of his children,
awkward,
amazing,
tucked in his wallet
for the world
to see.
But the world
don’t wanna see
no kids,
and God ain’t
no pushy parent
so he just folds
and snaps
us shut.
WHEN THEY SAID
you were gone,
I cried all night,
I confessed.
And the next morning,
over hard-boiled eggs
and sugar cereal,
Shawn taught me
Rule Number One—
no crying.
THE WAY I FELT
when Dani was killed
was a first.
Never felt nothing like it.
I stood in the shower
the next morning
after Shawn taught me
the first rule,
no crying,
feeling like
I wanted to scratch
my skin off scratch
my eyes out punch
through something,
a wall,
a face,
anything,
so something else
could have
a hole.
ANAGRAM NO. 2
FEEL = FLEE
IT’S COOL
to see you, Dani,
I said,
feeling funny
but meaning
every word.
She grew up
gorgeous.
At least
she would’ve.
Good to see
you too, Will.
She grinned.
But you still haven’t
answered my question.
WHAT YOU NEED
a gun for?
09:08:20 a.m.
MY FACE
tightened
hardened.
They killed Shawn last night.
Who killed Shawn?
Shouldn’t you already know?
Just tell me who killed him, Will.
The Dark Suns. You remember
Riggs, used to live around here?
Think it was him. Had to be?
Had
to
be.
DANI WAS KILLED
before she ever learned
The Rules.
So I explained them to
her so she wouldn’t think
less of me for following
them
like I was just another
block boy on one
looking to off one.
So that she knew I had
purpose
and that this was about
family
and had I known
The Rules when we
were kids I would’ve
done the same thing
for her.
THEN DANI ASKED,
What
if
you
miss?
BUT
I won’t,
I said.
But what if you do?
she asked.
I won’t,
I said.
But how you know?
she asked.
I just know,
I said.
But you ever even shot a gun?
she asked.
Don’t matter,
I said.
Don’t matter.
DANI WAS DISAPPOINTED.
Slapped her
hands to her face,
tried to wipe
away worry.
But she couldn’t.
And I couldn’t
expect her to.
I LOOKED BACK AT BUCK
for a bailout,
some help,
something,
but he said
nothing.
Just slid the
cigarettes
from his pocket
and extended it
to Dani.
BUCK OFFERED,
Smoke?
I guess this
was his way
of diffusing the
situation.
Thank you,
Dani said,
wiggling one
from the box.
You smoke?
I asked.
You shoot?
she shot back,
slipping it between
shiny lips,
leaning forward
for the light.
Buck struck
a match.
And again
the elevator came to a stop.
THE ELEVATOR,
a smoke box,
gray and thick.
Buck and Dani
puffed and blew
everlasting cigs.
Thought when the
doors opened the
smoke would rush out.
But instead it
became a still cloud
trapped in a steel cube.
CIGARETTE SMOKE
ain’t supposed to be
no wool blanket,
ain’t supposed to be
no blizzard, no
snowy TV.
Smoke like spirit
can be thick but
ain’t supposed to be
nothing solid
enough to hold me.
I FANNED AND COUGHED,
expecting whoever was waiting
to wait for the next one.
Who wants to get on an elevator
full of smoke?
What if it wasn’t really
full of smoke?
Still,
who wants to get on an elevator
with a kid buggin’?
Swatting and choking on
the invisible thick.
They’d probably think
what you probably think
right now.
I TOOK A STEP BACK
to make room
for the silhouette to
move through fog,
to step in.
Dani and Buck
stood behind me,
close enough to feel
but I felt no breath.
09:08:22 a.m.
TWO LARGE HANDS,
the largest I’d ever seen,
rushed through the cloud
hard and fast,
snatched fistfuls of my shirt,
yoking me by the neck,
holding me there until
the elevator door closed.
Could barely breathe
already and could breathe
less and could see nothing
behind this blanket
of gray.
THEN IN ONE SWIFT MOTION
the hands released me and
slapped me into a headlock,
the kind that Shawn used to
put me in, the kind that all little
brothers hate.
I COULD HEAR LAUGHING
like being held under water
by playful waves
crashing down on my head
laughing laughing
laughing me under.
How do you tell water
ain’t nothing funny
about drowning?
WHEN I WAS FINALLY LET UP
I looked
for Buck,
for Dani,
for help.
They moved
to the corner,
chuckling,
blurry,
puffing
away.
WHAT THE HELL?
I
yelped,
one hand on my neck,
one hand on my tucked
untucked
tail.
WHAT YOU REACHIN’ FOR
and why you reachin’ for it?
&nb
sp; the asshole
who tried to mash
the apple in my neck
into sauce
taunted.
Nephew
Nephew
Nephew
Nephew?
Nephew,
he chanted,
After all this time
you ain’t learned to
fight back yet?
THERE ARE
so many pictures
of Uncle Mark in
our house.
Hanging on the wall,
hanging on the block, posing
with my father, his shorter
younger brother.
Dressed blade sharp.
Suits, jewelry.
Cigarette tucked
behind ear.
Camera ready.
Fly.
Like Shawn.
Foreshadowing the flash.
UNCLE MARK?
I let my hand fall
to my side
swallowed hard.
Am I going insane?
Come here, kid,
Uncle Mark said.
Lemme look at ya.
I stepped closer.
Taller than me.
Taller than everyone.
Six foot four,
Six foot five.
(Six feet deep.)
Rested his hands
on my shoulders,
the weight of him
bending me
at the knees.
