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the dark. In the dark they all came back to me. The dead 22

people and the fools. The women who gave themselves 23

for money and the men who gave themselves for women.

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The old men who couldn’t even get it up anymore who 25

gave themselves for power. And me like a sheepdog keep-26

ing them in line, leading them to slaughter because it was S 27

what I was asked to do.

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Walter Mosley

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I smelled blood in the darkness. I heard the silence of 2

death. And then a light would come and you would walk 3

down the stairs asking if the ones I killed were black men 4

just as if death had a race. I began to like you. Even 5

though you turned on me and beat me with the darkness 6

and silly questions.

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When the confessions were all through, I knew there 8

was no more to say. You left just a few minutes ago. I will 9

take the Sleeper after this one last letter (the rest I’ve writ-10

ten over the past two weeks).

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I want to die telling you something, Charles. I want to 12

pass something on, but I can’t think of a thing. Now that 13

death is coming the bubble is gone, the itch in my heart 14

has subsided and there’s nothing left to think.

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The only words I have to pass on are the ones to a story 16

I never told you.

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I once had to kill a man (a white man) — my boss.

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The man who brought me into reclamations after I was 19

finished with government work. His name was Stewart 20

Tellman and he was from Greenwich too. He taught me 21

everything that I tried to tell you. I learned from him and 22

we did good business. But one day his grandson was 23

killed by a falling beam at a construction site. A hy-24

draulic lift went out of control.

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Stew had the man working the lift murdered. Then he 26

started making crazy decisions on the job. He took chances 27 S

and left clues of our coming. He spent hours sitting in 28 R

the dark like you made me do for days.

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The Man in My Basement

I went to his home one night while his wife was away 1

visiting their daughter. I came in a window and shot him 2

in the head. He was napping. His head was down on a 3

mahogany desk in the study. I shot him and it wasn’t 4

murder. He had killed himself as far as I was concerned.

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I sat with him all night watching his blood congeal and 6

his skin tighten. I knew then (seventeen years ago) that 7

one day I would have to die like that. I decided to do it 8

myself rather than leave it for someone else.

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But I couldn’t have done it without you, Charles. You 10

gave me the time to say good-bye. The rest of your 11

money is in a false bottom of my book trunk.

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13

Tamal

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The next few hours were the hardest I ever knew. The 16

man in my basement was dead. A corpse that I could 17

never explain. I sat with him all day and into the next 18

night. When it was late I went out into the graveyard and 19

dug a hole between my great-great-grandfather William P.

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Dodd and my aunt Theodora. I dug all night long, won-21

dering if Miss Littleneck was hiding in the bushes, spying 22

on my crime.

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I covered the hole with two doors that I took off the 24

hinges of the two toilets in my house. The next night I dug 25

some more. The hole was as deep as I am tall before I 26

dragged the board-stiff corpse from my basement. I rolled S 27

him in and covered him over. There was no ceremony.

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The following day I dismantled the cell. Over the next 2

few weeks I used a blowtorch and an electric saw to cut 3

the metal into pieces, which I deposited, along with the 4

dismantled toilet, in dump sites around the island. I 5

burned his trunk and books and clothes.

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All that was left of him were those letters and about 7

forty tapes of his confessions.

8

He was right; I never sent his letters. I buried them with 9

his tapes in the basement where he died.

10

I started my museum. Now, with Narciss, I collect 11

pieces of black history from the area where I live. Narciss 12

and I don’t go out anymore. I told her that I’m not 13

monogamous but I’d still like to be friends. After a while 14

she came around.

15

I make my money from admission fees and from the 16

historically black colleges that send up graduate students 17

and professors now and then to study my collection. Nar-18

ciss is good at applying for grants, so we usually have 19

enough to pay our salaries.

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Chastity Littleneck died and I was the only one other 21

than Irene and the minister at the funeral. The whole 22

time I kept thinking that it was Anniston Bennet’s funeral 23

I was attending. It was sad, but I didn’t cry.

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Irene died four weeks later. She left me her house in a 25

new will. It was that one pecan pie and a walk in the 26

graveyard. Bennet was wrong but he would never know 27 S

it. Some people live according to love and being loved —

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if only a little.

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The Man in My Basement

I rent the Littleneck house to rich people in the sum-1

mer. And I still live up in my childhood room, playing 2

cards on Thursdays (closing the museum early) and doing 3

very little to make life grand.

4

Extine went away at the end of the season. If she ever 5

came back she didn’t call me. Bethany married Ricky.

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Clarance was his best man.

7

I don’t think I’ll ever get married. I still haven’t found 8

love, and whenever I think about children, I remember 9

that there once was a boy who was sold to a dog.

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about the author

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WALTER MOSLEY is the author of the ac-9

claimed Easy Rawlins series of mysteries; the 10

novels Blue Light, RL’s Dream, and Fearless 11

Jones; and two collections of stories featuring 12

Socrates Fortlow, Always Outnumbered, Always 13

Outgunned, for which he received the Anisfield-14 C

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Wolf Book Award, and Walkin’ the Dog. He was 16

born in Los Angeles and lives in New York.

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3rd Pass Pages

Document Outline

PART ONE

1

2

3

4

5

6

7

8

9

10