Manchild in the promised land

by Brown, Claude, 1937-

  Mama said she wished that she could believe there was no problem. I said, "Why? He's probably shackin' up with some chick. There's nothin' to worry about."

  Mama said, "Ellen's been calling him since Saturday evening, and she's called him all day today. She said she hasn't seen him either."

  I said, "Look, Mama, he'll probably be home. There's nothing to worry about. Damn, he's a young man, and he'll be all right."

  She said, "Yeah, well, I sure hope so, but that ain't like Pimp. That boy, he never stay out all day Sunday and miss his Sunday meal."

  "Oh, Mama, come on. He's just growin' up. Maybe he found somebody who could cook better than you."

  I tried to make a joke out of it, but Mama was a little bothered. She wasn't in a mood for jokes. She just said, "Yeah, I hope so," and she said it in a sort of frightened way.

  "I tell you what. Mama. Just tell him to meet me there tomorrow. I know he'll be back. And I'll call first. Hear?" I felt pretty certain that Pimp would be home that night.

  The next morning, I got up and went to the bank. I'd forgotten to call Mama. Instead, I just went to the bank. I'd told Mama to tell Pimp to meet me at nine o'clock. After I'd been there for fifteen minutes, I decided to call Mama to

  find out whether Pimp was on his way, because the train was supposed to leave at ten-thirty.

  I called up, and Mama answered the phone. I said, "Hey, Mama, what happened? Didn't Pimp show up?"

  "Lord, child, I ain't seen that boy since he left outta here Saturday evening."

  "Oh, hell, he can't be messin' up now. It's too late."

  She said, "I hope he ain't, but I got some bad feelings. I been sittin' here lookin' out the window, all day yesterday and all night last night. Lord, I sure don't know where that boy could be, but I sure hope ain't nothin' happened to him."

  "Look, Mama, who was he with when he left?**

  "He wasn't with nobody. He just went out by himself. The last time I saw him, he was goin' down the avenue by himself."

  I jumped on the subway and went uptown. I started going around to all the different dope dens. I started asking all the junkies around there if they'd seen Pimp. Nobody had seen him. Nobody had seen him since Saturday.

  I got kind of scared. I went everyplace I could think of where he might possibly be. I even went to the police station, and they didn't know anything. I called the city morgue, and they didn't have anybody by that name. I called hospitals, and they hadn't taken in anybody by that name over the weekend. It seemed like he had just disappeared.

  I didn't know what to do. I gave up the idea of his going away to school that morning. This was just out of the question, and I knew this. I hated to tell Mama that I hadn't found him, but eventually she'd have to know. I just kept looking, even though I knew I wasn't going to find him. I didn't know anyplace else to look.

  After about twelve o'clock, I felt as though I had to go back and tell Mama something. I came in and said, "Mama, did you hear from him?"

  She had looked hopeful when I walked in, but my question just crushed all her hope. She said, "No; 1 ain't heard nothin'. You couldn't find him?"

  "No, Mama, I couldn't find him. But I found out something."

  "What?"

  "I found out he's not in the morgue, and he's not in the hospital, and he's not in jail."

  "Yeah, well', that ain't nothin', because he could be some-

  place dead, in some backyard, and nobody'd know about it."

  "Yeah, Mama, but he don't have to be. Look, Mama, I'm gonna look for him again, and I'll check with you before I go to work. If you don't know anything, I'll just go to work, and I'll look for him after I get off. I'll start looking some more."

  I got off that night, and instead of going home, I went uptown and stopped in a bar. I started playing around with a girl friend of Margie's. She asked me if I wanted a drink, and I said, "No, baby, I'm not in the mood for a drink."

  She said, "Did you hear about Pimp?"

  I got scared. The phrase just echoed through my head. Oh, Lord, and I started trembling. I said, "Look, Cecilia, I'll take that drink now."

  She said, "Okay, Sonny, what you gonna have?" She called the barmaid.

  I said, "Bourbon. Give me hundred-proof bourbon, straight."

  I just dumped it down; I didn't want to taste it. I just wanted a bracer for whatever was to come.

  Cecilia got very serious, almost sad. She said, "Oh, well, Sonny, there's . . . Look, I don't think I ought to tell you anyway. Sonny, are you going up to your mother's?"

  I said, "Yeah."

