Straight Man

Angelo out of jail. I suspect he probably could have made his own bail, but he’s too stubborn to spend money this way. He’s lonely at home, and residing at the courthouse gave him people to talk to. Retired from the force for almost a decade, he still knows half the cops in Philadelphia. It was probably old home week in the slammer. Now it appears he’s going to live with us until his court date later in the summer. Lily has already impressed upon him that our rural life will be very different from what he’s used to in Philly. Very few people will come knocking on our door in Allegheny Wells, and there should be no need to shoot them. Any of them.
    “But they insist, right?” Angelo continues. “Raschid has come by a couple times when I was hither, or maybe yon, so I’m a little in arrears, payment-wise. Just give us the fuckin’ money, they say, which makes me think I’m right, this seven-foot Negro is no brother of Raschid’s, who is always a polite boy, like I said. So I tell them, fine, wait right here a second, like I’m going to get the money. I go get something all right, but it ain’t the money. My pump action is what I get. I keep itright in the hall closet for unforeseen circumstances like this one. I’m gone maybe five seconds, and when I get back I show them what I’ve brought with me. I explain to them again, still polite, about my lifelong policy of not giving money in either large or small amounts to seven-foot-tall Negroes I’ve never seen before. This time the two eight-foot Negroes, they seem to understand this practice whereas they didn’t before, but the one who claims to be Raschid’s brother, he’s still giving me the look, like he hasn’t noticed what I’m holding. He wants to know where do I get off pointing such a thing at him when all he’s trying to do is collect money I owe. I say to myself, This fuckin’ kid was born without ears. Maybe I should feel sorry for him, going through life deaf. But, so there’s no misunderstanding, I go through the whole thing again, except louder this time so I’m sure he can hear me.
    “I tell him that I have this pump action in my hands because, though it breaks my heart to admit it, this is now a necessary thing where I live. I even take the time to give him some historical perspective on the situation. I explain how when my daughter was little we used to let her ride all over the neighborhood on her bicycle, because back then it was safe. This was before the days when seven-foot-tall Negroes you’ve never seen before showed up on your stoop demanding money. This was before there was prostitutes and crack dealers on every other corner and every fourth or fifth car was a pimpmobile with dark windows. I tell them the reason I’m taking time to explain all this is because they’re too young to remember. Back then, I was the only guy in a ten-block radius who had a gun in his house, and the only reason
I
had one was because I was a cop. Now everybody on the block’s armed to the teeth. I tell them it ain’t none of my business, but I wouldn’t go up on any more porches if I was them. I describe some of the advanced weaponry that resides behind some of the doors we can see from my porch.
    “The two eight-foot Negroes, they’re backing down the porch steps slow. They started backing up as soon as they saw the pump action, so there’s at least some intelligence there. But Raschid’s brother, he stands his ground. He tells me to lower the shotgun and he’ll go, like he’s talking to some moron. Lower the shotgun and he’ll go, my ass. But this is what he actually says to me. If I don’t lower the shotgun, he ain’t going nowhere. He tells me this like
he’s
the one holding the shotgunon me. Which I do not fucking believe. I think to myself, This poor fucking giant Negro is not only born without ears, he’s confused in his head. He can’t tell the difference between a shotgun pointed at his middle and one hanging on the wall above the fireplace, but he’s about to learn. I tell him I’ll count to three and I’ll do it nice and loud on account of he was born without ears. I know everybody understands this situation because the two eight-foot Negroes have backed all the way down the steps and out through the gate and they’re calling to their friend to come on before I do this thing I’ve promised to do. They keep calling to him, even while I’m counting, Come
on
, nigger—a word they use on each other which my