little Filipino girl and leaving the next day.

The Latino Marine said, from his desk, — Filipino girls. Those women are strictly fine. His nose was twisted to the left, he’d broken it a few too many times. It sat there on his face, his only medal.

The room wasn’t small, so when I asked a question I had to shout. — So we spend billions just to get American boys foreign pussy?

Even Ahab, they all watched me like they were waiting to hear what was so hard to believe. Ahab was angry with me, he shook his head with Dan the way two doctors might over a patient long past saving. I shrugged. The one with the busted nose said to Ahab, — I think your friend needs a little …, then he punched the air twice.

Standing and smiling, I said, — That’s perfect! Don’t say anything else, please.

The black Marine was a clod; he was scowling at me as though I was embarrassing him. I walked outside, down the block to the store I’d come for, a Lechter’s that sold better wares than the cheap imitations on Jamaica Avenue. I wanted to surprise Melissa with something, even as simple as a cutting board, just to show her I was serious about making a home. Inside the store I looked at bread baskets and salad forks. In one aisle I passed two guys, my age, unpacking boxes. One was promising that kids from Hollis were going to take care of some people in Queens Village. How many times had I been around this nonsense? Brothers from Laurelton fighting ones out of Rosedale, the same between South Jamaica and Rochdale. The fights were all the same. Queens is huge. Of all the boroughs, it is the only city to stand on its own. Manhattan pretends at self-reliance. You hear of one borough battling another, Brooklyn vs. the Bronx, like that, but here, Queens has enough of its own. We don’t need to import enemies. Among ourselves we’ve got all the fights we can handle.

Horse dragged me out to Rockaway Beach. We took a bus. He looked stupid because he carried a red T-shirt the whole time, some shit balled up inside. He said it was for me. The whole way I was bugging him to let me see, a peek. But he’d always been stubborn, it’s the one damn thing I’d have been happy to see change. I looked at the shirt again. — Now?

— Will you shut up?

It was daytime, a Wednesday. To get to the beach we crossed a parking lot that was empty. There were streetlamps every twenty feet, for night, but one was on anyway, burning so hard you could hear it. Horse led me to the boardwalk and up the steps. I’d heard of rides and games somewhere out here, but Horse, like usual now, corrected me, told me I was thinking of Coney Island. He stopped at a bench, sat. The sun was mild, not that bright shit to make you put up your hands before you go fucking blind. Then Horse spoke:

— You know this is about to be it, I said, enough gravity in my voice that Ahab leaned left, pulled closer. A few hundred yards down, someone drove his truck onto the sand. A couple appeared. They started walking away. They didn’t hold hands; she trailed after him but was in no hurry to catch up. Another couple, in the Jeep, were going at it. I turned to Ahab, said, I’m going to marry Melissa.

He nodded. — Sometimes I think everyone’s fucking but me.

The way Ahab answered me, I understood what he thought I was into Melissa for, that in important ways, he didn’t know me. The ocean was a terrible color but its noise was soothing. It made only one sound: the constancy of the shore coming back again and once more, always trying (maybe this time) to stay. You had to admire that kind of tenacity. I said, — How long was that contract you signed? Three years?

Ahab laughed and spat. — Yeah, you know, I’m just using those bitches for that paycheck. It don’t mean nothing.

I shook my head. How could I explain it to him? All our lives I knew where we’d be hanging out, what girls were coming to a party. Despite the Marines or maybe because of, I was pretty sure all those stupid distractions of our childhood would keep Ahab happy for another six decades. Really, even joining the military was just his way to get anonymous sex and a regular paycheck for mindless work. Since last week at the recruiter’s office, I’d been trying to convince him he could get both those silly goals fulfilled staying right where he was. Why add the slim chance you might lose your life? I asked often. Stay where you are. I said, — That sounds like a great way to live, for a paycheck.

I wanted to smack Horse. I was getting tired of sitting next to him, but then he unwrapped that old shirt and inside: a miniature of a giant warship — guns pointed forward, waiting to spit shells at the enemy, fuck up their towns.

He said, — For you, A, like when you’re on board and that ship seems so huge, you can look at this and remember what the whole thing looks like. So it doesn’t seem so immense. Horse passed it to me. The thing was heavy for the size. I tossed it from hand right to hand left.

Horse punched me in the arm. — It was this or buy you a copy of “In the Navy,” but that might get you in trouble with your shipmates.

I watched him some more. The Marines had been filling my face with this talk of honor and power. Pride. It was swimming in my eyelids as I held this insult. Then I cocked my arm and gave one good toss. It almost reached the water. I said, — I’m in the fucking Marines. You even remember who I am?

Horse stood. — See, he said, now we have to go and get it. And he was right, of course. Even as it had been flying I knew I’d want it forever, a gift from my only true friend. Horse started walking to the steps.

We should have taken the stairs but Ahab was climbing the rails. To the top (there were three) and from there he, then me, plunked forward and down. Fifteen feet. When he landed he rolled into it like he’d already started practicing these things. Like he was having fantasies of bravery. When I landed I caught all those stinging kisses in my ankles. But one hop and we were on our feet, running quickly in the sand so greedy for our sneakers. Ahab and I reached the shore; there was the boat, beached; the sea came close, brushed against the bow. But our sudden movements hadn’t put energy in Ahab alone, I was feeling something. I reached down and held the model, raised my arm and sent it out to the green, green water. When it landed it had gone so far you didn’t even hear it splash. I looked at him and smiled with the challenge.