should look in on him at night, but I never did — letting 13
him sleep, I said to myself.
14
By then he couldn’t even talk. He’d open his eyes when 15
I’d come into the room though. He looked at me with 16
longing eyes. Sometimes he’d hold out a feeble hand.
17
Before he was that far gone, Brent asked me to sit down 18
next to his bed one morning. I had just brought in his 19
breakfast and was getting ready to leave.
20
“Charles.”
21
His voice was weak. I pretended not to hear him.
22
“Charles, please sit down for a minute.”
23
I did as he asked. He took my hand.
24
“What?”
25
“I just wanted to say that I was sorry, boy. I just wanted 26
to say that I know I treated you bad all these years. Called S 27
you names. Told you you were no good. I can see now R 28
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Walter Mosley
1
that all that time what you needed was a father. That’s 2
why you were so bad. You were just mad and I never saw 3
why. Can you forgive me?”
4
Tears came into my eyes. Tears of rage. The idea that 5
Brent would mention my father, that he would dare to 6
even suggest that he could have taken my father’s place, 7
made me hate him more than I ever had. I let go of his 8
hand so as not to crack his fingers. He saw the tears and 9
smiled. I believe that he thought I was forgiving him, that 10
those tears were his absolution.
11
I wanted to deny it. I wanted to holler him into dust. I 12
was so angry that I didn’t trust my actions, so I left the 13
room. I never spoke to Brent again. I didn’t touch him 14
again. I couldn’t. The nurse was always telling me that a 15
kind word or a gentle touch would be the best medicine.
16
But I couldn’t touch him. I couldn’t think of one kind 17
thing to say. His smell made my stomach turn. I would 18
have liked to jab knives into his eyes.
19
I didn’t touch or talk to him; I didn’t go into his room 20
at night. Every day he got weaker and I thought to myself, 21
Good, I hope he dies soon. I hope he dies tonight while I’m in 22
my bed thinking about the Playboy magazines that I stole 23
from under his bed.
24
One morning the nurse found him on the floor next to 25
the door. He must have been trying to get out. Maybe he 26
was trying to get to me. I heard something in the night, 27 S
but I really thought that it was squirrels in the gutters, not 28 R
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The Man in My Basement
my uncle scrabbling on the oak floor trying to escape 1
from death.
2
The police asked me if I had heard anything. Everyone 3
knew how much I hated Brent. But nothing came of it.
4
He died of cancer. They couldn’t arrest me for not being 5
friendly, for rubbing my urgent erection on the mattress 6
while thinking about impossibly endowed Tammy Lee 7
Naidor, the Playmate of the month.
8
“No,” I said to Bennet. “No, I’ve never killed anyone.
9
And now I have to go. I’ll come down tomorrow and ask 10
you some more.”
11
“Whatever you say, Warden.” Bennet smiled.
12
“You want a book?”
13
“If I may,” he said.
14
I passed him a paperback that I brought in my pocket.
15
Hothouse by Brian Aldiss. It was a book set millions of 16
years in the future, where plants had ascended to be the 17
dominant species on Earth. Maybe I gave it to him be-18
cause it was one of my favorites. I don’t know.
19
20
21
I sat up at the head of my bed and communed with my 22
ancestors. I didn’t know a damn thing about them except 23
that my family had kept and then forgotten them in the 24
basement for hundreds of years. They were the only thing 25
in my life of value right then — a hope that I came from 26
somewhere important.
S 27
R 28
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1
I was looking at the ivory faces and thinking about my-2
self as an embezzler and a murderer. Brent had always 3
called me a malingerer. Maybe I was that too.
4
Early in the morning, about 3:00 or so, I pulled out an 5
old spring binder that I had used in college. I started writ-6
ing ideas for questions. By the time the sun came up, my 7
tin trash can was filled with the failures I had penned.
8
9
10
11
12
13
14
15
16
17
18
19
20
21
22
23
24
25
26
27 S
28 R
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1
2
3
4
23
5
6
7
8
9
10
11
12
13
Breakfast for the prisoner was shredded wheat and skim C 14
milk with no sugar and no fruit. I went in having resolved 15
to deliver the food and leave.
16
I put the tray down and he said, “So what are we going 17
to talk about today, Warden?”
18
“Is Anniston Bennet your real name?” I asked without 19
thinking. But as soon as I asked, I was happy. It was only 20
one question. I had to ask three before having to answer 21
one of his.
22
I was so intent on the silly rules of the game that I al-23
most missed Bennet’s reaction. His head twisted to the 24
right an inch or so and the skin around his eyes momen-25
tarily tightened into a network of fine wrinkles.
26
“Yes,” he said.
S 27
But I knew better. The problem was that I had to ask R 28
another question to dig the truth out.
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Walter Mosley
1
“Was it your birth name?”
2
“No.”
3
“What was that name?”
4
“Tamal Knosos.” He stared blue comets at me. No fur-5
ther information was forthcoming.
6
“It’s your turn,” I said.
7
“I’m thinking,” he responded lamely.
8
“If you don’t have anything to ask, then you forfeit and 9
it’s my turn again.”
10
“Are you a child?” He sneered and frowned. I might 11
have felt victorious at causing him to lash out like that, 12
but there was a force behind his condemnation that un-13
settled me.
14
“No,” I said. “And that was a question. So now you tell 15
me where that name came from, why it was changed, and 16
by whom.”
17
I counted the inquiries on the same three fingers he had 18
used the day before.
19
Tamal Knosos considered me for a long time. It took all 20
of my concentration not to break away from his gaze. I 21
knew somehow that if he stared me down, I would never 22
regain the advantage.
23
Looking back on that morning, I can see how it might 24
seem foolish, childish really, the game we played. Two 25