  She said, "She knows it, and she probably knows more about it than I do. So she'll tell you."

  I said, "Look, girl, would you stop playin' with me, and tell me what's on your mind! I don't want to hear that bullshit!"

  "Sonny, I'm sorry. I'm sorry I said anything about it."

  "Well, you did. Now go on and tell me."

  "Okay, if that's the way you want it. Pimp is in jail."

  I looked at her, and I could feel myself stop shaking. My body was vibrating, but it was calming down, it was steadying. I grabbed her and held onto her.

  She said, "Wow, man, take it easy, will you?"

  I guess I was crushing her. I just felt good. More than anything, I needed something to hold on to, and she was the nearest thing.

  She said, "Sonny, you better get a hold of yourself, dear. I go with Marty, you know." Marty was the bartender, a big cat, more like a bouncer than a bartender.

  "Yeah, well, I hope Marty's understanding," and I laughed.

  She said, "You don't seem too upset about it, you know."

  "Cecilia, it's not the worst thing that can happen, baby. Look, I'll see you around.'*

  "Sonny, I'm sorry I had to tell you, but I thought you knew."

  "That's okay, Cecilia. Look, I'll see you around, baby. Thanks a lot. Take it easy."

  I ran across the street, but before I could get upstairs, I saw Louis Howard, Ray, and another old friend Mickey. Mickey was Turk's brother and a friend of Pimp's. Mickey, Lou, and Ray came up to me. Ray had been a counselor up at Wiltwyck. I suppose everybody knew how I felt about Pimp, everybody in the neighborhood anyway. They'd sort of watched me raise him, sort of pull him up by his bootstraps, on the streets. As I came across Eighth Avenue, these three guys were looking at me as though there'd been a wake.

  Mickey said, "Sonny, did you hear about Pimp?"

  I said, "I heard he was in jail. Cecilia told me. But I don't know what for."

  Mickey said, "I called up to find out about him. We were all looking for him, all day. I went around on Seventh Avenue manhandling some junkies."

  I said, "Yeah, thanks, baby. I asked them politely, and I couldn't get anything out of them."

  Mickey was a pretty big cat. He was almost as big as Turk, and he was known all around the neighborhood for the way he could hit. He'd found out by putting the arm on some junkies. He said, "This junkie told me to call up police headquarters in Brooklyn. I called up, and I asked about Pimp. They said, 'Yeah, we got somebody here by that name.' They said he was arrested Saturday night."

  I said, "Did you find out what the charge was, man?"

  "Yeah, Sonny, it's an A.R., baby."

  I said, "Oh, shit!" I couldn't believe that, because Pimp didn't even have a gun.

  Mickey said, "I don't know. Sonny, maybe he was with somebody. I don't know what happened. Maybe he was just an accomplice. All they would tell me was when you could come and see him and that he was going to be arraigned next Monday at the Brooklyn Court of General Sessions."

  I said, "Damn, man. That's terrible!"

  Lou said, "Don't take it too hard, Claude. You tried."

  "Yeah, Lou, but I'm not finished trying yet."

  Ray said, "Claude, it just might turn out for the best yet."

  I said, "Ray, do you know what that means, man? That means that he's got a sheet on him. He's got a sheet for the rest of his hfe? Pimp is nineteen."

  "Yeah, well, i
t'^ not the worst thing that could happen."

  I said, "Yeah, hh could've been killed. That's a cheerful thought."

  I ^uess everybody saw that I wasn't in a good mood. They started saying, "Well, I'll see you, Claude. Try not to take it too hard."

  I went on upstairs and told Mama what I'd heard. She said they had already told her about it.

  I got to see Pimp about two days later. It was a frightening place. I couldn't even see his face. It was screened and dark. I was wondering if the cops had beat him. But I couldn't see anything. We were talking through a sort of transmitter.

  I said, "Damn, man, you really got yourself into some shit, you know."

  He said, "Yeah, well, you know how that is, man. Like you always say, maybe it was in the cards."

  I said, "Yeah, man, maybe it was in the cards."

  "Shit, Sonny, I don't feel too bad about it, man, and I hope you don't, because, well, hell, everybody's got to pay some dues someday, and I guess it's my time to pay."

  "Look, nigger, you ain't in no position to be gettin' so fuckin' philosophical right now. Do you understand the predicament you're in? Pimp, you can get seven to ten years for armed robbery, man."

