by Gabriel Bump
“I could work at a foreign bureau,” I said. “In Rome or Istanbul.”
“Don’t you see the state of your own people?” Grandma asked. “What do you care about Italians? What do you care about anyone else? We need you here.”
“Everyone has problems,” I said.
“Look after your own people,” Grandma said.
“He wants to abandon us,” Janice said.
“Write a story about me,” Paul said. “Write a book about me and win a Pulitzer Prize.”
My first assignment was to cover the freshman bake sale. They wanted to raise money for sweatshirts and sweatpants for their entire class. They didn’t come close.
My second assignment was to write a feature about a retiring security guard. He was a Vietnam veteran. He told me about crawling after enemies through underground tunnels in total darkness. He told me how killing felt, all that power and sadness in his hands. At night, he said, in his bedroom, he could hear the jungle around him. “Still,” he said, “all these years later, I can’t forget.” He wished his brain could be erased. My editor cut all the interesting stuff, said it was too adult.
My third assignment was about the softball team’s horrible season.
The computer lab got a new projector—that was my fourth assignment.
I got fat from sitting at a desk all day.
Janice grew curved and full-lipped. She grew strong and indomitable. Sophomore and junior year she was a cheerleader. She went to parties all over the city. I was her lame brother; the athletes and rappers wanted me to put in a good word. I said I would and never did. Janice didn’t need me anymore. Once, she brought me back a Styrofoam plate signed by Chief Keef.
She quit cheerleading before senior year. She started dating Chester Dexter, which was cooler than dancing on the sidelines. Chester Dexter scored more touchdowns than anybody else in Chicago. He even put up four hundred yards against Mount Carmel. Nobody put up four hundred yards against Mount Carmel. Chester Dexter showed Janice parts of Chicago I had only seen on TV. He could go to parties anywhere. Whenever he walked into a room people stared at his bulging neck and thighs like, Jesus, that boy is a horse.
I tried out for the basketball team and couldn’t make it even though we were the worst team on the South Side.
Paul refused to meet Chester Dexter.
“If he ever hits you,” he told Janice, “tell me and I’ll find someone to break his knees.”
Paul wanted Janice to date a basketball player. He thought football players were murderers and cheats.
One Saturday over winter break, Grandma wanted me out of the house.
“You’re depressing me,” Grandma said. “You need to party.”
“I have to finish my applications,” I said.
“You need to dance,” Grandma said.
“These deadlines are coming up,” I said.
“Let him stay,” Paul said to Grandma. “He’s my teammate.”
Janice walked downstairs, beautiful, dressed up.
“Where you going?” Grandma asked.
“Out,” Janice said, adjusted her earrings in the front window.
“With that boyfriend?” Paul asked.
“He’s not my boyfriend,” Janice said.
“Take Claude,” Grandma said.
“I don’t want to go,” I said, even though I did. I wanted to see what her new life was like, if there was still room for me.
“He doesn’t want to go,” Janice said.
“He’s just shy,” Grandma said. “He’s just stuck in his head.”
“I don’t want to go,” I said.
“Why do you have to fill out applications?” Paul asked. “Didn’t you already apply to DePaul?”
“Yeah?” Grandma asked me. “Don’t waste your time.”
“Fine,” I said. “I’ll go.”
“Fine,” Janice said. “He’s almost here. Just try to act like someone cooler than yourself.”
Chester Dexter pulled up in a charcoal Jeep. He made his friend sit in the back with me so Janice could sit up front and rub his knee with her hand. She had started putting sparkles in her nail polish. Football season was over.
“I’m all about scones now,” Chester Dexter said as we pulled onto Lake Shore Drive.
His friend introduced himself as Renaissance. He looked thirty. But so did Chester Dexter.
“What’s a scone?” Renaissance asked.
“It’s like a muffin top,” Chester Dexter said. “Except with more stuff happening.”
“I could fuck with that,” Renaissance said.
