Soul Circus

“THERE he goes,” said McKinley, talking into his cell, watching through the windshield of the Benz as the Chevelle backed out of its space and drove from the parking lot.

“That Strange’s boy?” said Montgomery, his cell to his ear, sitting behind the wheel of his late-model Z in the lot near the Benz.

“His partner.”

“How you know?”

“The Coates cousins said some white boy was in Strange’s car while he went to talk to Stokes at her apartment.”

And I been told.

“Oh, yeah.”

“Boy’s stupid, too. Trying to be all undercover and shit, driving a loud-ass car. Anyway, we better hurry up. Man’s prob’ly just going to take a pee.”

“We gonna go in the back?”

“Like we said. Let me get off here and call Inez. You follow me then, behind the store.”

In the salon, Devra sat at her work station, watching as Inez Brown went to the phone. She spoke to the caller briefly, then ended the call. Inez went around the counter, taking her keys with her, and locked the front door.

Devra looked out into the parking lot. It had begun to get dark.

“Come here, Juwan,” said Devra. The boy got up from where he was playing, his action figures scattered around him, and walked to her. She brought him into her arms.

“What’s wrong, Mama?” said Juwan. He could see something funny in his mother’s eyes.

“Nothin’. You just stay here with me, now.”

Inez Brown went into the back room, then quickly returned to the front of the shop, coming over to where Devra sat in a chair, holding the boy.

“Why you lockin’ the door?” said Devra. “It ain’t closin’ time.”

“It is for you,” said Brown, showing a little row of white teeth. It was the first time Devra could remember seeing her smile. The smile scared her some.

“Why you doin’ this?”

“You don’t know? Girl, you fucked up. Runnin’ that pretty-ass mouth of yours.”

“I never did you no wrong.”

“I just don’t like you, is what it is. Did I mention that you were fired, too?” Brown laughed from somewhere shadowed and deep. As she laughed, Horace McKinley walked in from the back room.

“Let’s go,” said McKinley. “Out the back.”

“Where?” said Devra, her voice catching as she stood, keeping her hand on her son’s shoulder.

“You’re coming with me,” said McKinley. “The boy’s gonna stay with Mike.”

“No.”

“No nothin’. I got no time to argue with you. You didn’t listen, and now we got to do somethin’ else. We’re just gonna put you somewhere, let you think about the things you did that I told you not to do. See how quick you get to missing your little boy.”

Devra backed up a step. McKinley reached over and grabbed her arm. She flinched as his fingers dug into her flesh. He pulled her toward him and she let him, grabbing her purse off the table as she went past. Her knees were weak, but she moved and brought the boy along. They stopped to pick up a few of the wrestling figures and kept on. It felt like she was floating as they made their way to the back room. The back door was open, and they stood in the frame. McKinley’s Benz was in the alley and a black Z was idling behind it. The one named Mike, who had kind eyes and played nice with her son, was standing beside the driver’s door.

“I don’t want to hear no screamin’ or nothin’ like it,” said McKinley. “Say good-bye quick.”

Devra got down on her haunches so that she was close to her son. He was crying, but trying not to.

“Baby,” said Devra, “I want you to go with that man. The one you were playing with before?”

“I want to go with you.”

“You know where home is, right?” said Devra. She whispered the street name and apartment number in his ear, and the name of Mrs. Roberts, who lived on their floor.

“I know.”

“We gonna be there together, real soon. I’ll catch up with you, hear? It’s gonna be all right.”

She kissed him roughly and smelled his scalp. She turned him then and pushed on his back until he took a few steps. She watched him walk toward the black car. Mike opened the passenger door for him, and he got inside the Z.

Devra moved toward the Benz. Nearing the car, she caught the eyes of Mike Montgomery and held his gaze. Looking at Montgomery deep, she wasn’t so afraid for her son anymore. But she wondered if she’d ever hold him again.

THE girl had come home from work, taken a shower, and then was just gone. She’d left without telling him where she was going. Said something about some sodas in the refrigerator and a key in a bowl by the front door, that was it. He heard the door close, and that was how he’d known she’d left out the place. He hadn’t said nothin’ out of line to her or nothin’ like that. Girl just wasn’t social, is what it was.

Mario was bored. He hadn’t talked to no one since Donut had called him that last time, and his brother hadn’t called all day. He had turned on the TV, but there wasn’t anything on worth watching. Bitch didn’t even have the cable. Who the fuck didn’t have cable these days? Even the no-job-havin’ motherfuckers he knew paid for the service. If she had it, at least he could sit and watch some of those joints they ran on 106 amp; Park, that video show they had on BET.

He decided to go out on the street and try his luck, sell a couple of vials of that fake crack.

He was off his turf. Somewhere in Northeast – he hadn’t bothered to take notice of the particulars when Dewayne drove him to the woman’s place. Truth was, he didn’t know where he was. No idea. But that was cool. An opportunity, since no one around here knew who he was. He could sell some of these dummies and then disappear. Move on, soon as the heat died down. All he had to worry about was the police.

He gathered up his shit and went out the door. Going down the stairwell of the apartment house, he could smell himself, and it wasn’t pretty. It was the clothes he’d been wearing these past few days, that’s what it was. He could put some deodorant on; he’d seen some in that girl’s medicine cabinet. Or take a shower, like he’d done at Donut’s, if he had the time.

He went down to the corner. It had gotten dark out. Not full dark yet, but near to it. There was some kids out playin’, but nobody else. A market was on the corner, but wasn’t anybody hanging outside of it. And on the corner was a street lamp that hadn’t been broken. That would be a good place to stand, under that light.

He went there and assumed the position. One hand in his pocket, kind of staring out into the street. Like he was waiting for a ride but in no hurry to get it. He’d seen enough of these boys to know how they did it.

Some cars passed. A white car turned the corner, and Mario stepped back into the shadows. It was a Crown Victoria with big side mirrors, but it wasn’t the police. Just some kids who liked to drive