A Time of Anarchy- Mayan's Story

by Roberta Kagan

  About half an hour later, Red came through the front door. He threw his leather jacket and his colors on the sofa. Then he sat down and propped his boots up on the coffee table May had bought at the Goodwill the previous week.

  “What the fuck is this TV on so loud for? You haven’t gone fuckin’ deaf on me have you, Baby?” he asked, lighting a cigarette. He seemed jittery. Since he’d gained weight, he’d been taking speed trying to kill his ferocious appetite. It succeeded, but it also caused him to be even more difficult to live with.

  “Sorry,” May said. She’d forgotten how loud she’d turned the volume, trying to drown out her desirous thoughts of Cricket.

  Red got up and turned the TV off. “Hey, Cricket!” he called out.

  “Yeah?” Cricket answered. He was still in his room.

  “I wanna talk to you.”

  Cricket came out of the bedroom. His dark hair was slicked back from his face with water. He wore a white, sleeveless tee shirt, with tight black pants and a black leather belt that hugged his hips. May tried to avoid looking at him.

  “Yeah, Red,” Cricket said, but he didn’t look at Red. He stole a glance at May.

  She felt his gaze and looked up to catch his eyes on her. A spark of excitement shot through her like an electrical current. She forced herself to look away.

  “This guy brought in an old Indian with a suicide clutch. Hell, I ain’t seen one of those in a long-ass time. Remember, you worked on an old Indian’s before you went to ‘Nam. Big fucking disaster that bike was…remember? Well, anyway, this one today…the fucking thing is dead. Won’t turn over at all. I can’t figure out what’s wrong with it. You’re the best mechanic I know. You wanna come in and check it out? He’s willing to spend some nice bread to get it running. And hell, it would be a challenge for ya.”

  “Yeah, I’ll come in tomorrow and have a look at it. But I wanted to tell you that I might have a job. I had an interview at Bethesda Hospital today. It looks good they liked my army experience.”

  “You serious? You wanna hang around some fucking hospital all day? I mean why?”

  “It’s good money, and it’s what I learned in the service, Red. It feels good to save lives.”

  “Fuck, Cricket. I mean, come on man. You just got home. Let’s get out and have some fun. Then, later, you can get some kiss-ass job if you still want to.”

  “You know, Red, the bikes are really dangerous. You don’t think about it, but there’s no protection between you and the road. At least in a car you’ve got some metal around you. Hell, I seen too many people die in ‘Nam. I’m just about ready to put my bike up for sale and buy a car,” Cricket said.

  “Fuck you. A car? You got the Son’s of Rebellion in your blood. You can’t go riding around in a car and work in a fucking hospital. I knew ‘Nam screwed your head up, but not this much.”

  “Red, I guess you gotta face facts. I’m different than I was before I left. The war fucking changes people in ways I can’t begin to explain. I’ve just been through too many things. And now, the stuff that’s important to me is not the same as it used to be. I don’t want the biker life anymore.”

  “This is making me want to puke. Shut up, Cricket. You’ll change your mind. You’re still fucked up from ‘Nam. You just need some time back home and some pussy. That’ll put you right again. Give it a chance. I’ll get you a girl.”

  “Red, don’t. I don’t want just any girl for a one night stand. I’ll find my own girl. This time I’m looking for someone special. I want something I can believe in, somebody I can count on to be there for me. A girl who is mine alone, who gives me a reason to live, to get up in the morning. Can you dig it? Not some whore who hangs out screwing all the gang members. And Red, if I get the job, I’m going to work at the hospital.”

  “Fuck you, somebody special. You’re starting to sound like a queer. Then you want to go and get some shit job working for the man… And what if I say you can’t?”

  “Then I’ll move out. I’m your younger brother, but I’m not a kid anymore. This is what I want to do and this is what I’m going to do.”