Renaissance gutted a tiny cigar with his fingernail, rolled down his window, and let cold wind pull the tobacco out. He filled it with weed, twisted it together in one motion, licked and sealed it, and tucked it into his sock.
“For sunrise.” He smiled at me. His teeth were smaller than I expected.
“So, Claude,” Chester Dexter asked through the rearview mirror, “what are you all about?”
“He doesn’t know.” Janice moved her hand to her hair.
“I like croissants,” I said.
“Fancy boy,” Renaissance said.
Chester Dexter turned up the radio. Janice moved her body in a way I hadn’t seen before. She moved like another person, a person who was supposed to be sexy for football players.
We passed skyscrapers. Janice touched Chester Dexter’s thigh, then chest, bicep, head. We pulled in front of an apartment building. On the curb I looked up and couldn’t see the top. Chester Dexter left his car in a tow zone.
“The twins better have ginger ale,” Renaissance said.
“I’m not buying shit,” Chester Dexter said. Janice wrapped her arms around his waist. He walked into the lobby like he didn’t notice her. I followed Renaissance. The doorman bowed to Chester Dexter. Chester Dexter flipped him his keys.
“Move it if the cops come,” he said. “Don’t touch it if they don’t.”
“Notre Dame needs more people like you,” the doorman said. I turned around, and he was smiling at Chester Dexter’s back.
Renaissance whistled Dixie as the elevator climbed. The twins lived on the top floor.
We stepped into a hallway filled with portraits of old white people in fancy clothes. They shined and their eyes followed you.
“We have arrived!” Chester Dexter took off. College scouts compared his speed to lightning. They were right. Renaissance put his arm around me. Janice followed Chester Dexter.
“This fancy enough for you?” Renaissance asked me. The portraits quivered as music shook the walls.
“What about the neighbors?” I asked.
“They’re perpetually pissed,” Renaissance said. We followed the music.
Renaissance knew where we were going. He dragged me along.
“What about their parents?” I asked.
“They have a house in Michigan,” Renaissance said. “They’re always there.”
The twins’ dining room table was set with ornate kitchenware. A large vase with wilted roses stood in the middle. We pushed open a swinging door and stood in the kitchen. The music was louder. Dishes were piled higher than the sink. The bass shook and an unsteady plate fell to the floor. It shattered. I slowed down and bent to clean it up. Renaissance kept pushing.
“Don’t worry,” he said. “That’s not our duty. We’re guests.”
After the kitchen we arrived at a smaller library.
“This is the study,” Renaissance said. “Hard drugs are studied here.”
A large wooden door was on the other side of the study. I slowed down. Renaissance kept pushing.
“Are you ready?” he asked, and didn’t give me time to answer. He opened the door and we walked into a mixture of cigarette, weed, and smoke-machine smoke.
About twenty teenagers were standing in a circle. All the lights were off except for a strobe. A disco ball hung from a chandelier. The chandelier, like everything else in the house, was antique. Underneath the disco-ball chandelier two
boys were bareknuckle boxing. Music pumped from tall speakers in the room’s four corners. I couldn’t see Janice and Chester Dexter. Renaissance remained by my side. He yelled something at me I couldn’t hear over the cheering and music. The smoke had reduced his face to a vague outline. But he was smiling, his teeth gleaming. The two fighting boys were outlines also. One knocked the other in the stomach and finished him off with an uppercut. I suspect the one that got knocked out hit the floor hard, but I couldn’t hear it. A voice interrupted the music.
“Intermission,” the voice said. The lights came on. The circle collapsed. When the music started again it was softer.
“Let’s get some drinks,” Renaissance said. He pushed through the crowd. I followed in his wake. There was a foldout table covered in wine bottles and liquor, a long cooler filled with ice and beer underneath the foldout table. Renaissance snaked to the front of the line and no one stopped him.
“Wine for the fancy boy?” he asked.
“Where’s Janice?” I asked.
“No ginger ale.” He put down a bottle of whiskey and picked up a beer.
