Дж. Уорд: The Black Dagger Brotherhood: An Insider's Guide

The third floor of the new house is a big, open space—basically a finished attic. Total square feet is only a little less than the first apartment I had with my husband, and the Brothers reduce the place to the size of a doghouse. Their bodies are huge, and unless they’re standing right in the middle of the room, which has a cathedral ceiling, they have to stoop to fit under the sloping roof.

Wrath is the first to sit down, and he picks the spot against the far wall that is the head of the room. The rest circle around. I end up doing an Indian-style across from the king. Z is to my right. They are all dressed as they would for a meal at the mansion: Wrath in a muscle shirt and leathers; Phury and Butch wearing elegantly tailored designer casuals; V and Zsadist in nylon sweats and tight T-shirts; Rhage in a black button-down and dark blue jeans.

Wrath:What the hell are we supposed to ask you?

J.R.:Whatever you—

Rhage:I know! (takes cherry Tootsie Pop out of his pocket) Who do you like most? It’s me, right. Come on. you know it is. (unwraps the thing, pops it into mouth) Come onnnnnnn—

Butch:If it’s you, I will kill myself.

V:No, that just means she’s blind.

Butch:(shakes head in my direction) Poor dear.

Rhage: It has to be me.

V:She said she didn’t like you at first.

Rhage:(making point with Tootsie Pop) Ah, but I won her over, which is more than anyone can say about you, hot stuff.

J.R.:I don’t like anyone best.

Wrath:Right answer.

Rhage:She’s just sparing all of your feelings. (grins, becoming impossibly handsome) She’s so polite.

J.R.:(prayerfully) Next question?

Rhage:(wags eyebrows) Why do you like me best?

Wrath:Enough with the ego trip, Hollywood.

V:That’s his personality. So it’s a permanent vacation to la-la land, not a trip.

Butch:Which means it’s actually a surprise he won’t wear that Hawaiian shirt Mary got him.

Rhage:(under breath) I’d burn that eyesore, but it’s a lot of fun to take-off her.

Phury:Amen to that.

Butch:You have a Hawaiian shirt? You’re fucking kidding me.

Phury:No. But I like taking Cormia out of my clothes.

Butch:Respect. (pounds knuckles with Phury)

Wrath:Fine, I’ll ask a question. (The Brothers all quiet down.) Why the hell do you still jump when I turn up in front of you? It’s fucking annoying. Like I’m going to hurt you or some shit?

Rhage:She’s afraid you’ve left me behind and she’s not going to get to see me.

Wrath:Don’t make me stab another wall.

Rhage:(grins again) At least her contractors are still around, and she could get it fixed easy enough. (Bites down on Tootsie Pop.)

Butch:Wait, I know the answer. She’s afraid you’re going to tell her V’s got a brother she’s going to have to write about.

V:Whatever, cop. I’m an only.

Butch:Lucky her, considering you almost killed her—

Z:I know why.

All heads, including mine, turn to Zsadist. As usual, when he’s in a meeting, he’s sitting perfectly still, but his yellow stare is shrewd as an animal’s, tracking the people around him. Under the lights that are mounted along the ceiling, his scar is standing out with special depth.

Wrath:(to Z) So why does she jump?

Z:Because when you’re around she’s not quite sure where reality is. (glances at me) Isn’t that right.

J.R.:Yes.

At this moment, I recall that Z’s had the same problem a number of times—and it must have shown in my eyes, because he looks away quickly.

Wrath:(nodding with a kind of huh-that-makes-sense) Okay, cool.

Butch:I got a question. (grows serious…then channels that ass from Inside the Actors Studio) If you were a tree, what kind would you be?

Rhage:(amid laughter from the Brothers) I know, a crab apple. She bears fruit, but she’s cranky.

V:Nah, she’d he a telephone pole, not a tree. Trees have too much body.

Butch:(glaring at his roommate) Chill, V.

V:What? It’s true.

J.R.:I like the crab apple.

Rhage:(nodding at me with approval) I knew you’d agree with me over these steakheads.

Phury:How about a Dutch elm? They’re long and willowy.

V:And a dead species. At least I only insulted her figure. You gave her a disease that’s going to mottle her leaves.

J.R.:Thank you, Phury, that’s lovely.

Wrath:I vote for oak.

V:Please, that’s a total arboreal projection. You’re an oak and you assume everyone else is.

Wrath:Untrue. The rest of you asses are saplings.

Rhage:Personally, I’m a shaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaag bark hickory. For obvious reasons.

Butch:(laughs in Hollywood’s direction, then turns to me) I think she’s a Christmas tree. ’Cus she’s into the bling. ( pounds my knuckles)

Wrath:Z? You got a tree?

Z:Poplar.

Rhage:Oh, I like those. Their leaves make a cool clapping sound when the wind goes through them.

Butch:Nice. I remember those from when I was a kid.

Phury:Those are friendly trees. Not snotty. I like that.

Wrath:Poplar is up for a vote. All in agreement say aye. (The Brothers all “ aye .”) Any dissent? (silence) Motion is carried. (looks at me) You are a poplar.

I’d like to point out that this is precisely how things go with the Brothers. They decide. I follow. And incidentally, the common, lowly poplar is probably one of my favorite trees of all time.

Wrath:Next question. Favorite color?

Rhage:(raises hand) I know! Rhaging red.

Butch:Rhaging… (Busts exit laughing.) You are such an assaholic, you know that? A real assaholic.

Rhage:(nodding gravely) Thank you. I try to excel at everything I do.

V:We need to get him into Asses Anonymous.

Rhage:I’m not so sure about that…that Knitters Anonymous program didn’t do jack shit for you.

V:That’s because I don’t knit!

Rhage:(reaches over and grabs Dutch’s shoulder) God, denial is sad, isn’t it.

V:Listen—

Wrath:Black’s my favorite color.

Phury:I’m not sure black’s a color, my lord. Technically it’s the sum of all colors, so—

Wrath:Black’s a color. End of.

Butch:Phury, that ass-burning sensation you feel is because you just got booted with a royal decree.

Phury:(wincing) I believe you are right.

V:I like blue.

Rhage:Of course you do. It’s the color of my eyes.