Rion Scott - Insurrections

Walter. Walter, Walter, did I wake you? he asked as he peeled a can of beer from a six-pack and pressed it into Walter’s hand. We need some light in here.

Rashid flicked a switch, and bright white jabbed Walter’s eyes.

Come on, have a drink, Walter, it’ll help bring you back into the land of the living.

Rashid, right?

You know my name, man.

What is this all about, Rashid? Walter looked at his beer and then shrugged and cracked it open and took a sip.

Man, I never thanked you for saving my life. I mean, I said thank you, but let’s face it, if not for you I’d be dead. Saying the words thank you is not enough in the face of that.

So you bring me a beer?

I brought a whole pack.

That’s funny, Walter said before taking a second sip. Really funny.

But you didn’t laugh, Walter.

I’m laughing in my head, believe me.

Rashid laughed so loud that he closed his eyes and his torso shook and he began to cough. It reminded Walter of the deathly cough Rashid released after being cut down, too close to dead, nearly spent.

What I like about you, Walter, is how deadpan you are. Funny as shit, man.

We’ve barely said two words to each other, Rashid. It’s too early to tell what you like about me. Besides, there’s nothing funny about me. You should meet my daughter. She’s the funny one.

Yeah, but I can tell what kind of dude you are. Maybe I felt your soul when you saved me.

Come, Rashid, have a seat. I want to talk to you. Me and Laura have been really worried.

Worried?

Look, Rashid, Laura tells me all the time not to say anything. She’s all concerned with your dignity, but I’m concerned with your life. You all right?

Walter watched to see if even a tiny piece of recognition had seeped through. Rashid’s face was a blank hillside freshly covered with sod.

For Christ’s sake, Walter said. When I met you, you were hanging by your goddamn neck from a balcony.

That beer is having some effect on you, Walt. You turned from friendly to all volatile and shit in a sip or two. I never seen that.

And I never seen a man hanging from a balcony by accident.

You seen one hanging on purpose?

Goddammit, Rashid, don’t play with me. On your baby boy’s life, I saw you hanging and it wasn’t no goddamn accident, you were trying to kill yourself. I’m not a fool, don’t try to make me out to be one. You come in here with beer and a smile, but if you can’t admit that to yourself and to me, it’ll come back to haunt you. You’ll be up there again and I tell you what…

Walter trailed off as he stared at Rashid raising the can of beer to his lips. Rashid looked to the floor as he slurped slowly. Walter stood.

I don’t know if you have admitted it to yourself. Or if you’ve admitted it to your wife. You can just… Rashid, I don’t know you, not really, but I… Look, man, just admit it to me. Here. Now. Tell me the truth. First step you have to take.

Rashid sat back, folding into the couch, the blankness returning to his face, flatness overtaking his eyes. He said nothing. He sipped. He kept saying nothing.

Good goddammit, get out of my house, Walter said. I don’t need this. I tell you what, don’t be hanging from my balcony when you do this again. I don’t appreciate that, and I won’t come to save you, I’ll let you swing. I didn’t ask for this and I didn’t need to watch a suicide attem—

Suicide, Rashid said. Man, look Walter. I’m sor— Shit, I was about to bullshit you again. I was— You think it’s just easy to say it like that? Suicide. That shit can just roll off your tongue because— You ever try to take— Man, this is just like the first time Ricca told me she loved me. It flapped off her tongue like she was saying hello. We was some kids. Babies. We still some kids to you, probably. She laid up right there in my arms. The thing about her is that she fits well. No other woman had fit in my arms that well. Can you imagine basing the rest of your life on something stupid like that?

Walter shrugged. Love is like that, he said, when it’s new and you’re young. Same thing almost with Laura. We been around forty-some years.

Yeah, but I just couldn’t say it. I babbled about something for a while and she was patient. Said I didn’t have to reciprocate. She loved me whether I loved her or not. When she went off to school that day I actually practiced. Practiced saying I love you . All this morning I was practicing what I was gonna say to you just like how I practiced back then.

You gonna tell me you love me?

Funny, Walter.

Wrong time, I know. Laura’s always warning me about that.

Naw, levity’s good. But I was practicing how I was going to tell you I was trying to suicide myself. Yeah, man. I was trying to kill myself that day. Something told me it was time to control my destiny, beat the Reaper to it, no reason to see this life thing through. I tried to kill myself, and the moment I went through with it I knew I had made a fucking fatal error. And yeah, I do love you, Walter. Weird thing to say to a stranger, but I do because you saved me and you saved Luce and you saved Ricca.

When he spoke of his family, his voice became high-pitched and the cracking cut sharp at Walter’s ears and tears shot down Rashid’s face. Rashid covered his eyes and cheeks with his hand. He became stuck between sobs like a disc caught on a scratch. Walter pulled a rag from his pocket and hovered over Rashid.

This the first time you tried taking your own life? Walter asked.

Yes. Rashid nodded through sobs. Yes. I’ve thought about it off and on for twenty years, but — Luce and Ricca. Damn, the same things that make you want to kill yourself also save your life. I swear all I was thinking about when I was hanging was that boy and that woman.

Walter watched Rashid, stone-faced. Rashid’s words seemed to him a comforting lie. He didn’t attempt to take his own life because of Luce or Ricca. Such a selfish thought, such a heavy thing to rest upon their backs. And it was Walter and Laura who had cut Rashid from the end of a rope, not a toddler or a woman who was elsewhere at the time. Rashid suddenly struck him as ungrateful and self-pitying. Walter put the rag back into his pocket.

It’s like, I been preparing Luce to live without his daddy, Rashid said. Now, isn’t that sick? I went out and got a DVD of this old episode of Sesame Street where Mr. Hooper — you know, the guy who runs the store — yeah, on that episode he passes away just like the actor who played him, and I showed it to Luce over and over. He be reciting lines from that episode around the house just out the blue, but that first time he was mesmerized. Big Bird’s all distraught and the humans are trying to explain why he’s never going to see Mr. Hooper again. I thought the shit might be too heavy for Luce, but then I remembered why we was watching. I said, Son, you understand what’s happening? He nodded and ain’t take his eyes off the TV and he said, Yeah, Mr. Hooper went to the store. He gets quiet, just staring at the screen and I ask him again. He says, Big Bird is sad because Mr. Hooper is lost. I’m like, Do you think he’s coming back? Luce is like, No. He’s lost. He’s not coming back. I kept thinking of Luce walking around the house saying, Daddy’s lost. He’s not coming back.

They both finished their cans of beer at the same time. Walter peeled another off the rings and handed it to Rashid. Then he peeled one for himself, cracked it open, and began to drink.

Rashid, he said. All that crying got to cease. I’m not going to say that men don’t cry. I cried like a baby over every damn little thing in the first couple years of my daughter’s life. Children do that to you. Make you weak and strong at the same time, but yeah… man up. Look, tell me something. You a Riverbaby?