“Where’s Chester Dexter?” I asked.
“Dex’s probably giving her the business.” He handed me a plastic cup filled to the brim. Renaissance noticed something over my shoulder and looked scared.
“Let’s move,” he said. “The twins are coming.”
We didn’t get far before a hand grabbed my shoulder and turned me around. Renaissance disappeared into the smoke. Before me were two tall blonds. One of them was in a tight white dress with red wine stains down her chest. The other was in black. If she had similar stains, the black concealed them. I assumed she was stained also.
“You with him?” White Dress asked.
“I’m with Janice,” I said.
“That’s nobody,” Black Dress said.
“She’s like my sister,” I said.
“If you’re with him,” White Dress said, “both of you have to leave.”
“We hate him,” Black Dress said. Black Dress’s blond hair had pink streaks.
“He steals from us,” White Dress said.
“If he steals from us,” Black Dress said, “you steal from us.”
“If you steal from us,” White Dress said, “you fucking pay.”
“Do you know Chester Dexter?” I asked. I was sweating and spilling my wine.
“Everybody knows Chester Dexter,” White Dress said.
“Chester Dexter is famous,” Black Dress said. “What are you?”
“I’m Claude.” I extended my hand for a handshake. They backed away.
“Well, Claude,” White Dress said.
“You’re an intruder, Claude,” Black Dress said.
“We have a crasher!” White Dress yelled, and the music stopped.
Everyone turned toward me. I looked for Chester Dexter or Janice. I hated Renaissance.
“You know what we do to intruders,” White Dress said.
“Intruders must fight or leave,” Black Dress said.
“I’ll just leave,” I said. I tried to walk past them.
“Did you not hear us?” White Dress asked.
“Let me find Janice,” I said, “and we’ll go.”
“Intermission’s over!” Black Dress yelled.
“Hold him,” White Dress said to the guys standing around me. They obeyed.
The circle formed again. The guys carried me to the circle’s edge. There was blood on the ground. Someone hit the lights and turned the music up. The voice came back.
“A slight change in our program,” the voice said. “Up next: Intruder vs. Truck.”
Through the strobe I couldn’t see exactly what I was facing. It looked like a human man with gorilla arms and elephant shoulders. I caught flashes of his grimace. I thought he had a scar down the middle of his face. The twins put their heads on my shoulders.
“This is what happens when you steal from us,” White Dress said.
“I didn’t steal anything,” I said.
“Truck is going to turn you into piss,” Black Dress said.
“Are you going to kill me?” I asked.
They shoved me forward. A bell sounded and Truck lunged at me.
I waited for him to get close and slipped away. The crowd didn’t like that. They booed me. They wanted blood. I kept looking for Chester Dexter and Janice. I heard Renaissance’s voice.
Paul had tried to teach me how to fight in our basement. He taught me to kick shins and punch balls. Paul’s techniques involved hiding kitchen utensils in his socks. He once pulled an orange peeler on me and demonstrated how to cut a throat.
“Kill him, Truck,” Renaissance said. “Bury him, Truck.”
I ducked around Truck and kicked his shins. That made him growl. I tried to punch his balls; I clipped his thigh, which felt like concrete wrapped in denim.
If all else failed, Paul told me to scream. Run and scream. Truck kept coming after me. I started screaming. So I was running around, kicking his shins, trying to punch his balls, and screaming as loud as I could. I might’ve looked like I was winning.
My legs were getting tired when Chester Dexter stepped into the circle.
“Enough!” he said. “Someone turn on the fucking lights.”
Someone turned on the lights. Chester Dexter was between me and Truck.
Truck’s scar zigzagged from his left temple to his right cheek. His eyes weren’t demonlike, red, or pulsing. His eyes were emerald green. He was more sad than crazed. His neck was thicker than I thought. He breathed heavily.
“Who here is messing with my man?” Chester Dexter asked. “Who here is messing with me?”
