Victor Lavalle - Slapboxing with Jesus

I rolled my eyes; the T.V. was still shouting, fighting with the radio I’d left on in the kitchen. Plus Ray was singing while he washed, no shame, like how hard he sang made up for how bad. — I don’t want to hear this shit today, K. I laughed at him, but who was I fooling? I loved it; I was ready to be convinced.

K could see this. He said, — You seen how many times Osiris got shot by the cops? Like forty-one.

I laughed. — Even these crazy-ass New York cops couldn’t get away with that much.

He shrugged. — It was a lot, forty-one, fourteen. They shot him and he didn’t die, motherfuckers told me he didn’t even fall down. You tell me, what normal man’s going to walk away from that? He has to be God manifested on Earth and that’s what I am and that’s what you are. Come to one cipher and build, just listen to the brothers and you’ll believe.

Whenever I was ordering a new rearview mirror for a ’92 Escort, I wanted to hear K’s speeches deifying us again. If he wasn’t around I’d tell them to myself. Then, if I was feeling really charged, I’d shut my eyes, had faith that if I could think of enough good things to do I’d be God when I opened them again. I’d always start small: the complete Sherlock Holmes series with Basil Rathbone and Nigel Bruce would run on channel 13 every day; I wouldn’t be going bald anymore; the rent for everyone on our block paid for the next twenty years; more trees would grow through the concrete; Ray would actually get to be an airline pilot. Each time it failed I didn’t lose enthusiasm, I just hadn’t dreamed up anything big enough. To be God you had to think larger.

K looked out the window. — Only thing that’d keep people calm today is clouds.

He gave me an idea. I shut my eyes. I waved my hand and thought, Rain; nothing happened. I shrugged. K started telling me something else, that Keisha knew I was cheating, that she was tired of it. I sat down, trapped again by earthly pressures.

— Where’d you hear all this? I asked.

— Her cousin.

— Alice.

— Nah. He smiled. The other one, Ayanah.

— Since when you been tight with her?

— Since she’s been getting the essence of the God! K squeezed at his dick. He laughed and me with him.

— You’re hitting that? I thought it was you and Alice? And you’re trying to talk to me about being faithful?

He shrugged. — The God must spread his seed.

— See that, I said. Even the righteous brothers are wack.

He sat up. In his open mouth I could see the food being chewed. — Don’t kid yourself, so are these women. They both have men, but look, they still come to me.

— That’s real deep, I said.

— Don’t roll your eyes, K protested. I’m dropping bombs and your mind can’t handle it.

— Most you’re dropping, I pointed out, is those UPS packages while you’re working.

As soon as I stepped out these two were all over me, Ray being loud, — Damn! And I thought I took a long-ass time. Someone had turned on the fan, set it on the sill in the living room where those two sat. It was September. Cold air lanced our apartment, strong enough it might have peeled paint loose, blown bugs from their corners. I was in my towel, still wet. Between them sat the bowl of eggs my girl had made for me; they had been reduced to nothing but their grayish-white shells in a messy pile.

— Man, K said, put your shirt on. No one here wants to see your scrawny chest.

— You dream about this shit right here, I said, pointed to my pecs, flexed my arms.

— Damn Sean, K said. You been working out.

I got thrown but he seemed serious. — Well, I been doing push-ups.

They turned to each other, started laughing. K hopped up, flexing. — Well, I been doing push-ups, he said, sounding like a faggot. Our living room wasn’t worth much, the ceiling creaked if you bumped into the light that hung down on a wire.

— What’s your cousin’s name? I asked Ray

— Ramon?

— No, no, Chocolate or something. I pointed to my face like that might give Ray a better idea.

— Yeah. Cocoa. You got something to tell me about my cousin?

— Not him, his boy who I see all over, all fucked up.

Ray nodded. — I know who you mean, that kid is bad news.

I scratched my head. — I saw him when I bought some pants for tonight, uptown, hanging on to a phone booth like he was going to die if he let go. He was looking rough. I was standing right next to him.

Some people were always reminding you how close you were to falling off. The thought of him put a little fear in me. I took the phone down to my room and called Keisha. While it rang I folded the clothes I’d washed yesterday. Some of them were still a little wet and this pissed me off because I’d spent a whole hour with them in the dryers. Instead of hanging them out to dehydrate I creased them up and put them in their drawers. I saw this as some kind of punishment. They’d smell a little when I took them out, the fabric would wear out sooner and it would be me who’d pay for it, but I couldn’t stop myself. I shoved them in like they were headstrong children determined to do their own thing. I slammed the drawers closed like I was locking the clothes in a room. Keisha’s mother answered. — Hello Miss Bonyers, I said.

— Oh, hi Sean.

I laughed. — No one’s too happy to hear from me today.

— Keisha’s not here, she exhaled. She turned her mouth from the phone but I heard the light pull on a cigarette. Her voice was soft, showed no sign of the good thirty years she’d been doing that.

— Do you think she’ll be back soon? I asked.

She considered it. — Keisha’s in class right now, I think. At the college.

I nodded, looked around the room for my pick. — Could you tell her I called?

— Sean, you know she’ll be graduating in two years. From college, I’m saying. She deserves something good. You understand what I mean?

We’d known each other for a long time. When I was moving into this place, after high school, she and Keisha had helped me pack some things. Keisha and I had just been friends then. Her mother told me it was a good thing for a man to get out someway when he turned eighteen.

— I know what you’re telling me Miss Bonyers. Keisha could do better.

She didn’t even inhale again for thirty or forty seconds. — No, Sean. You didn’t hear me. That’s not what I meant.

I sat quiet. Soon she said, — I’ll tell her. Can she call you tonight? Will you be around?

I stood, walked to the window. — No, I said. Me and Ray are going out.

— Well then, Miss Bonyers said and left it at that.

K broke out and then we made the trip. It was a train first, just to get us out of Brooklyn. In Queens we rode a bus with no heat, people huddled up in their clothes. I tried again, eyes closed, and decreed that no one would ever go cold, but as before, I guessed my scope was too small. When the bus dropped us off, we were two blocks from Lianne’s building.

— I just thought of something. I asked Ray what that was. Didn’t bring no condoms for my joint, he explained. I totally forgot. You got any I could use?

— Nah duke, I didn’t bring any.

— What you going to do? he asked.

— Like always papa, raw daddy.

— For real? He laughed like he was shocked. You do that shit a lot?

— Nah, just with Lianne when I see her. And Keisha.

We walked toward the right building, but here in Lefrak City each one looked like the others, tall and light red brick, curved driveway out front, parking lots only for people who’d signed a lease. All the stores had bright signs, for Chinese food, for liquor, so much light I bet you could see us from the moon.

— Keisha, I said, that’s my heart, so you know she’s gotta feel me. Plus I want her to drop my seed.