on this elevator, so there
were no worlds to be
checkin’ for.
But he kept checkin’
anyway,
not knowing that
if he kept checkin’
anyway
he’d get
a world
of trouble.
09:08:04 a.m.
DO I KNOW YOU?
I asked,
irritated,
freaked out.
The man smiled,
adjusted the chains
around his neck.
Looked me
straight in the eyes,
dead in the face.
You don’t recognize me?
he asked,
his voice
deep,
familiar.
I looked harder.
Squinted, trying to
place the face.
Nah. Not really,
I said.
He smiled wide.
A jagged mouth,
sharp and sharklike.
Then turned around
so that I could see the
back of his T-shirt.
A silk-screened photo.
Him, squatting low.
Middle fingers in the air.
And a smile made
of triangles.
RIP BUCK YOU’LL BE MISSED 4EVA
MY STOMACH JUMPED
into my chest
or my chest fell
into my stomach.
Or both.
I knew him.
Buck?
I stumbled
backward.
Couldn’t be.
Couldn’t be.
Ain’t that what it say?
he said,
facing me.
Couldn’t be.
Couldn’t be.
But I thought . . .
I stuttered.
I thought . . . I thought . . .
You thought I was dead,
he said,
straight up.
Straight up.
I RUBBED MY EYES
over and over and
over and over again,
trippin’.
Never smoked
or nothing like that.
Don’t know high life.
Don’t know bad trips.
Don’t no dead man
supposed to be
talking to me, though.
YEAH
I did,
I said,
hoping he would
come back with
I’m not dead or I
faked my death
or
something
like that.
Or maybe
I’d wake up, sit
straight up
in bed,
the gun still tucked
under my pillow,
my mother still asleep
at the kitchen table.
A dream.
Buck looked at me,
noticing my panic,
softly said,
I am.
I DID ALL THE WAKE-UP TRICKS.
Pinched the meat
in my armpit,
slapped myself
in the face,
even tried to
blink myself
awake.
Blink,
blink,
blink,
but
Buck.
I KNOW WHAT YOU THINKIN’.
That I was scared
of
to death.
BUT NO NEED TO BE AFRAID.
I had known Buck
since I was a kid
the only big brother
Shawn had ever had.
Shawn knew Buck
better than I did,
knew Buck longer than
we’d known our dad.
I TAKE IT BACK.
I was scared.
What if he had come
to get me,
to take me
with him?
What if he had come
to catch
my breath?
ANAGRAM NO. 1
ALIVE = A VEIL
09:08:05 a.m.
CATCHING MY BREATH, I ASKED,
So why you here?
I wiped
the corners
of my mouth, thought,
Please don’t say
you’ve come to
take me.
Please don’t say
I’m dead.
Please.
Actually,
he said,
doing the bus-stop
lean back again,
I came to check
on my gun.
MY RESPONSE
. . .
Then, finally,
in an almost-whisper, he added,
Your tail is showing.
I PUT MY HAND BEHIND MY BACK,
felt the imprint
of the piece, like
another piece
of me,
an extra vertebra,
some more
backbone.
THOUGHT ABOUT MOVING IT
to the front,
but Shawn used to always say
dogs,
even snarling ones,
tuck their tails between their legs,
a sign of fear.
A signal of
bluff.
I REMEMBER
when I gave
that thing to Shawn,
Buck said,
He was around your age.
Told him he could hold it for me.
Taught him how to use it too.
Taught him The Rules.
Made him promise to put it
somewhere you couldn’t get it.
and I replied
with as much
tough in
my voice as
I could.
But I got it.
AND I’M GLAD I FOUND IT,
because I’m gonna need it,
I explained.
Shawn’s dead now.
No need to tiptoe around it.
Plus, I figured Buck already knew.
Figured dead know dead stuff.
Damn.
(Dumb thing to think.)
Happened last night.
Followed him from the store.
Caught him slippin’,
gave him two to the chest
right outside our building,
I said,
anger sour in the back
of my throat.
But I know it was the
Dark Suns. Riggs and
them. Had to be.
Buck folded his arms.
I see,
he said,
shaking his head,
his mouth fading
into frown.
So what you ’bout to do?
My eyes turned
to razor blades.
I’m about to do what
I gotta do. What you
woulda done.
I squared.
Follow The Rules.
09:08:08 a.m.
THE ELEVATOR RUMBLED
and vibrated
and knocked
around like the middle drawer,
like something off track.
Scared the hell outta me.
What’s taking
this stupid
thing so long?
I asked,
pounding the door
as hard
as my heart was
pounding inside me.
This rickety thing
has always moved slow,
Buck said,
grinning.
Yeah, but this
is ridiculous,
I replied,
palms wetting.
Might as well relax,
Buck said.
It’s a long
way
down.
MAYBE HE DIDN’T HEAR ME
or didn’t take me seriously.
Old people always do that.
Always try to act like what I’m saying ain’t true.