  He said, "Yeah, they might do it. Shit, it's not that bad."

  "Look, man, I'm gonna put up bail for you and get you out."

  "No, don't do it, Sormy. Save your money. You know why I pulled that sting?"

  "Stuff, man?"

  "That's right, Sonny. I had to get me some stuff."

  "You really did it? I was hopin' that you didn't do it."

  "Yeah, I did it, man. I just had to have some money, and I knew if I started askin' anybody for some money, like you or Mama or Carole or Margie, they would've started gettin' worried. They would've known that I was back on stuff, and they would've started worryin' about it. I didn't want to put them through anything, man. I didn't want to put anybody through anything."

  "Yeah, well, you really puttin' us through some shit now.**

  He said, "I didn't expect it to go this way. I'm sorry. I don't want you to spend any money on me to try and get me out on bail. I'm just gonna walk with this. I'm gon face up to it. If I go to court and the bench man throws a dime on me, I'll walk with that too. Sonny. Shit, this is New York. I'll make parole in three years."

  I said, "Pimp, the thing is not the parole. You know why I'm spendin' so much money on you, nigger? I wanted to keep you out of jail. I wanted to keep you out of jail before you got a sheet on you."

  "Yeah, I understood that, Sonny, and I appreciated it, but this is my life. I've never really gotten into the street life. Nothin' has ever happened to me—until now.'*

  I said, "Yeah, too much is happenin' to you now. You're wasted."

  He said, "That's okay. Sonny. It's my life. I don't think you ever realized that it's my life, to waste, to do whatever I want."

  "Yeah, Pimp, it looks like you wasted it now. I hope that's what you wanted to do."

  He said, "Yeah. Did you see Ellen?"

  "No, man. I didn't see anybody."

  "She's pregnant. Sonny."

  I said, "Yeah, man, that's a beautiful fuckin' situation you're in. Your girl's pregnant, and you're facing an armed robbery bid. Damn. That's just about beautiful."

  "Damn, Sonny, I'm surprised at you. You're gettin' to be a worrier in your old age. All the shit you been through and you're all up in the sky like this. I mean, all up on the ceiling, man, over a little thing like this."

  "I don't know. Pimp. Shit, I guess I shouldn't worry about it if you're taking it so lightly, huh?"

  "Yeah man. Fuck it. Sonny. Whichever way it comes, man. . . . You heard about the nigger woman and the white woman?'*

  "Yeah, I heard a lot of things about both of them, but I don't know which thing you're referring to."

  "You know the thing about when the white woman brings a male child into the world, she can look at hiin, smile, and say, 'Son, someday, you may be President.' Sonny, they tell me that he's got one chance in eighty million that he'll be President."

  "Yeah, Pimp, that's about right."

  "But even if he misses it, Sonny, there's a good chance that he woa't be too far from President."

  I said, "Uh-huhi"

  He said, "When*a nigger woman brings a male child in the world, she looks at him, shakes her head, and says, 'Oh, my son, forgive me for what I've done.' "

  "Damn, Pimp, you sure seem to be not too worried about it."

  "The way I look at it. Sonny, it's too late for worryin' now."

  "Yeah, well, maybe you've got a point there."

  "Like you always say. Sonny, c'est la vie, man. That's the way it went. I guess we all couldn't make it."

  "No, Pimp, I guess we couldn't."

  I was pissed off, but this just wasn't a time for scolding him.

  I saw Pimp a few more times after that. I suppose it didn't go too bad with him. I felt that something had been gained in all of it, that he'd gotten something. I liked, most of all, the way he took it: "This is my bed; I made it myself, and I'll lie in it."

  Most people said Pimp was lucky, I guess he was. He only got one to five years. Mama said that Pimp was better off. He couldn't use any drugs up there, and now she knew where he was. In a funny sort of way, maybe he was better off, and maybe everybody was better off.

  I made up my mind that I was going to go to school. I didn't know where or what school or what I was going to study, but I knew that I had to go to school somewhere, and it couldn't be in New York.

