?Uh-huh.?
Socrates lost himself for a few minutes in the pivot from right to left as he let the big, rotating, steel wool brush grind away the yellowing wax. Darryl followed with his squeegee pushing the extra water along behind the big chromium machine.
About half the way through Socrates stopped and pushed the red button between the handlebars. The motor died and the brush slowed, making the sound of a snake through the dead grasses of summer.
?No, I wasn't sad,? Socrates said. ?Uh-uh. I mean it was sad to see that nameplate on the ground. But you know Right made up his own mind. He took them pills.?
They were the only people in the store. Both man and boy liked the solitude and freedom of their early morning jobs.
?I put your crystal down there. Luvia thought it was real nice'a you. But I wasn't sad,? Socrates said again. ?No, uh-uh. I went to the park with this man name'a Milton. We went to MacArthur Park downtown and he said about a man he knew that died. They was friends kinda like me an' Burke.?
?Did you have some wine?? Darryl asked.
?He had somethin',? Socrates said. ?But I didn't. You know you don't always have to be high to have a good time.?
?Uh-huh, I know. I just asked is all.?
?It was real pretty yesterday,? Socrates said. ?And it was strange too.?
?What you mean??
?You ever see one'a them big mural paintin's that they put up on the wall? The kinds about a whole big place with lots and lotsa people? The kind where nobody is special but they just doin' what they do? Sittin' on a park bench or throwin' a Frisbee.?
?Yeah I seen 'em.?
?And the pictures of the people ain't real good like no photograph. You know. Maybe somebody's head is just a circle or sumpin' but you know what it means, you know that it's a man or woman.?
?Yeah.?
?When I closed my eyes I could see all the people in the park just like in one'a them murals. I mean they were still in my mind. But it was like Right was there too and also this Jewish man that Milton was talkin' 'bout. There was some girl he mentioned too. You know what I mean??
?Uh-uh,? Darryl uttered, shaking his head to accent his confusion.
?It's like you take somebody with you even if they ain't there, even if they dead. It's like Martin Luther King. I can see him in my mind but I ain't never met him. Or like when I saw the boats they had on the pond there. I thought about you and how you'd like to get in one'a them and row around.?
?So? That just mean you thinkin' 'bout somebody.?
?Yeah. I was thinkin' an' I wasn't sad or mad. I was just thinkin' and everything was fine. Even though there was all this bad stuff and sad stuff in my mind everything was still fine. Yeah.?
the mugger
H
ey you! Yeah you, mothahfuckah!? The man was young, not more than twenty, but built for power. He swaggered as he walked and his eyes had as much murder in them as Socrates had ever seen.
It was just sunset and Socrates had taken a shortcut down one alley that led to the alley that he lived on. He had just come from Tri-X Check Cashing on Central and had his full week's salary in an envelope in his pocket.
There was nobody else in sight. And even if there had been Socrates doubted if they would have interfered with the trouble about to come down.
?Stop right there, mothahfuckah!? the big man commanded.
But Socrates had already stopped. He spread his legs wide enough to give him both stability and power as the young giant approached. Close up he looked impossible with muscle and rage. Those murderous eyes were squashed down, murky things that searched out weak spots and gazed down long corridors of pain.
?Gimme the money an' you might get off with a ass-whippin',? the man said.
