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Walter Mosley
1
to be a sailor. Floyd and I had a rough time of it. When 2
he finally fired me, he told me that I was a shame to my 3
race. That reminded me of Uncle Brent, who always 4
added, “The human race.”
5
After that I wasn’t a welcomed guest in their home.
6
Floyd rarely gave me a nod if we passed in the street. I 7
didn’t mind much. Floyd wanted to act like he was my fa-8
ther, like it was him who did for me. Aunt Peaches was 9
nice, but she was so formal that talking to her was like be-10
ing read to from a book of etiquette.
11
“I needed to ask you something,” I said, having given 12
up any hope that we could be friendly.
13
“I really don’t have much time, Charles. Floyd’s coming 14
home soon and I have to get his dinner.”
15
“Well, you know I lost my job,” I started.
16
“Oh?”
17
“I had some money left over from that T-bill Mom left 18
for me when I turned thirty, but that’s all gone.” I paused 19
but Peaches had no consolations to give. “And, well, I 20
kind of borrowed some money on the house. I’m looking 21
for work, but I still have to come up with the payment.
22
It’s already two weeks overdue.”
23
Peaches didn’t say a word, but the quality of her silence 24
had changed. I could almost feel her growing anxiety.
25
“Peaches?”
26
“Why do you want to do this to me, Charles?”
27 S
“What am I doing to you?”
28 R
“You’re thirty-nine years old —”
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ManInMyBasemnt_HCtext3P.qxd 10/24/03 8:16 PM Page 45
The Man in My Basement
