Home > Long Way Down(8)

Long Way Down(8)
Author: Jason Reynolds

family

and had I known

The Rules when we

were kids I would’ve

done the same thing

for her.

 

 

THEN DANI ASKED,


What

if

you

miss?

 

 

BUT


I won’t,

I said.

But what if you do?

she asked.

I won’t,

I said.

But how you know?

she asked.

I just know,

I said.

But you ever even shot a gun?

she asked.

Don’t matter,

I said.

Don’t matter.

 

 

DANI WAS DISAPPOINTED.


Slapped her

hands to her face,

tried to wipe

away worry.

But she couldn’t.

And I couldn’t

expect her to.

 

 

I LOOKED BACK AT BUCK


for a bailout,

some help,

something,

but he said

nothing.

Just slid the

cigarettes

from his pocket

and extended it

to Dani.

 

 

BUCK OFFERED,


Smoke?

I guess this

was his way

of diffusing the

situation.

Thank you,

Dani said,

wiggling one

from the box.

You smoke?

I asked.

You shoot?

she shot back,

slipping it between

shiny lips,

leaning forward

for the light.

Buck struck

a match.

And again

the elevator came to a stop.

 

 

THE ELEVATOR,


a smoke box,

gray and thick.

Buck and Dani

puffed and blew

everlasting cigs.

Thought when the

doors opened the

smoke would rush out.

But instead it

became a still cloud

trapped in a steel cube.

 

 

CIGARETTE SMOKE


ain’t supposed to be

no wool blanket,

ain’t supposed to be

no blizzard, no

snowy TV.

Smoke   like spirit

can be thick but

ain’t supposed to be

nothing solid

enough to hold me.

 

 

I FANNED AND COUGHED,


expecting whoever was waiting

to wait for the next one.

Who wants to get on an elevator

full of smoke?

What if it wasn’t really

full of smoke?

Still,

who wants to get on an elevator

with a kid buggin’?

Swatting and choking on

the invisible thick.

They’d probably think

what you probably think

right now.

 

 

I TOOK A STEP BACK


to make room

for the silhouette to

move through fog,

to step in.

Dani and Buck

stood behind me,

close enough to feel

but I felt no breath.

 

 

09:08:22 a.m.

 

 

TWO LARGE HANDS,


the largest I’d ever seen,

rushed through the cloud

hard and fast,

snatched fistfuls of my shirt,

yoking me by the neck,

holding me there until

the elevator door closed.

Could barely breathe

already and could breathe

less and could see nothing

behind this blanket

of gray.

 

 

THEN IN ONE SWIFT MOTION


the hands released me and

slapped me into a headlock,

the kind that Shawn used to

put me in, the kind that all little

brothers hate.

 

 

I COULD HEAR LAUGHING


like being held under water

by playful waves

crashing down on my head

laughing laughing

laughing me under.

How do you tell water

ain’t nothing funny

about drowning?

 

 

WHEN I WAS FINALLY LET UP


I looked

for Buck,

for Dani,

for help.

They moved

to the corner,

chuckling,

blurry,

puffing

away.

 

 

WHAT THE HELL?


I

yelped,

one hand on my neck,

one hand on my tucked

untucked

tail.

 

 

WHAT YOU REACHIN’ FOR


and why you reachin’ for it?

the asshole

who tried to mash

the apple in my neck

into sauce

taunted.

Nephew

Nephew

Nephew

Nephew?

Nephew,

he chanted,

After all this time

you ain’t learned to

fight back yet?

 

 

THERE ARE


so many pictures

of Uncle Mark in

our house.

Hanging on the wall,

hanging on the block, posing

with my father, his shorter

younger brother.

Dressed blade sharp.

Suits, jewelry.

Cigarette tucked

behind ear.

Camera ready.

Fly.

Like Shawn.

Foreshadowing the flash.

 

 

UNCLE MARK?


I let my hand fall

to my side

swallowed hard.

Am I going insane?

Come here, kid,

Uncle Mark said.

Lemme look at ya.

I stepped closer.

Taller than me.

Taller than everyone.

Six foot four,

Six foot five.

(Six feet deep.)

Rested his hands

on my shoulders,

the weight of him

bending me

at the knees.

Look like your damn daddy,

he said.

Just like him.

 

 

MY MOTHER TOLD ME TWO STORIES ABOUT UNCLE MARK.


NO. 1


He videotaped everything

with a camera his mother,

my grandmother, bought him

for his eighteenth birthday:

dance battles,

gang fights,

block parties.

But he dreamed of making a movie.

SCRIPT IDEA:

BOY: Mickey. No game. No girls. Meets

GIRL: Jesse, the young girlfriend of

BOY: Mickey’s landlord.

GIRL: Jesse teaches

BOY: Mickey everything he needs to know about

GIRL: How to impress them. How to treat them. But

BOY: Mickey uses what he learns to get

GIRL: Jesse to fall in love with him, but her boyfriend,

BOY: Mickey’s landlord, finds out and kicks him and

GIRL: Jesse out of the building.

So they’re in love,

but they’re homeless,

but they’re happy.

Right.

 

 

CASTING OF THE WORST, STUPIDEST MOVIE EVER


BOY: Mickey to be played by Uncle Mark’s little brother,

my father,

Mikey.

GIRL: Jesse to be played by the younger sister of a girl

Uncle Mark used to date,

Shari,

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