16
“Oh?”
17
“I had some money left over from that T-bill Mom left 18
for me when I turned thirty, but that’s all gone.” I paused 19
but Peaches had no consolations to give. “And, well, I 20
kind of borrowed some money on the house. I’m looking 21
for work, but I still have to come up with the payment.
22
It’s already two weeks overdue.”
23
Peaches didn’t say a word, but the quality of her silence 24
had changed. I could almost feel her growing anxiety.
25
“Peaches?”
26
“Why do you want to do this to me, Charles?”
27 S
“What am I doing to you?”
28 R
“You’re thirty-nine years old —”
44
3rd Pass Pages
ManInMyBasemnt_HCtext3P.qxd 10/24/03 8:16 PM Page 45
The Man in My Basement
“Thirty-three,” I corrected.
1
“— thirty-three years old and you don’t even have two 2
nickels to rub together. What would your mother say?”
3
“My mother is dead. Maybe you could leave her alone.”
4
“Rude.” She said the word like it was a club to blud-5
geon me with. “Rude. And then you want me to write the 6
check. I’m sorry, Charles, but I have to agree with Floyd 7
about you. There’s no helping someone who can’t help 8
himself. I just hope you don’t lose our family home with 9
your foolishness. But maybe it would be better in some-10
one else’s hands anyway. I can see you don’t have a gar-11
dener anymore and from what I hear it’s a pigsty on the 12
inside.”
13
I hung up. It was the only way I could get her to feel the 14
pain that she was inflicting on me. I knew she was right.
15
I knew that my life was messed up. But what could I do 16
about it when I couldn’t get a job or pay my bills?
17
I spent the entire night cleaning. I collected eight big 18
plastic bags of trash. I swept and dusted and mopped and 19
straightened. When I’d get tired I’d stop for a little 20
chicken soup and black tea. Then I was off again, up and 21
down through the three floors. At 4:00 in the morning I 22
dragged the bags out of the house and into the street. I 23
wasn’t going to let Peaches and Floyd defeat me. I’d put 24
the house in perfect shape. I had plans to wax the floors 25
and mow the lawn. I’d trim the hedge too. After that I’d 26
paint the house. This last thought almost defeated me.
S 27
How could I paint with no money? I couldn’t even buy a R 28
45
3rd Pass Pages
ManInMyBasemnt_HCtext3P.qxd 10/24/03 8:16 PM Page 46
Walter Mosley
1
roller or brush, much less all the gallons of paint that I’d 2
need.
3
Outside I noticed a spark. At first I thought it was a 4
firefly, and I stopped to catch a glimpse of it again. Fire-5
flies were a miracle to me. The fact of their light seemed 6
somehow to prove that there was a God.
7
After a moment the light appeared again. But it wasn’t 8
a firefly at all. It was Miss Littleneck smoking a cigarette 9
in the dark. At first I was mad, thinking that she was spy-10
ing on me. But then I thought that if she was really spy-11
ing, she wouldn’t be advertising with an ember. It was 12
almost as amazing as a firefly — that old woman sitting 13
out on her porch all night long, smoking one cigarette af-14
ter another, waiting for either a miracle or a heart attack.
15
The next day was Sunday. I’d fallen asleep on the sofa in 16
my father’s library. After three hours’ sleep I was out in 17
the front yard with a scythe.
18
That was a gas.
19
Christ’s Hope Church was just three blocks up from 20
my house and many a churchgoer had to drive past my 21
place. Almost everyone slowed to see me stripped to the 22
waist, cutting down the dead weeds and grasses that had 23
grown wild for years.
24
Peaches and Floyd drove by. They came to a virtual stop 25
in order to gawk. I smiled at them and waved. Peaches 26
said something to her husband and they sped off to God.
27 S
28 R
46
3rd Pass Pages
ManInMyBasemnt_HCtext3P.qxd 10/24/03 8:16 PM Page 47
1
2
3
4
7
5
6
7
8
9
10
11
12
13
That was one of the hardest days I ever put in. Twelve C 14
thirty-nine-gallon plastic bags of trash and dead weeds. I 15
only had two empty bags left. In the afternoon I broke my 16
fast with instant coffee, baked beans, and quick-cooking 17
polenta. I carried the meal on a tray up to the third floor, 18
to my mother’s sewing room, which was a small chamber 19
off her bedroom. There she had a treadle-powered sewing 20
machine and a small table meant for piecework.
21
I put my tray on the table and stared out the window 22
like I used to do as a child when my parents were out. Her 23
window was the observation deck for my fortress. I could 24
see our family graveyard and my great-grandfather’s stand 25
of oaks and then up the side of the piney hills behind our 26
community. As a child I sat there for hours shooting BBs S 27
R 28
47
3rd Pass Pages
ManInMyBasemnt_HCtext3P.qxd 10/24/03 8:16 PM Page 48
Walter Mosley
1
at Confederate soldiers or the English. I was a patriotic 2
Yankee fighting to protect my home.
3
My mother was still alive in that room. The basket with 4
her threads and yarns sat next to her spindly maple chair.
5
Her worn sewing slippers lay underneath the table, mak-6
ing it seem as if she would soon be coming up to use 7
them. I could see her in my mind, long face and coffee-8
and-cream-colored skin. Her nose was broad but not so 9
flat and her eyes were as round as some forest creature’s 10
orbs. She always smiled just to see me. That smile was 11
always waiting for me upstairs in her room.
12
My father was dimmer in my memory. Much darker 13
than Mom, he was thick. Not fat but strong like a tree 14
trunk. He had big hands and a giant’s laugh. Nobody 15
expected him to drop dead, certainly not me. Maybe if I 16
had warning I would have looked closer, listened more 17
attentively while he was still alive. As it is he’s just a big 18
hole in my memory, a hole where there was a yearning. I 19
looked away over the hills because if I paid too much at-20
tention to my father’s absence, the yearning would turn 21
into a yowl.
22
A dead leaf from the previous fall was tumbling on a 23
sudden wind. Its progress was almost musical; it seemed 24
to be tinkling in the breeze. I looked and listened and 25
then realized that the phone was ringing downstairs.
26
My foot hit the last step to the first floor when the ring-27 S
ing stopped. The leaf was still blowing in my mind’s eye 28 R
and I was laughing. I sat down next to the phone, won-48
3rd Pass Pages
ManInMyBasemnt_HCtext3P.qxd 10/24/03 8:16 PM Page 49
The Man in My Basement
dering whether or not to go up for my beans and corn-1
meal. My hesitation was rewarded with another ring.
2
There was a great deal of static over the line.
3
“Hello.”
4
“Mr. Blakey. Anniston Bennet.”