Look like your damn daddy,
he said.
Just like him.
MY MOTHER TOLD ME TWO STORIES ABOUT UNCLE MARK.
NO. 1
He videotaped everything
with a camera his mother,
my grandmother, bought him
for his eighteenth birthday:
dance battles,
gang fights,
block parties.
But he dreamed of making a movie.
SCRIPT IDEA:
BOY: Mickey. No game. No girls. Meets
GIRL: Jesse, the young girlfriend of
BOY: Mickey’s landlord.
GIRL: Jesse teaches
BOY: Mickey everything he needs to know about
GIRL: How to impress them. How to treat them. But
BOY: Mickey uses what he learns to get
GIRL: Jesse to fall in love with him, but her boyfriend,
BOY: Mickey’s landlord, finds out and kicks him and
GIRL: Jesse out of the building.
So they’re in love,
but they’re homeless,
but they’re happy.
Right.
CASTING OF THE WORST, STUPIDEST MOVIE EVER
BOY: Mickey to be played by Uncle Mark’s little brother,
my father,
Mikey.
GIRL: Jesse to be played by the younger sister of a girl
Uncle Mark used to date,
Shari,
my mother.
UNCLE MARK PULLED ME IN
for a hug,
but how you
hug what’s haunting you?
AND YOU KNOW
it’s weird to know
a person you don’t know
and at the same time
not know
a person you know,
you know?
09:08:25 a.m.
WHY YOU HERE?
I asked Uncle Mark,
taking my turn,
my time,
looking him up
and down.
Sadness
split his face
like cold breeze
on chapped lip
after attempting
to smile.
I guess he expected me
to be excited to see him.
And I was, sorta,
but still.
WITH HIS HAND
he brushed down the front
of his shirt,
smoothing out wrinkles,
straightening himself out.
Pants stopped
just at the top of his
dress shoes,
dress shoes tied
in perfect bows,
leather shiny,
uncreased
like he ain’t
been walking.
Brushed and brushed
down his chest
to stomach,
down his thighs,
then squatting,
dipped a finger in
his mouth and scrubbed
the toe of his shoe,
a smudge
not there.
A BETTER QUESTION,
he said,
eyes up at me
is, why are you here?
RANDOM THOUGHT NO. 2
Always
always
always
be skeptical of a person
who answers a question
by asking a question.
Usually
usually
usually
it’s a setup.
ANAGRAM NO. 3
COOL = LOCO
WHAT YOU MEAN?
I asked,
trying to avoid
having to talk about
the coldness
in my heart
and the heater
in my waist.
WHAT DO I MEAN?
He stood up.
What do I mean?
he repeated,
putting
hands together,
fingertips touching,
cracking what sounded
like all the knuckles
in the world.
Listen, kid,
don’t play me and
don’t play with me.
It’s best you
turn it loose before
I tighten you up.
OKAY, OKAY,
I begged,
trying to hold him off,
trying to avoid being
knotted up again.
Look,
they killed Shawn
last night, Uncle Mark.
And . . .
And today
you woke up ready
to make things
right, right?
I nodded.
And the reason why
is because for the
first time in your life,
you realize, or at least
you think you could
kill someone,
right?
I nodded.
RIGHT?
he said,
louder.
Right.
BUT TO EXPLAIN MYSELF
I said,
The Rules are
the rules.
UNCLE MARK HUFFED
closed his eyes.
I wondered if he
was thinking
about The Rules.
He knew them
like I knew them.
Passed to him.
Passed them to his little brother.
Passed to my older brother.
Passed to me.
The Rules
have always ruled.
Past present future forever.
UNCLE MARK SQUEEZED HIS LIPS
like he was trying
to rip them off.
Then opened
his eyes.
Okay, Will,
he said,
all serious.
Let’s set the scene.
What you mean,
set the scene?
I mean, let’s play it out,
how this whole thing is gon’
go down. Play it out
like a movie,
Uncle Mark explained.
We’ll go back and forth.
I’ll start, from the top.
THE SCENE
Will stands over dead brother, Shawn.
Two holes in his chest. Blood all over the
gro
und.
Will takes his mother inside.
She cries. He looks for his brother’s
gun.
Will finds the gun. Lies down and thinks
about The Rules. No crying. No snitching.
And always get revenge.
The next day, he decides to find
who he knows killed his brother.
A guy named Riggs.
Will gets in the elevator. Goes down to the
lobby. Walks outside, past his brother’s
blood on the concrete.
He continues for nine blocks,
gets to Riggs’s house, sees Riggs,
pulls the gun out, and . . .
I GOT STUCK
Couldn’t say
nothing else. Couldn’t say
it. Hoped Uncle Mark would say,
cut.
BUT HE DIDN’T (the scene, continued)
Go ’head. Finish it.
Up until that point
things were running
smoothly, but this
stupid last part
got me caught up.
Finish it!
Uncle Mark demanded.
Dani whimpered.
Buck razzed.
Okay, okay,
I said,
trying to calm
Uncle Mark down.
Will pulls the gun out,
and . . .
I stalled.
And . . . and . . .
MY MOUTH
dried out,
words phlegm
trapped in my throat,
like an allergic reaction
to the thought
of it all.
THE SCENE (completed)
And . . .
And shoots.
Uncle Buck
finished it for me,
said it slowly,
dragging out the
shhhhhhhhhhhh.
Then I could
finally
painfully
hack it up.
And shoots.
Long Way Down Page 4