Janice walked into the circle also. She adjusted her clothes and tried to tame her hair. The crowd went silent. The twins walked in front of Truck.
“He’s an intruder,” White Dress said.
“He steals,” Black Dress said.
“Claude doesn’t have stealing in him,” Janice said.
“Just look at him,” Chester Dexter said.
Everyone looked at me again. They seemed to agree. The circle dissolved; the party resumed. Some people wanted to shake my hand, acknowledge my balls.
“If that were me in there,” a man with gauges in his ears and nose said, “I would’ve curled up into a ball and started crying.”
Another person offered me a swig from their Hennessy bottle.
“Tonight is not your night,” White Dress said to Chester Dexter and me.
“Come back when you drop the loser,” Black Dress said to Chester Dexter.
Chester Dexter nodded in agreement.
“Renaissance!” Chester Dexter yelled. “We’re moving out.”
“Kofi’s having a party,” Janice said.
“Renaissance!” Chester Dexter yelled again. “Kofi’s! Let’s pop!”
Janice and Chester Dexter headed back toward the elevator. Renaissance caught up and slunk in behind them.
We rode the elevator in silence.
In the lobby, the doorman tossed Chester Dexter his keys.
“You bringing glory back to Notre Dame?” he asked Chester Dexter.
“Notre Dame can’t afford me,” Chester Dexter said.
“Brother,” the doorman said, “no matter where you go, make sure you come back.”
Chester Dexter dapped up the doorman. It was snowing outside. Janice curled underneath Chester Dexter’s armpit.
“Does that ever get old?” Janice asked Chester Dexter.
“What?” Chester Dexter asked.
“All these people loving you,” Janice said.
“They don’t love me,” Chester Dexter said. “They just want to know me.”
In the backseat, Renaissance unpacked a porcelain ballerina statue from his jacket.
“Isn’t it beautiful?” Renaissance asked.
“Try not to ruin our night,” Janice said to me.
“I wasn’t trying,” I said.
“Don’t worry about it,” Chester Dexter s
aid to me.
“Thanks for saving me,” I said.
Janice rubbed Chester Dexter’s face.
“Hero looks good on you,” she said.
. . .
We parked and Chester Dexter got out. We followed. I understood why people loved Chester Dexter. It felt like right next to him was the safest place to be.
Kofi was Ghanaian. His parents were in the import business. He was standing in the doorway when we walked up.
“Chester Fucking Dexter,” Kofi said. “Have everything you want. Everyone’s in the basement.”
He looked at me cross-eyed.
“Who’s your man?” Kofi asked Chester Dexter.
“Dude knows numbers,” Chester Dexter said. “He’s gonna handle my money someday.”
Kofi dapped me up, smiled, and showed yellow teeth.
“Anything you need,” Kofi said to me.
Chester Dexter and Janice headed upstairs.
“Meet you in the basement,” Chester Dexter said to Renaissance.
“Try not to start a war,” Janice said to me.
Renaissance grabbed my arm.
“Come on,” he said. He dragged me into the kitchen.
“What are you doing?” I asked.
He looked through the fridge. He sniffed fruit, opened Tupperware, tasted the milk.
“Come on,” I said.
“Janice loves you,” Renaissance said, with his head stuffed into a head of lettuce.
“What?” I asked.
“Janice,” Renaissance said. “She talks about you all the time.”
“She does?” I asked.
“You’re her best friend,” Renaissance said.
Renaissance finished with the fridge. He started looking through the cabinets.
“Why are you telling me this?” I asked.
“Dexter is cool,” Renaissance said, “but he’s not ready for the world.”
“He seems ready,” I said.
“You’re ready,” Renaissance said. “I can smell it on you.”
“What is that supposed to mean?” I asked.
“You know,” Renaissance said. “You got the musk.”
Renaissance emerged from a cabinet with two bottles of Coke.
“Can’t hide from me,” Renaissance said to his discovery.
I accepted Renaissance as my guide; I followed him into the basement.