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took her to the fanciest restaurant we knew, the Captain’s 6

Table in Amagansett. I told her up front that I was going 7

home alone, and she proceeded to spend the rest of the 8

night being all sexy and seductive. Every move of her 9

shoulders set my heart to thrumming.

10

I kissed her for a long while at her door. But then I told 11

her that I had to get home, that I had an important meet-12

ing the next day. And that was no lie.

13

Every night I sat up late with my ancestors. Leonard, 14

the geeky-looking one, JoJo, the warrior, and Singer, the 15

mask with his lips set into an O. I named them and 16

thought about them. I had made up their characters and 17

histories, but they were real to me.

18

Singer was a priest. He knew songs all the way back to 19

the first songs. He was from the Congo, I believed, and 20

not related to Leonard, who dealt in slaves, or JoJo, who 21

protected Leonard even though he knew what his brother 22

did was wrong.

23

I talked with them in earnest for hours. JoJo’s voice told 24

me that death was nothing to fear. Leonard suggested that 25

I get the money while I still had the man locked away and 26

powerless.

27 S

Singer I did not understand. His placid face always 28 R

chanting. I learned the most from him.

I wasn’t crazy. It’s just that my world had disintegrated.

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The Man in My Basement

Or maybe it was that I never really had a life but hadn’t 1

known it, so I was blissful in my ignorance. Everything 2

began to fall apart when I started talking to Anniston Ben-3

net . . . No. Before Bennet and I started our talks on evil, 4

when I started cleaning out my cellar . . . Or maybe it went 5

all the way back to Uncle Brent or before him to when my 6

father died.

7

8

9

I put on a dark suit with a yellow shirt and a splashy red-10

and-blue tie to go see Bennet. His beard was filling in and 11

his dark eyes were intense. It took him a full five minutes 12

to get used to the light. He had lost weight, and from the 13

smell of the room, I thought he might have had an intes-14

tinal disorder.

15

I didn’t care about any of that. It wasn’t my choice, I 16

felt, but his. He could walk free at any time or answer my 17

questions and eat steak.

18

“Mr. Bennet,” I said.

19

“Mr. Dodd-Blakey.”

20

“Are you ready to answer my questions?”

21

“Don’t you mean am I ready to go home?”

22

“Not before you answer my questions.”

23

I thought that there were tears in his eyes, but I wasn’t 24

certain.

25

“Why do you want to be down here in this cage?” I asked.

26

“Don’t you see? Haven’t you been listening to me?” he S 27

said. “With a word from me, your life could end. Maybe R 28

just with a gesture. A sentence could level a city block or 233

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Walter Mosley

1

blow a jetliner out of the sky. A dream could destroy Phila-2

delphia. A disagreement could throw western Africa into 3

famine for five years. You see it every day on TV, but no one 4

listens. People like me move around, but no one knows our 5

names.”

6

“Maybe you’re hiding down here,” I suggested.

7

“I’m not afraid to die, Charles. I’ve truly walked 8

through the valley of death.”

9

“If you aren’t hiding, then are you afraid of what you 10

might do?”

11

“There’s nothing I can do. Nothing.”

12

“I don’t understand. If you feel like you don’t make a 13

difference, then why torture yourself ?”

14

Bennet looked at me with wide frightened eyes. “Don’t 15

leave me in the dark again, Charles. Give me a couple of 16

days with some food and light.”

17

“All you have to do is answer my question, Mr. Bennet.”

18

“Give me a couple of days.”

19

“Could that baby ask you that?”

20

Maybe I was crazy. I didn’t hate Bennet. I was his em-21

ployee. Somehow I felt that he was still calling the shots, 22

that he was making up his own mind to starve in darkness 23

four days more. He was tortured behind those black eyes, 24

under that scorched head. I was the tool of his penance.

25

He was a slaver of souls in the twentieth century. He 26

was a killer and a liar and a thief, but that didn’t matter to 27 S

me. From what he had said I understood that he was a 28 R

torturer of black people, but I believed him when he said that it wasn’t out of malice or even intent.

234

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The Man in My Basement

My domination of him came from a personal conflict 1

we were having. I didn’t want to be another one of his 2

slaves. I was foolish enough to believe that I could take his 3

money and keep my freedom.

4

5

6

The next four days were spent pretty much as the last. I saw 7

a lady three out of four nights. The first day I went fishing 8

and didn’t catch a thing. The next day I saw Clarance and 9

Ricky together for the first time in months. I picked them 10

up in my car and treated them to drinks at the American 11

Hotel in Sag Harbor. We sat in the front room talking about 12

old times and drinking port. Clarance smoked a cigar.

13

“What’s goin’ on with you?” Clarance asked me in the 14

middle of our talk.

15

“What you mean?”

16

“I mean you never answer your phone and we don’t see 17

you. You don’t have a job, but you’re still in your house 18

and goin’ out buyin’ port. Somebody said that they saw 19

you at Curry’s in East Hampton. One guy saw you hitch-20

hiking down the road to Southampton.”

21

“I don’t know, Clarance,” I said. “Things are changing.

22

You know I haven’t done much with my life and I’d like 23

to change that if I could.”

24

“What you gonna do?”

25

I knew the answer to his question right then, when he 26

asked, but I didn’t answer because secrets had become S 27

dearer to me than their own content or designs.

R 28

The pecan pie was the most unexpected thing that hap-235

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Walter Mosley

1

pened while I waited for my prisoner to soften up in the 2

dark. I bought the pie, which was edged in chocolate, at a 3

roadside bakery stand that my mother used to frequent. It 4

was a beautiful pie. The pecans crowded the surface and 5

the crust rose like a collar, leaving ample room for the 6

chocolate edge.

7

I bought the pie in memory of my mother, but when I 8

got home I carried it across the street to Miss Littleneck.

9

She was delighted and insisted that I come in to share the 10

gift of giving with her sister, Chastity.

11

The entranceway to the Littleneck home was close and 12

unlivable, I thought. Irene led me up a flight of narrow 13

stairs to a room where the scent of death hovered like in-14

cense. In the small bed lay a woman, once black and now 15