  “Yeah, okay, don’t go nowhere. And you can find your own pussy. Shit, there’s plenty of it out there.” Red lit a cigarette. “Take that fucking job, go ahead. I guess it will help with some of these bills for this shithole apartment. Damn, if it wasn’t for the chick, I’d get rid of this place and move into the clubhouse. Screw all these fucking bills. But if you wanna work and pay some of it that’s cool. You’ll get sick of it soon enough.”

  “Thanks, Red. I appreciate the permission.” Cricket shook his head.

  “Fuck you. You’re still my baby brother.”

  Then Red went to Cricket and took him in a fake choke hold. The two began to play fight. And for a moment May watched them and thought she saw the two little boys they’d been when their parents had died, leaving them only each other to depend on.

  Chapter 16

  After dinner, May placed a plate of cookies that she baked from a mix on the table. Red laughed at her domesticity, but he gobbled the cookies anyway. It felt warm and comfortable to sit in the living room as the sun set, gazing outside at the tops of the trees with the two men she now called family. The situation was not perfect, but it was the only home she had. Red had been in a good temperament since Cricket’s arrival. He’d seemed to mellow; his mood swings were less frequent. And May wondered if some of the anger was triggered by worry over Cricket.

  May found it strange that something about Cricket pulled at her heart strings. Often, very late at night, after Red was snoring loudly, although he was very quiet, she still heard Cricket crying in his room. His crying could have been brought on by memories from the war, or from his childhood. May had no idea what it was that haunted him. And she could not ask him. In fact, she made it a point not ever to speak to him directly. When they were in the same room together, she tried to move as far away from him as possible, and she always averted her eyes.

  If the three were together as a group, she would address both men. But when May and Cricket were alone in the apartment, it seemed as if they both made a conscious effort to avoid each other.

  The following day May baked and wrapped her brownies for Cleve’s party. She put the mug she’d purchased for Cleve into her shoulder bag and told Red she was headed to work. He wasn’t pleased with her working at night, and made a point of telling her as much, but he did allow her to leave without resorting to a violent display of bad temper.

  She walked to the restaurant, breathing deeply. The freedom from Red felt good. And it was a relief to be away from Cricket. When she was around him, her feelings were far too overpowering for safety.

  When she got to the restaurant, Cleve’s Burgers was decorated for a party. There were helium balloons attached to the benches that Toni, the manager, had placed all around the dining area. The restaurant was closed for the celebration. Only employees were permitted to come in. And Cleve had declared that, on his birthday, all food was free to his employees. The jukebox had been rigged so that no quarters were needed, and the music played nonstop at a volume that made the floor vibrate. Motown’s soul music had everyone up and dancing. Bill, the head cook, was trying to teach May to jitterbug. He was older, a child of the Fifties. And he loved to dance. May was learning quickly, and very soon the two were the center of attention as the others gathered to watch. They dipped and swayed - spinning and swirling until there was a pounding on the glass door at the front of the restaurant. It was Red. May froze. She knew that look in his eyes. She’d seen it before, and it left her paralyzed. He was angry, very angry. Before May could stop him, Cleve opened the door to tell the man outside that they were closed. Cleve had never met Red before; he had no idea that Red was May’s boyfriend. He thought it was just a customer.

  Red never said a word, and before Cleve even realized what was happening, Red’s left hook caught him on the side of his jaw. Cleve flew back, but he was a big man and he did not fall. Instead, he came back w
ith a punch to Red’s stomach. Cleve thought that they were being robbed. May stood, shaking, with her hand covering her mouth, unable to speak, unable to move. Red’s eyes turned blood red. His face contorted as he came at Cleve. His fists found Cleve’s face in a machine-gun fire of punches. The assault came so quickly that Cleve could not react quickly enough to stop it. Finally, he fell. Someone called the police and an ambulance. But Red did not stay around to see what happened. Instead, he grabbed May’s arm so hard that she thought he would pull her shoulder out of its socket. Then he forced her outside, and slapped her face, her neck twisting like a jack-in-the-box doll.

  “Get the fuck on the bike. What are you doing dancing with niggers? I thought you had to work. Well, you ain’t workin’ no more. You lying, good-for-nothing bitch,” Red said.

