with a lot of fat in it. Ahn used to trim all the fat from his portions.
“Hurt your stomach. You should try not eatin’. That’s what hurts.”
Thomas took a bite of meat loaf to placate Elton. Then he worked on the mashed potatoes and greens.
The boy didn’t want his piece of lemon meringue pie, and so Elton gobbled it down to teach his spoiled son a lesson, he said.
That we e ke nd B runo came over. Thomas didn’t invite his jolly friend into his valley. He wanted to keep that paradise for himself. Instead he and Bruno walked the four blocks to Bruno’s house, where together they read a very old, very beat-up comic book about the Fantastic Four and their journey to the planet of the Skrulls.
The Skrulls were born shape-shifters who could become any creature or thing they could imagine. They could be birds or monkeys or even giant bugs. They had the ability to make themselves look human and pass among men with no one knowing the difference.
“If you could turn into anything you wanted, what would it be?” Bruno asked his new and best friend.
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Wa l t e r M o s l e y
Thomas had never thought about being different before that day. It was a novel idea, and he found no words to answer.
“I’d turn into a white man,” Bruno said, impatient with his friend’s deliberation. “No, no, no. First I’d turn into Lana McKinney and look up under my shirt at them fine titties.
Then I’d turn into a white man. You know why?”
Thomas shook his head, still trying to find an answer to the first question.
“ ’Cause if I was a white dude I could be all up there in Beverly Hills and Hollywood and on the cowboy ranches an’
shit like that. An’ they wouldn’t even know that some niggah be all up in they business, so they’d all act natural and then I’d get’em.”
Thomas was lost in Bruno’s sea of words. What would he be? And titties and white men and Hollywood and cowboys.
“I think I’d be a snake,” Thomas said haltingly. “Yeah. A snake.”
“A rattlesnake? Then you could bite Alvin Johnson and kill him, but nobody’d ever know it was you.”
“I don’t care what kind of snake,” Thomas said. “I just wanna be a snake ’cause then I could go all the places I want.”
“Like what?” Bruno asked.
“A snake can climb trees and go real high, and he could go in a hole down in the ground. And he could get through any fence or thornbush and see everything.”
“But a snake don’t have no hands. How would you eat?”
“Like snakes do.”
“Not me. If I was a animal it’a be a tiger or a eagle.”
That afternoon Bruno got tired and had to go to bed.
Monique walked Thomas back home so that Alvin Johnson and his gang didn’t beat him up.
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F o r t u n a t e S o n
“How come you’re wearin’ them tore-up pants?” Monique asked as they walked.
“ ’Cause my daddy says that I have to wear’em because I let those boys beat me up.”
“You didn’t let’em. They bigger than you. Don’t he know that?”
“He doesn’t care about that,” little Lucky replied.
“Why you so different from other little boys?” Monique asked.
“I didn’t know that I was different.”
“Yeah you is,” Monique assured him. They were walking down Central Avenue under a too-bright sun. “You talk half like a niggah an’ half like somebody white. An’ you don’t know nuthin’ on TV, an’ you always lookin’ at stuff real close like you crazy or sumpin’. An’ if somebody tell you what to do, you just do it like you they slave, but if you don’t wanna talk you mouth be shet like a clam.”
“I like you, Monique,” Thomas said.
“There you go again bein’ different. I’m tellin’ you how weird you is an’ then you tell me how much you like me.”
“But I do,” the boy said. “You’re nice to me, an’ Bruno too.”
Elton met Thomas and Monique at the front door.
“Where’s the fat boy?” Thomas’s blood-father asked.
“Bruno’s sleep,” Thomas said.
“And who are you?” Elton asked Monique.
“Bruno’s sistah. I walked Lucky heah ’cause I’m going t’see my auntie ovah on Fi’ty-second Street.”
Thomas pulled on Monique’s arm until she bent over enough for him to kiss her cheek.
