“Good morning, Charlie,” Bennet said as I stooped 24
over to slide the tray and glass under the cage door.
25
“The name is Charles Dodd-Blakey. You can call me 26
Mr. Dodd-Blakey, Mr. Bennet. That will keep us civil S 27
over the next two weeks.” It was a voice I hadn’t heard in R 28
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Walter Mosley
1
many years — fourteen years. The tone I used on Uncle 2
Brent when he was lying in his bed dying, smelling up my 3
home with death.
4
Bennet’s thin eyebrows raised. He took up the tray and 5
stood, using his toe to push the previous night’s tray out.
6
I realized that I was expected to take his dirty dishes and 7
wash them — like a manservant, a butler doing his mas-8
ter’s dirty work for him.
9
“Okay.” He paused. “Mr. Dodd-Blakey. Good morning 10
to you. Did you sleep well?”
11
“I’ll connect a hose from the sink that you can use to 12
wash your dishes,” I replied. “It’s just cold water but 13
that’ll have to do. You want me to leave the light on?”
14
“I didn’t get my books last night,” he said. “Would you 15
get them for me?”
16
“Which one did you want?”
17
This curt question caught Bennet up short. He put out 18
a hand and touched the metal slats of his cage. For a mo-19
ment hardness shone in his eyes, but then he said, “The 20
first volume in the
21
I complied without comment. The book was a tight fit 22
under the cage door and the cover ripped.
23
“Maybe you could open the door for the other ones,”
24
Bennet suggested.
25
“The only reason that lock comes off,” I said, “is when 26
you get your ass out of here.”
27 S
“You sound angry, Mr. Dodd-Blakey.”
28 R