  Trembling, May did as she was told. She was afraid to answer him. When he was in this mood, it was best to remain silent. But her heart burned with hatred. He pushed her hard against the side of the bike, and it almost toppled over, but Red grabbed the handle bars. “Now get the fuck on, I said.”

  She did.

  The bike roared like thunder into the night as Red stomped his black boot on the starter.

  Chapter 17

  Red stopped in front of the apartment and jumped off the bike. It fell to the ground. He’d never been so careless with his motorcycle before. He was like a dragon breathing fire. May tried to walk quickly ahead, but he grabbed her arm and spun her around to face him. Then he slapped her face. She felt her neck pop and a sharp pain radiated down her back.

  “Don’t you ever lie to me again. You understand me? ‘Cause next time I’ll fuckin’ kill you. You stinking little cunt.” He had her by the shoulders, and he was shaking her hard. She felt her eyes lose focus.

  Blood ran down her lip, but she dared not deny that she’d lied to him. She’d told him that she was going to work, but she never mentioned the party. If she could have told him the truth, she would have. It would have been nice to bring him along. But she knew better, because Red could not be counted on to behave. And he’d just proved her right.

  Her teeth were chattering, but he still kept shaking her. She tasted a salty gush of blood as she bit through her tongue. Finally, he stopped shaking her. But he pushed her forward toward the apartment, and she fell on the sidewalk ripping her jeans at the knee. The concrete cut her skin and a thin line of blood ran down the leg of her pants. With one hand, Red grabbed her arm and lifted her into the air, then forced her up the stairs. She tripped again, and felt the pain surge through her already-bruised knee as it hit the side of the railing. But he did not give her a moment to stop. Instead he picked her up by her shoulder and forced her to move along. Red gripped May’s arm as he turned the key in the lock. Once the door was open, he threw her inside. She fell face-down on the carpet. The rough wool of the rug burned her face.

  Cricket came out of his room. He’d heard the commotion. May was on the floor bleeding. Their eyes met, and she knew from the look in his eyes that he would intervene.

  “Hey, Red. Calm down. What’s the fucking problem?” Cricket said, walking over to his brother.

  “Mind your own business.”

  “Red, come on man. This is bullshit. Let’s go have a beer. I bought a six pack.” Cricket took Red’s arm. At first Red shook Cricket off, but Cricket tried again and it seemed to be working. Red began calming down. As Cricket walked Red to the kitchen, his eyes met May’s. She saw warmth and empathy in his face. It was then that she began to cry.

  May knew why Cricket didn’t come over to her. He understood Red. And so did she. Any kindness directed her way right now would only cause Red’s rage to reignite. So Cricket distracted Red with beer and conversation, while May quietly made off to her room light a frightened deer.

  Chapter 18

  Later that night, after May went to her room and the brothers had consumed an ample amount of alcohol, Red began to speak openly to Cricket. He had a cigarette in one hand and a beer in the other. May was sure that Red though she was long asleep, but as she lay down, she overheard Red begin talking about her and she couldn’t help but continue listening.

  “That bitch lies to me, Crick. She is a good-for-nothing whore. A lying whore. Do you know what happened? She went to a party and she was throwing herself all over this nigger like she wanted him to fuck her.”

  “Red, don’t think about that now. Just let it go. We’re having a nice night, right? Don’t get yourself all worked up again.”

  “Yeah, but why the hell would she need some nigger to fuck her when she has me?”

  Red’s voice indicated to May that he was beyond plastered.

  “You know I love you brother, but sometimes you don’t see things real clear. You might just have gotten it all wrong. May doesn’t seem like the type of girl to be throwing herself at any guy. Now, come on and tell me what really happened.”

  “She was dancing with him. A nigger. And it tore me up inside. I hate to see her lookin’ at another man, any other man.”

  May cringed when she heard the word “nigger” come spilling out of Red’s angry mouth.