  I tried talking to Tony. Tony had gotten his diploma. He'd graduated from Washington Irving Evening High too. I don't know what happened to him, but he started dabbling. Tony became more and more frustrated. He tried working, but he | said he just couldn't get along with these white folks who I were running the world. He would quit one job right after another, mess around uptown, and start dabbling more and more and more. He never got hooked. He was a sort of now-and-then drug user. When he was feeling bad or something was bothering him, he would start using drugs. If nothing was bothering him, he just wouldn't use drugs.

  I told Tony I was going to try to get ready to go to school

  in February. Tony said, "Yeah, Sonny, that's damn nice, man."

  I told him I could cut him into some people who would aid him in going to school if he wanted to go. He said he'd like to meet them. Anytime! wanted to cut him into them, he'd be ready. I didn't live near Tony any more. He was still living in the Village, and I was living up on Ninetieth Street.

  I told him to meet me uptown the next Friday night. I was going to take him to meet Reverend James. I'd told him a lot about Reverend James, and he had said, "Man, he sounds like a powerful cat. I'd like to meet him.'*

  I had been working a heavy tour at the post oflBce, ten to twelve hours a night. I came home that Thursday at about three o'clock in the morning. I'd put in some overtime. When I got in the house, I was real tired. As soon as I hit the bed, the phone rang. Mama was on the other end.

  I said, "Hi, Mama. How you doin'?" I got kind of leery, her calling me up so early in the morning. I started joking with her. I said, "Little giri, aren't you ashamed of yourself, bein' up so eariy in the mornin'? Aren't you sleepy?"

  She said, "Boy, I been tryin' to get you all night."

  "Well, I work. Mama, you know that."

  "Oh, I thought you got off twelve o'clock.'*

  "I'm puttin' in some overtime."

  She said, "Oh, well, that's good. Sonny Boy . . ." She stanmiered and stuttered, "Oh . . . uh . . ." She paused.

  I said, "What, Mama?"

  She just blurted it out, as if she had to spit it out as fast as she could because she didn't know how else to say it. She said, "Sonny Boy, Tony is dead."

  It hit me just like a bullet. I was stunned. I just couldn't say anything for a long time. I think Mama knew the effect it would have on me, because she didn't say anything. The phone was dead for a long time.

  I said, "Mama ..."

  "Uh-h
uh?"

  "Did you see him dead?'*

  "Sonny Boy, everybody on Eighth Avenue knows he's dead. I was over sittin' with his mother tonight tryin' to get her to relax. The poor woman's almost out of her mind.'*

  "Mama, I'll be uptown. . . . I'll be uptown."

  They had the lights on when I got there. Carole and Margie were there. They were all talking about Tony being

  dead. I just couldnX believe this. I sat there for a long time, and they kept sayin| it over and over.

  Somebody said, "Yeah, he's dead."

  And Carole would say, "I guess he is."

  I said, "Mama, where? How did they find him? How do you know he's dead? How did he die? Damn, Mama, Tony was only twenty-three or twenty-four."

  Mama said, "Well, Sonny Boy, they found him in the backyard."

  I said, "They found him in the backyard how?"

  "Dead."

  "An O.D., Mama?"

  She said, "Yeah, I guess so. He died from that dope."

  "I don't believe that, Mama, not Tony, because Tony knew what he was doin'. He wouldn't have gotten strung out. He knew how to dabble in drugs. I don't believe he died from any O.D."

  Then Carole said, "They say he had a lot of bruises on his face, like somebody'd been hittin' him with somethin' or somebody'd kicked him."

  I said, "No, not Tony ..." I just sat there thinking about it, thinking about wanting to take Tony down to see Reverend James this very evening, thinking about all we'd come through together, and thinking about all the dreams that Tony had had.

  Everybody stayed silent, as though they were respecting my thoughts. I got up and said, not to anyone in particular, just to all of them, anybody who happened to be there, "You know, nobody should be so surprised now, because Tony was dyin' for a long time."

  Mama said, "What you mean he was dyin' for a long time?"

  "Mama, some people look like they're in the best of health. When they start dying, it takes them years and years. I once knew a Japanese guy. He use to work with me. He told me that, in Japan, they don't believe that people die of old age or a natural death. They believe that they just get tired-a livin', Mama. When they start feelin' useless, they just close their eyes. I think Tony was beginnin' to feel as though he wasn't doin' anything. Mama, and he was kind of closin' his eyes^for a long time. You know, tryin' to fight that useless feelin'. I don't think he died all of a sudden. Young people don't die that easy, Mama."