Percival Everett - Erasure

“And get shot fo’ the trouble,” Yellow say.

“Pussy,” I calls him.

“Yeah, and yo mama got her own zip code and area code,” Yellow say.

“Well, your mama work as a roach terminator and don’t need no sprays or no shit, just her breath.”

“Yo mama look like J. Edgar Hoover,” Yellow say.

“What he look like?” I ax.

“Yo mama,” Yellow say.

“Fuck you,” I say.

“Fuck you,” Yellow say.

“Fuck you,” I say.

“Fuck you,” Yellow say.

“Fuck you,” I say.

“Fuck you,” Yellow say.

“Fuck you,” I say.

“Fuck you,” Yellow say.

“Fuck you,” I say.

“Fuck you,” Yellow say.

“Fuck you,” I say.

“Fuck you,” Yellow say.

“Fuck you,” I say.

“Fuck you,” Yellow say.

“Fuck you,” I say.

“Fuck you,” Yellow say.

“You ain’t shit,” I say.

“Well, you is shit,” Yellow say.

“Nigger called you shit,” Tito laugh.

“Pussy,” I say and I’m bout to hit him.

“Where you gone get a gun?” Tito ax. “Wanna gun to get money. Need money to get a gun. Nigger in big bad circle.”

I forget about Yellow and looks at Tito. “Oh, I’m gone get the money for my piece, awright,” I says. I walk over and pick up a pool stick and tap the table with it. What I’m doin be makin Yellow nervous. “What wrong chew, nigger?”

“Ain’t nuffin’ wrong wid me,” he say. “You the one.”

I walk over to him. “I thought you and me was homeboys,” I says. “Why you want be acting all pussy-like?”

“We homeboys,” he say.

I’m all up in his face now, lookin at him wif my head cocked and I can see him sweatin and lookin over at Tito like for help. “What you lookin at him fo?” I say.

“Come on, Go,” he say. “We cool, right?”

I smile and back away a step. “Yeah, we cool,” I say. “We cool and you gone do that job wif me.”

“What?”

“You,” I say. “You gone wif to hit that K’rean muthafucka. I’m gone get my gun. Smooth nigger comin up in here pullin his piece and shit.” I shakes my head, then I look at Yellow. “I thought you say you had the nigger beat.” Then I let out a smile that makes Yellow relax. “Don’t be worrin, Yellow. We cool.”

Later on, me and Tito be leanin against the wall outside in the back alley smokin a joint.

“Where you get this shit?” I ax him.

“My brother scored it,” Tito say. “Good shit.” He look at me and hand me the J. “Lemme ax you sumpin. Why you fuckin wit Yellow like that?”

“Fuck, I didn’t mean nuffin by it.”

“You shook him up,” Tito said.

“Then his ass ought to be shook up,” I says. “Sometimes he act just like a punk. You think he a punk?”

“Naw man, he ain’t no punk.”

I takes a long drag off the joint and hand it back. Coupla guys pass by the alley on the street and I watches them. “How much you think a gun gone cost me?” I ax.

“Hell, I don’t know. What chew want?”

“I wants me a nine, man,” I say.

“I dunno, a hundred, maybe. I dunno,” he say.

“Your brother get me a gun?” I ax.

Tito shrug his shoulders.

“Ax him.”

“I’ll ax him,” he say.

“I wanna know how much it cost.”

“I’ll ax him,” he say again.

When I be walkin home I stops and looks at this fine red Mustang convertible in the parkin lot of a Ralph’s grocery stow. It be sharp and then I see this real fine sister come out and bleep bleep undo the alarm on the muthafucka and I thinks, Damn that bitch be fine as shit. She fumblin wid her keys, tryin to get in and so steps around so I can see her face and all that make up she be wearing. Then she see me and snap up like some kinda snake and she be holdin a can of pepper spray and pointin it at me. I jumps back.

“Chill out, baby doll,” I say.

“I’m not your baby doll,” she say.

“You ain’t gots to be all uppity just cause a nigger wanna look you over,” I says.

“You’ve seen enough. Now, kindly move along,” she say.

I looks at this bitch. “Kindly move along?” I say. “Girl, where you from. College or some damn place? You ain’t no better n’ me.”

“Fine,” she say and got her car door open. “Now, just back off.”

I back away some more. “Okay,” I says.

I watch her drive off in her fine ride and think, “Fuck you, bitch.”

I’m so mad I could scream. The whole world screamin. So, why not me.

Mama just be gettin home when I walks in. She and Baby Girl been out grocery shoppin. I’m lookin in the bag what be on the table and she tell me to get out of there.

“I’m hongry,” I say.

“Boy, I ain’t got no time to be foolin wif you right now. I got to make dinner for you two and then go over to my sister’s house.”

“Why you goin over there?” I ax.

“That no good man o’ hers been beatin on her again,” she say.

“She ought to shoot him in the ass,” I say.

“Boy, don’t be using no language up in here,” she tell me.

I laugh.

“I be serious, Van,” she say. “And I don’t want you hangin round wif that Tito none either. Boy be bad news.” She shake her head that way that make me mad right away.

“Tito cool,” I say.

“Tito stink,” Baby Girl say.

“Shut the fuck up,” I say.

Mama slam the cabinet where she be standin and stare at me with fire in her eyes. “What did you say?” she ax. “I know I didn’t hear you right. Don’t make me have to whip yo ass.”

“Yeah, well. You can shut the fuck up too,” I say and I stare right at her eyes. Cause I hate my mama and I love my mama. I’m starin right in her eyes and she can see I a man now. “You heard me, old lady,” I say. “You heard what the fuck I said. And don’t be thinkin you can tell me what to do.”

“Lawd, have mercy,” she say. She hot and I can tell she wanna grab a pan and knock me in the head. But she just shake her head there for a while. “I cain’t believe it,” she say.

“Believe it, bitch.” I loves my mama. I hates my mama.

“Van,” Baby Girl complain.

“I’m gone be in the other room,” I says. “Call when they some shit to eat.” And I walk on into the living room. From there I can hear Mama cryin and Baby Girl tryin to comfort her some.

I turns on the television and lean back into the sofa and I think that it be one uncomfortable muthafucka. I want me a couch like that one Cleona and her mama got. Fuck Cleona, no good ho. Think she something, fuckin round wif that ol’ rich nigger. Got her though, stuck her one and creamed on that couch. Fuck wif me.

I watches some cartoons and then I flip through the channels and I find the Power Rangers and watch that shit for a while. Then I finds the Snookie Cane Show, that fat bitch be talkin a mile a minute. Got all them losers on there and I think, shit, I could be on there too. They shoot the fucka over there in Burbank and they pay them bastards to be on. I know they be payin ‘em. And them people in the audience, always got sumpin to say, always giving advice.

Mama call me into the kitchen and I go on in there and sit down at the table. I look at my plate and I say, “What this shit?”

“Hamburger Helper,” Baby Girl say. “And I helped.”

“Well, you ought to help throw this shit in the toilet,” I say.

“That’s it, you little smart-ass, smellin-yo-own-piss, little nigger,” Mama say and she pick up a big ass knife.

Baby Girl run to her, screaming, “Please! Please, don’t cut on Van, Mama! Please, don’t be cuttin on him!”

“Let her cut me,” I say. “I got sumpin for her big ass.”