  “Maybe she was just dancing? Try and calm down, and just let it all go… I don’t think she meant anything by it at all.”

  May got out of bed and went to the door of her room. From the crack where she’d left it open, she could see the men sitting at the table. Red’s head hung low and Cricket was patting his shoulder.

  “You might be right, Crick. Why the hell is it that you can always help me see things in a logical way? Hell man, maybe I was too hard on her. Should I go talk to her?” Red asked his tone calmed significantly.

  “Nah, let her sleep, man. Talk to her in the morning.”

  “Yeah, good idea, Cricket.”

  Then they changed the subject and began talking about the different custom paint artists who painted motorcycles. May got bored and went to bed, but she could not sleep.

  Later, when Red came to bed, May pretended to be asleep. She squeezed her eyes shut and held tightly to her pillow, holding her breath. In the darkness she could not see his eyes. And even though she’d heard him talking to Cricket and he seemed to be calm, one could never be sure with Red. He could either lie down and sleep, or turn around and start beating her again. Her heart pounded in her chest and her throat felt dry as she waited to see what would happen. The uncertainty made her anxious. Her palms were sweating, but her feet were cold. Within seconds of stretching out upon the bed, Red started snoring. Then May sighed with relief. Although she could not sleep, she was finally able to stop trembling.

  Sometime later, as the night began to shift to dawn, May heard the sounds of soft sobbing coming through the wall from Cricket’s room. She’d become familiar with his nightmares. At least once a week, she could hear the heart-wrenching sobs coming from Cricket’s room. It seemed they were more frequent when he drank. Once or twice, she’d even heard him awaken screaming. Red never seemed to hear him at all, and May wondered how he could sleep through the sound.

  Chapter 19

  When morning arrived, Red tried to act as if nothing had happened the day before. It was as if he’d never beaten and humiliated May. Sometimes when he acted this way, she felt as if she were losing her mind. May served him his breakfast, but before she gave it to him, she spat in his food. The hatred she felt for him was eating away at her like a cancer. At times she lost control of her good sense and found herself wishing he would just die, either in a bike accident or in one of the unnecessary wars he waged on other gangs. Then she would feel guilty and beg for God’s forgiveness.

  Without meeting his eyes, she placed the plate in front of him. And as quickly as a tiger pounces upon his prey, he grabbed her small wrist in his enormous hand.

  “Sit down,” he ordered.

  She did.

  “Listen to me. What you did last night really fucked me up. I don’t know if you was just dancing or what. But my girl don’t dance with no nigger. You understand?”r />
  She nodded her head. Hating him. Hating that horrible degrading word.

  “Answer me.” His voice grew loud and he squeezed her wrist harder.

  “Yes, Red,” she said, twisting her hand, trying to get away.

  “Now I’m gonna forgive you. But, since you fucked up you ain’t workin’ there no more. You don’t need no job. If you need money for something, you ask me. I’ll decide if you need it or not.”

  “Red…” she tried to protest. She felt the tears threatening the back of her eyes. “Please.” She’d just lost all of her freedom.

  He squeezed her wrist harder and twisted it, making her beg for mercy. “Don’t make me hurt you again, May. I hate to hurt you, but you always seem to bring out that bad side in me because you just won’t listen.”

  She couldn’t look up at his face, couldn’t bear to see his eyes. At that moment, at that very instant, she began to devise a plan. In her drawer, she’d saved all of the money she’d earned, and she had another check for fifty dollars coming to her. All together, she counted it in her head, there was close to three hundred dollars. When Red left in a few hours, she would gather her money, then go to Cleve’s and ask for the rest. After that, she would take the subway to the greyhound bus station downtown and buy a ticket. She’d head in the direction of California, stopping to work odd jobs along the way. When she finally got to San Francisco, if all went as she hoped, she would still have some money to begin her new life.

  “Okay, Red, whatever you want.” May never looked up. She stared down at the floor.

  “That’s my girl,” Red said, smiling. He patted her chin with his finger. Then he began to eat.