"Raul seemed okay to me, but it's not like I been around him much. Maybe him going away isn't so bad."
"That some kind of comment?"
"I haven't seen much of you lately either, Leonard. It's not like I know anything about y'all's relationship. See, I sort of thought you and me being like brothers, I'd get the inside scoop on things."
"Hey, you got to remember, I ain't had no loving in ages. You forget how you get when you have a woman. All you want to do is fuck."
"I guess that's normal at the beginning of any relationship. I just thought maybe you'd have brought him around. You and me, compadre, we're family. Besides, you can only screw so much, after a while, you got to maybe read a book, talk to friends."
"You got enough problems in your life doing crap work for a living, being mostly worthless without ambition, and being friends with me. Figured you didn't need me and my lover dropping by."
"You think it's like I got neighbors? And if I did, think they'd know just by looking at you? And if they did, think I'd give a fuck?"
"That's not what I mean, and you know it."
"What do you mean?"
"No matter how close we are, I think the whole thing jacks you around. You know, me fuckin' a guy."
"It's different is all. I'm not used to it. I see two guys hugging up, one of them my friend, guy I think of in a traditional way most of the time, well, I won't lie to you, it makes me uncomfortable. Not sick to my stomach or nothing, just uncomfortable. I don't visualize what you guys are doing in the privacy of your own home, not only because it's private, but shit, Leonard, I don't like to think about it. I know there isn't anything wrong with it. But I was taught one way all my life, that homos were perverts. I know now a pervert comes in hetero or homo, same as good people, but it still turns my crank backwards a little to know y'all got the same equipment to play with and you're willing to do it with each other”
"How do you think it makes me feel, see you kissin' on some old gal? That ain't natural to me, Hap. It don't matter what's supposed to be natural, my biology tells me one thing, yours tells you another."
"All right. Let's drop that. It's not like we're really in disagreement."
"You know what, Hap?"
"What?”
"I really thought this one was more than just sex. I thought me and Raul had a relationship. I thought me and him were gonna grow old together and come over to your place now and then for fried chicken and maybe borrow money, you ever got any. I really did mean to bring him around. Really. I just wanted to get stabilized. And, of course, I have. I'm by myself again."
"He could come back.”
"I doubt it. I think I saw it coming for the last two weeks. We were just too different. I was confusing sex for loving 'cause I hadn't had either in so goddamn long. You know what? He liked Gilligan’s Island. He wouldn't miss that fucker. Had books on that shit. Photos of the stars. Has a stack of videotapes full of Gilligan’s Island. He thought Bob Denver was a good actor, and I think he had this thing for the Professor. Raul's big goal in life was to get a copy of the reunion episode."
"You're right," I said. "Mark Raul off your list. He's too dumb to live. Hey, one bright note. My Christmas present. I'm gonna cheer you up when I tell you what I got you. That 'Asleep at the Wheel' album you been wanting."
"The one where they get a bunch of folks together to redo Bob Wills's stuff?"
"Yep. Got that big-tittied singer you like on it."
"Dolly Parton."
"Yep. And it's got Willie 'Can't Pay His Taxes' Nelson too. “"No shit?” "No shit."
"You said album, but you meant CD, right?” "Yep."
"Great. Guess what? That was Raul's CD player. He took it with him."
Chapter 5
That night I slept on Leonard's fold-out couch, which had acquired an assortment of potato chips, peanuts, and pretzel crumbs. I guess watching Gilligan gives you the munchies.
Leonard was up half the night, going to the bathroom, the kitchen, looking out windows, feeling blue over Raul. I lay there and watched him pad around, and thought about Grovetown. I'd heard about it being stuck in time before Charlie told me. Grovetown was like Vidor, Texas, another, and larger, and more infamous Klan stronghold. Vidor didn't even have a black in its town to hang. It was all white and proud of it. Leonard knew about Grovetown. Had some idea what he was getting into, but if he was overly concerned, neither his words or actions showed it.
I closed my eyes and remembered Florida. I could smell her hair. Feel her thigh on my finger tips. The first time we made love was in this house. In Leonard's bedroom. My God, it hadn't really been that long ago. I knew that hot summer night, when we lay in bed together, even before we made love, that I adored her. And just as surely, I knew she would break my heart. And she had.
She couldn't cope with my being white. Not having a career. Having little to no ambition. A man adrift. She said: "I like someone who gets up in the morning and has a purpose. A real purpose. I have one. I want whoever I love to have one."
And she was right. What I was about was day-to-day survival, and that was it. When I was young, I could look around corners. Now, I did well to see six inches beyond my nose.
Jesus Christ, how in hell, why in hell, do all my romances go wrong?
Next morning, not long after the sun came up and coffee had boiled, Leonard called a couple fellas he knew and asked if they could stay over at his place for a while, watch it to make sure his former neighbors didn't drop by to return the favor to his house.
An hour later, the fellas dropped in with two paper sacks full of clothes and accessories. I hadn't met these guys before. They lived in the neighborhood. They were both black and huge and appeared to be in their mid-thirties. Their heads looked as if they had been boiled and all the hair scraped off. You could have put your fingers in their eye sockets and used their noggins to bowl a few sets.
Their faces were as warm and friendly as a switchblade knife. One of them had an eye with scuz all around it, like the crusty lips of an active volcano. They looked as if on their days off they liked to sit around and wring the necks of puppies, maybe stick coat hangers up cats' asses and toast them over a fire.
I was put in the position of entertaining the fellas while Leonard filled a suitcase. They didn't strike up a discussion with me concerning Melville's flawed masterpiece Moby Dick, nor did they have anything to say about Billy Budd.
We mostly sat in silence, said a few things about the weather. The one with the scuzzy eye finally hit a note of interest. He said, "You know, ants come out this time of year if they want to. Our house is full of the little fuckers. Goddamn Christmas ants."
"No shit?” I said. "Christmas ants?"
"Yeah, there's ants in my underwear drawer," said the other one.
"It's 'cause Clinton's underwear ain't clean," said Scum Eye.
"Yeah, well what you been doing in my underwear drawer?” said Clinton. "Sniffin?"
I looked around for Leonard. Still in the back room. Probably sitting on the bed having a laugh at my expense.
"I'll tell you though," said Clinton. "Them ants are busy little shits. They ate my banana. I left it on the table, and next morning they was all over it. “He smiled. "I stuck it in the sink and drowned them. An ant can't swim for shit."
"Leonard," I said. "Man, we got to go."
Leonard came out with his suitcase, and on our way out the door he paused and gave one of the big guys some money, said, "Here's for food. But there's stuff in the pantry. I get back when I get back, if that's okay with you two."