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gray, the size of a child and wearing a curly brown wig.

16

Her eyes might have been open. Her chest didn’t seem to 17

move. But I knew from the jittering finger of her left 18

hand on top of the blanket that she was still among the 19

living, at least for a little bit and a while.

20

“Chastity, look what little Charles Blakey brought us,”

21

Irene Littleneck said. “He brought us your favorite pie. And 22

he didn’t even know that you liked it. Did you, Charles?”

23

I shook my head.

24

“Speak up, Charles,” Irene ordered. “Chassy doesn’t 25

hear so well.”

26

“No,” I said. “I didn’t know you liked the pie, but I hope 27 S

you like it.”

28 R

“Isn’t that nice?” Irene asked her sister.

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The dying woman’s fingers got a little more agitated.

1

Irene held her sister’s wrist and peered down into the half-2

closed eyes. “He’s a godsend, don’t you think?”

3

The one-sided talk went on for a while. Then Irene 4

turned to me and said, “We better let her get some rest.

5

You know, she hasn’t had a guest in more than three 6

years.”

7

8

9

“Mr. Bennet.”

10

“Mr. Dodd-Blakey.”

11

Anniston Bennet was sick by this time. His eyes had 12

trouble keeping their focus even after they had become ac-13

customed to the light. Only half a loaf of bread had been 14

eaten and he was unwashed. If I had not just seen Chastity 15

Littleneck, I might have broken down right then.

16

“Why do you torture me?” he asked.

17

“Why don’t you just leave?”

18

“I don’t know. I can’t tell. I’m supposed to be down 19

here. Trapped by a Negro, a black man, until the bubble 20

in my brain passes. Until the itch in my heart goes away.”

21

He said all of that staring down at my feet. Again I didn’t 22

believe him. Anytime he showed weakness I thought it was 23

a trap.

24

“That’s no answer,” I said. It was a phrase my father 25

used when I avoided his questions.

26

“I swear it is,” Bennet said. “There’s a bubble in my brain, S 27

not a tumor but I can feel it. And I want to tear my chest R 28

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Walter Mosley

1

open. Did you know how far a woman would go to save 2

her babies from starvation?”

3

The last question took me by surprise.

4

“Say what?” I asked.

5

“That’s what you want to know,” Bennet said. “There 6

was a rich man somewhere on the Mediterranean who 7

wanted to experiment on a child. A thousand miles south 8

of him, there was a political campaign of famine being 9

waged. And among the population there were many 10

mothers who would have jumped at the offer of feeding 11

the rest of her family at the cost of one son. I was just a 12

conduit, a wire making the circuit. If one child had not 13

died, the whole family would have perished.”

14

“You could have saved them all,” I said.

15

“That time maybe. And maybe I did once in a while.

16

But the power is drained away if you never meet your ob-17

ligations. The rich man I aided gave me power that some 18

presidents wouldn’t have understood.”

19

“Is it the guilt over that child that brings you here?”

20

“No. I don’t think so. Can I have some oatmeal?”

21

22

23

I made his afternoon meal of porridge and returned to 24

watch him eat.

25

“Can I have light tonight?” he asked me.

26

“You could go home and sit next to a fire.”

27 S

“I don’t want to go. I have to wait out the time.”

28 R

“Then you can stay, but I want to hear everything. No more games.”

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1

2

3

4

28

5

6

7

8

9

10

11

12

13

No matter what it might sound like, I hadn’t become C 14

heartless. For the next three days, I fed Bennet porridge, 15

bananas, and other soft foods that would strengthen him.

16

I sat with him for hours just talking and keeping him 17

company. We played chess (which he always won) and 18

talked about stock investments that I should consider.

19

He got back some of his color and gained a pound or two.

20

One afternoon I went to an electronics store and 21

bought a long-play tape recorder that was small enough 22

to strap to my back. The tape had a two-hour capacity 23

and I could pin the microphone to the sleeve of my shirt.

24

25

26

“Okay,” I told my prisoner on the fourth day, the secret tape S 27

recorder running, “let’s go over everything you’ve done.”

R 28

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Walter Mosley

1

“Why do you want this?” he asked.

2

“Because you forced your way down here and got all in 3

my life. You know everything about my crimes and misde-4

meanors. You tell me that my cellar is your prison. Well all 5

right, fine, what are you in here for? What have you done?”

6

He smiled slightly. That’s how it began.

7

I have his confessions on tape in a secret place in the 8

basement. I keep it hidden behind a stone in the wall.

9

The crimes he detailed to me were fantastic and sick. He 10

robbed Peter to kill Paul. He was at the center of much 11

suffering that I never even knew existed.

12

“You think that you can have the easy life of TV and 13

gasoline without someone suffering and dying some-14

where?” he asked me. Then he told me about the execu-15

tion of three hundred loyal officers that one dictator 16

realized might turn against him one day. He had nothing 17

to do with the killings, but he was in that Central Amer-18

ican country at the time, making liaisons with that gov-19

ernment for a fruit concern in the Midwest. He knew the 20

plan before it was executed but did nothing to stop it.

21

“It was not my business,” he said.

22

“But could you have stopped it?” I asked.

23

“Not without killing every man, woman, and child in 24

this world,” he answered. “And it’s not really worth it, you 25

know. Saving lives.”

26

“What do you mean by that?” I asked.

27 S

“I saved a man once,” he said. “He was a journalist in 28 R

the south of Africa. For the crime of writing against a 240

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mineral conglomerate, he was framed, arrested, and sen-1

tenced to death. I went to him on behalf of his sister. She 2

worked in an office I kept in Rhodesia. She begged me to 3

help. I liked her a lot so I told her that he was doing what 4

he had to do, but she still begged me. I went to him and 5