Jeffery Allen - Rails Under My Back

No you don’t.

You is stupid. You expect me to drive there? In this.

He ain’t at Stonewall.

Where he at then?

He somewhere else. I’ll take you.

No Face navigates to the location quick and precise, the red lines in his eye like map routes.

You bring me way out here to the boonies?

This where he at.

Jesus watches him. He better be.

Man, you don’t know me from Adam.

An old red ambulance — white crosses on the doors — stretches long before the building, the silent siren like a half-buried missile in the roof. Jesus reads cursory letters printed in a glass arc above the door: Hundred Gates.

Are you sure this is it?

Damn, No Face says. Damn. He giggles uncontrollably, slobber flying everywhere, a dab catching the center of Jesus’s forehead. Jesus wipes it away. Makes a mental note to wash his contaminated hand at the first opportunity.

They rise in a whining elevator commanded by a uniformed attendant to a room free from the day’s heat.

Keylo hits No Face upside the head with his open hand, a loud and terrible blow.

Damn, Keylo. No Face rubs his head. Why you always be fuckin around?

Cause I want to, bitch. The straps of Keylo’s bomber helmet dangle about his face like girl pigtails. Who suit you steal?

Jesus hooked me up.

His face the color of a sweet potato, Keylo looks at Jesus.

We tight like that, No Face says.

Tight like yo mamma’s pussy, Keylo says.

Not as tight as you mamma’s.

Keylo jerks his shoulders in a threatening manner. No Face starts. Keylo laughs.

Nawl, No Face says. You ain’t scare me. I wasn’t scared.

Jesus. Freeze emerges out of the well-lit but somehow shadowless interior. Extends a welcoming hand. Jesus takes it forcefully and without hesitation. He and Freeze shake hands, businesslike, professional, nothing like niggas on the street.

Have a seat.

Thanks.

Jesus seats himself on a white leather sofa. Keylo shoves No Face onto the sofa next to Jesus. Sit next to yo daddy!

He yo daddy.

Least I know mine.

Me too.

The apartment shows both a female and a professional touch. Light colors, a deep white carpet, a bubbly fish aquarium, decorative paintings, vases, books, aesthetic furniture.

A woman comes out of the bathroom, holding a man’s shirt across her breasts. Something catches between Jesus’s nose and throat. She glances at him from the corner of her eye and quickens her steps. On the sly, he tries to see her ass beneath the shirttails as she disappears into another room.

How you makin out? Freeze to Jesus. Disappointment in his bearing, the line of mouth.

Fine.

Glad to hear it.

The woman returns fully dressed now. Thin braids sculptured in circles around her head. Gold door-knocker earrings. A sleeveless top. Excessive baby powder on her neck and bosom forms a white bib. Discreet shorts. She rushes forward, silver bracelets flashing, and hugs No Face like a close relative. Her bare shoulder blades rise like wings. She pulls back to take a full view of him. You look nice.

Yeah. No Face fingers his suit. Jesus hooked me up. He smiles at Jesus and she does too.

Hi, I’m Lady T, hand extended.

Jesus. Looking at the hand, barely touching it, avoiding her face.

Jesus — Freeze begins.

Oh, Jesus said, could I use your bathroom?

Without speaking, Freeze points with both hands like a runway signalman. Jesus rises from the couch and moves past Lady T. Their bodies casually touch.

Excuse me, he says.

She smiles a smile, polite or genuine he can’t tell which.

He pushes on to the bathroom, shuts the door behind him. Puts his ear to the closed door. Voices in the other room, the closed door muffling their meaning or the voices themselves deliberately low, secretive. The faucet rumbles, spills water into the clam-shaped basin. Dissolves the voices. He scrubs his hands with perfumed soap under warm water before a row of mirror that multiplies his red image. Leaves dirty residue. He pulls the stopper. The water drains quietly, dirty rings rotating, concentric fashion, circling, wheeling, whirling, pulling, drawing, force forcing him to feel their power …

He circles into the center of a conversation. Lady T is nowhere in sight.

No Face, what happened? Why you fuck up?

See—

Did you get hungry? Try to eat those rats?

See—

You musta tried to eat those rats. That’s why you fucked up the job.

The gat jammed.

What?

The gat jammed.

No it didn’t. You forgot to take off the safety.

No I didn’t.

Stupid bastard.

How you know?

Retard.

Keylo laughs and laughs. Jesus doesn’t think he will ever stop laughing. Mechanical hyena.

Jesus makes himself comfortable on the couch. Here now, here, and prepared for the clear mission.

So what you got good to tell me? Freeze says, white, Lula Mae’s color. Another day or two, Jesus says. At most. He clears his throat.

So what’s up then? Keylo says.

Broken words speed through Jesus’s mind.

You ain’t worried, are you? Homes, it’s easy. Keylo demonstrates. Like using a cigarette lighter.

Keylo, Freeze says. Go easy.

I coulda done it myself, Keylo says. Days ago.

Go easy. Jesus has his own way of doing things. Am I right? Freeze turns to Jesus. Puts the question in his face.

Yeah.

See, Keylo, like I said. He got his own way of doing things.

Keylo watches Jesus, bomber helmet straps in motion.

I’m here to help, Freeze says.

Thanks.

Don’t mention it … Anything I can do?

No.

You sure?

Yes.

Freeze studies Jesus in silence — Jesus does his best to look him in the eyes, not turn away, show the steel he has inside — bright light crawling like ants over his bald head. I got some information that I want to share with you.

Yeah, No Face says. Yeah. He laughs, slapping his body at the private joke.

Freeze shuts him up with one look. He returns to Jesus. Is that okay with you?

Yes.

Your family is back in town.

Jesus’s life flares backward.

Yeah, Keylo now. Saw them at the airport.

Freeze nods. No doubt.

The knowledge moves through Jesus’s body. There. Freeze had done it. Bound together the hour and the fleecy sky.

Your lucky day.

I jus wanted to tell you that.

Thanks.

Don’t be offended.

I’m not.

Look, I’m not tryin to push you or anything. I just want to speed up things, that’s all.

Thanks, Jesus says. Thanks. So they decided to return. The bird thieves. Lucifer and John.

Let’s just try to get this matter taken care of quickly.

I will.

Because, you know—

I will.

I’m glad to hear that. I took the trouble of getting you a car.

Yeah, Keylo says. Any fool know you ain’t sposed to use your own.

I tried to tell him that, No Face cuts in before Jesus can reply and defend himself. He don’t know me from Adam.

Keylo will drop the car off.

Where?

No Face laughed. Jesus took the laughter for a knowing answer.

And the keys?

Don’t worry … Well, I think that’s about everything.

Do it, Keylo says. Gather up your own.

Don’t worry, Freeze says. He will. He will.

He will, No Face says. He got me. He got me.

And yo mamma’s nasty draws.

Yo mamma’s.

YOU TRYIN TO MAKE ME LOOK BAD BACK THERE?

Nawl, No Face says. I wouldn do that.

So why you was talkin all that shit then?

What I say?

Jesus speaks in a mocking voice. I tried to tell him this. He got me. I ain’t gon let him fuck up.

I ain’t say that.

You did.

Man, you don’t know me from Adam.

Jesus says nothing. Feels red Jaguar motion.