My chocolate and Momma's milk make me tingly. Make me smile and laugh. Make me want to go fast.
The tide sits the boats low near the oily mud. The cars splash by. Momma told me to be careful riding my cruiser on the road. "You broke my video game, you damn retard,” Twan said. "Go on. Don't you start crying. You cain't just throw things around when you get mad. If you want to play with things you got to take care of it. If you cain't take care of it, I ain't gone let you play with it. Now go on to the library.” He pushed me. "What's wrong?" Uncle Cloudy said. "He was in there tearing up the video game. If he cain't play with it right, he's not allowed to play with it at all." Twan said. "Son, go to McDonald's and get you something to eat and come back," Uncle Cloudy said. "I'm putting this money in your pocket. Now go get you something to eat. Don't ride in the road."
"Hey Fawquita. How youuuuu?"
Fawquita walks all over town everyday in her stretchy leotards. Music comes out these covers over her ears. She got sparkling white tennie shoes. Pulls her hair out of her eyes with a stretchy band. Her arms slinging like she gone fly. Swish, swish, swish. Fly Fawquita, fly, fly, fly.
I ride a little ahead of her and say louder, "Hey Fawquita. How youuuuu?"
She be looking like one of them queens I seen in them pictures in the library and on the t.v. Her boobies bounce up and down when she walks. The faster she walk, the faster they bounce, up and down. Boom-dee-boom-dee-boom-dee-boom. Walk, walk, walk, walk, walk. Getting it on down the sidewalk, waving her arms, swish, swish, swish, swish.
"Hey Fawquita. How youuuuu?"
She pulls away one of her ear covers, where the music comes out. "Hey Tank. How youuu? It Tuesday."
"I's fine." My legs hurt peddling to keep up with her legs moving on down the sidewalk. "You's lookin' good."
I shout again so she hear me over that music. "I says you is lookin' goood this mawnin' Fawquita." Fawquita be smelling like nursing milk.
She pulls both of them ear covers off her ears. She keep a walking. "What's you say, Tank?"
"I says, you lookin' good this mawnin'."
"It be Tuesday." She gets on down the sidewalk.
I keep peddling hard. Cars driving by. Black clouds breaking up. It still steamy after it rained.
I wave. Gots to keep one hand on the handlebar. "Hold up, Fawquita, hold up, I wants to axsk you somethin'."
"What?" she says. "What? What? It Tuesday, Tank."
"I says I wants to axsk you somethin'. Can . . . can you stop?"
Fawquita stops. "Tomorrow Wednesday, Tank. The day before today was Monday."
"Today Friday, I think." She not even breathing hard. Just sweating. Her sweat smells like nursing.
"Get on away from me, nigger dog."
I straddle my bicycle next to her. I don't see no dog. I hear the music coming from her ear covers. It buzzes like gnats.
"Son, can you tell me where the courthouse is?" The white man had a white lady in the car with him. She smelled like flowers. Her lips were red and her eyes looked like the sky. I had silver money in my hand. "I say, son, can you tell me where the courthouse is? Honey, give him a dollar. He don't look right, Larry. He looks retarded. He's drooling. Gross. Just give me a couple of dollars, baby, quick." That man stepped out of the car and walked up to me. "Hey there. What you got? This will add to that. You can go buy you a Coke and a candy bar. What's your name? Well, anyway, I'm looking for the courthouse. Do you understand me, son? I'm running late, you see. Do you know where the courthouse is? Near the jail? That's great, really great. I don't know where that's, either. Can you tell me how to get there, as well? He don't know how to do that, Larry, the woman said. You know how to get to it? Excellent. Well, get in." It was a little car. He drove fast. The woman smelled better than anybody I had ever smelled. "Larry, he's got his nose in my hair. I don't care as long as he gets us to the courthouse. Thank you, boy." The woman was all in tight clothes and high heels. She was tall and pointy. Like a tree walking. "You'll have to walk back to get your bicycle. Here's a ten." The sun was in my eye. The man followed the flower smelling woman clacking up the sidewalk.
Fawquita is waving and turning around. "Shoo, now. Shoo. Shoo, you nigger dog. Go on. Go on. Damn dog. Goddamn old dog."
"Where that dog?"
"Dere he go. Big ole black mangy thing. On down the street. Dere he go. Ole nigger dog. Get on out of here." She waves her arms. "Get. Get, now."
"Fawquita."
"Get on out of here, nigger dog." She claps and stomps.
"Fawquita?"
"Get on dere."
"Fawquita. Your boobies are big."
"Whatchyou say Tank?"
"I was wondering . . . could I nurse from your boobies one of dese days?"
She knocks my hands away and hits me on the side of the head and knocks me into a mud hole.
There's humming in my head like bees. I'm all wet and muddy. Mud in my shoes and in my underwear and in my hair.
Fawquita is over me with her fists, breathing hard, growling like a black dog.
"You hurt me. Oh. I'm gonna tell." My legs are all twisted up in my bike.
She snatches me up. "Why you cryin', Tank?"
"Cause--"
A loud motorcĭcle goes by. One of them loud fat motorcĭcles that scares me. She pushes me in the mud again and goes on down the sidewalk, arms flying like she gone fly. Swish, swish, swish, swish. "Watch dem dere dogs, Tank," she says. "They knock you down sure enough."
I don't see no dogs. "Where's dem dogs?"
Cars drive by fast. A horn blows. A million black birds fly off. Squawk. Moss falls to the ground. I hear buzzing bees in my head.
Uncle Cloudy's got a car wash and tinted window business.
Uncle Cloudy be setting around with some dudes.
"Uncle, Tank be howling," Twan say. Twan plays video games on the TV when he not washing cars.
"Whatchyou blubbering about, Tank?" Uncle Cloudy say.
"We out of green Popsicles," Pop say. "Twan, put down that video game and run down to the store and get Tank some Popsicles and me some wings. Here's some money."
"Where's your cruiser, boy?" Uncle Cloudy asks me.
"I's all muddy and I's cold and I's got to go poop."
"Why is he howling so loud?" Twan says.
"Boy, quit scratching yo' self," Pop says.
"I got chiggers."
"You need to get on home if you needs to go to the poop," Uncle Cloudy says.
"Give me a ride, Uncle Cloudy."
"Son, you live right across the street, right there." Uncle Cloudy grabs my chin and points. "Get on home, now." Uncle Cloudy gets up and grabs me by the shoulders and turns me.
"Why you all muddy and wet?" Pop asks.
"Fawquita pushed me in a mud hole."
"Say what?" Uncle Cloudy says.
"Quit your howling and cryin'," Twan says.
"Boy, I done told you to get on down to the store," Pop says.
"All right." Twan gets on his bike. He told me he stole his bike from some people on St. Simons Island. He told me not to tell nobody or he would go to jail. I watch him pedal down the road.
"Here now, listen to me boy," Uncle Cloudy says. Uncle Cloudy lets me vacuum his car when I stay with him at the car wash. I like his car. It smells like cherries. Miss Francis's body looks like that vacuum cleaner. But she don't smell like cherries.