If he survived this mess, he’d have a wonderful story to tell Penny, Mary, and Jamison. He could enhance the quality of the future story by digging his fingers into the wound, pulling out the bullet, and flinging it back at the evil Professor Kleft. He touched the wound, let out a cry of pain, and decided that the story was fine as-is.
The coach went down the slope with the horses running at top speed. Nathan bounced in his seat so violently that he thought he might fly right out, and behind him the coach rocked and squeaked and seemed ready to topple onto its side.
Kleft cursed as he fell behind. He no longer cared if he wasted his journey and made certain individuals unhappy. He screamed with rage and fired his remaining bullets at the coach.
His driver, who was named Abner Yauncey III, had been married to his childhood sweetheart for thirty years. They had six beautiful children, and a seventh who was not particularly attractive but who they loved every bit as much as the beautiful ones. Abner’s grandmother lived with them, though she required constant care, because Abner couldn’t bear the thought of sending her off to live with nurses. His dog, Runner, did not fetch sticks quite as well in his golden years but remained a loyal companion. With all of his responsibilities, Abner couldn’t donate as much of his time or money to charitable causes as he would’ve liked, but he did what he could.
Abner did not benefit from Kleft’s shooting spree.
He’d been just about to leap into the driver’s seat, where he would have easily stopped the horses and subdued Nathan with little fuss. Unfortunately, the three bullets that punched into his back put a stop to that. With one final thought about how much he loved his family, Abner Yauncey III left our world and moved on to the next.
And then the coach flipped over onto its side.
Since the fate of the horses is of great interest to those who hear the tale of Fangboy, let it be said that the horses were unharmed by their fall. Nathan was thrown from his seat onto the dirt and was also unharmed, if one discounted his previous injury (i.e., the bullet wound). Abner was already deceased, but few would argue that were he not already in that condition, he would have been dead three times over.
Though one might have expected Kleft to be pleased by the fact that Nathan was no longer riding away in the couch, he was in fact extremely upset, for the coach had been no small financial investment and certain individuals would not react well to the news of its damage. He said terrible, wicked things as he ran toward the wreckage.
When he got there, Nathan was gone.
He checked the horse’s hooves, to see if Nathan had been trampled beneath them, but such was not the case. Abner’s body was in poor shape, but not such poor shape that the parts of a seven-year-old boy could be mixed in there.
“Damn!” he shouted. “Hellish damnation!”
The boy could not have gone far.
Kleft would find him.
Nathan ran and ran and ran, until he decided that he didn’t have enough blood left to keep running, and passed out instead.
He awoke on a cot in a small hut that smelled like leaves. His arm still hurt. A piece of gauze was taped to the bullet wound.
A man sat across from him in a rocking chair, smoking a pipe. His skin—Nathan didn’t know they made skin that dark. What sort of man was this?
“Where am I?” Nathan asked.
The man smiled and took a long puff from his pipe. “You are in my home. You have been shot.”
“I remember that happening.”
“What is your name?”
“Nathan.”
“Pleased to meet you, Nathan. My name is James. I am your magical negro.”
“You’re my what?”
“Your magical negro. I am here to solve the problems of white folks. And you, white boy, have problems.”
“I’ve never heard of a magical negro before.”
“Oh, we are very common. Why do you think white folks have so few problems?”
“How can you help me?”
“The first thing I have to do is take that bullet out of your arm.”
“Is it going to hurt?”
“Do you know the happy, warm feeling you get when you have just had a fine meal, surrounded by those you love?”
“Yes.”
“It is going to be the opposite of that.”
Nathan frowned. “Can we just leave it in there?”
James shook his head. “If we do that, white boy, you would get stuck to magnets wherever you went. That is no way to live.” He got up from his rocking chair and then crouched down next to Nathan’s cot. He gently removed the gauze and rubbed a large leaf on Nathan’s arm. The pain faded within seconds. “I am going to give your arm a good squeeze. If we are lucky, the bullet will pop right out. If we are not, I will have to scoop.”
He placed both of his large hands on Nathan’s arm, then squeezed.
The bullet popped out.
“I am not going to lie to you,” said James. “Scooping would have driven you to the brink of madness. I am glad we did not have to do that.”
“I wish I were bleeding less,” said Nathan.
“Do not worry. I can make it all better.” James pressed another large leaf against Nathan’s arm. “Hold this here and the bleeding will stop.”
“Thank you.”
“Not a problem in the least. That is why I exist.”
The leaf quickly turned red, but blood didn’t leak from under it. “Did you see Professor Kleft?”
“I saw nobody else. Just you, lying on the ground.”
“Oh. I was hoping that you’d defeated him.”
James gazed into Nathan’s eyes. “There is a lot of anger inside of you. Do you know that?”
“I’m not sure.”
“Yes, much anger. What makes you so angry, Nathan?”
“Nothing.”
“In this hut, we speak the truth. The truth is what sets us free. Lies only tie anchors to our feet and throw us into lakes. Tell me, Nathan, from where does your anger stem?”
“I…I don’t like my teeth very much.”
James gave him a serious nod. “Yes, they do seem like the teeth of a beast from hell. I was thankful that you were unconscious when I saw them for the first time. What caused your teeth to grow in such a manner?”
“It’s how I was born.”
“God was angry that day, I think. Or careless. Have you committed acts of evil with these?”
Nathan’s mouth went dry. “Not on purpose.”
“Evil is not always in the intent. What have you done?”
“I bit somebody.”
“I see. I would hate to be the owner of flesh that was sandwiched between those fangs. How did you feel after it happened?”
“Awful.”
“Did you want to die?”
“Well, no, I didn’t want to die, I just felt bad.”
“Did this unleash feelings of self-loathing?”
“I’m not sure. I wished I hadn’t done it.”
“Do you plan to bite others?”
“No. Never.”
“Do you feel that perhaps your teeth are a blessing? That they make you greater than other human beings? That they are in fact a gift from the creator?”
“No.”
“Nor would I. You may remove the leaf.”
Nathan peeled the leaf off his arm. The wound had healed. “How did you do that?”
“Strong leaf. Walk the path of the righteous and all will be well. When you leave my hut, follow the sun until it drops below the horizon, and then walk north until you reach a path. It is a well-traveled path, and soon somebody will find you.”
“Thank you, sir.”
“No, thank you, for allowing me to fulfill my purpose. God be with you.”
Nathan left the hut. He had no food or water, but he knew that he would make it. He need only—
“I’ve got you!” snarled Professor Kleft, grabbing Nathan by the back of the neck. “Dark times are ahead, I promise you that!”