Victor LaValle - Ancient History: from Slapboxing with Jesus

Horses girl was a socialist and not too pretty. They had had a kid. She was taking all his time. Me and him hardly knew each other anymore. We were months out of high school.

She learned to avoid uswhen she visited we gave Horse hell and her silence. It was purely a mistake when she pulled up to Horses crib and we were on the stoop. She had their baby wrapped tight in a gray blanket, saying good-bye to some friend who was driving; she was smiling, but when she turned her face fell. Melissa watched the four of us: Horse, Asia, Mel and me. Except for Horse, we began laughing. I did, then Asia and Mel followed. This had become so regular it was a kind of greeting. Horse walked to her and his arm went out like a kid grabbing the side of the pool to get steadied. He dipped his head to see his son. Asia went inside to use the phone. I thought you were going to be alone, she tried to whisper.

He said, They just showed up. Thats how I knew he was still, a little, my boy Horse: he had lied, we had been around forever.

At the stairs she trudged between me and Mel; he looked up, was going to nod because Mel was polite, his dad raised him that way. Mel was fat and dumb, but the two had no connection; Asia was fast and dumb, but no one ever tried to blame one on the other. But Mel was going to nod so I reached out and mushed his cheek to move his gaze. Even though he got mad at me, it was like Id shaken it loosehow we wanted to act toward herso Mel looked down as she passed.

Melissa had given a plastic bag to Horse, who carried it as tender as she did that kid. When he got to where I was on the stairs I snatched it from his hands, looked inside. She had brought a loaf of banana bread, fresh enough it was warm through the bag. I loved the smell but wouldnt inhale in front of them, it would be like approving of something. There were sheets of paper too, flyers, black ink on yellow paper, printouts stating that next Wednesday was the seventy-first anniversary of the founding of the East Side Chamber of Commerce; listed all the wrongs theyd done to the poor, the struggling. There would be a rally. This was the stuff that did it, she was a little older, a college student; quick to teach, quick to lecture. Horse would try to preach to me her thirdhand theories when all I wanted was to watch a movie. I ripped the ten identical sheets and handed them back to my boy.

Melissa asked, Do you ever go home?

Horse laughed a little, straining to get out a sound. I looked at them. I wasnt going to hit her. I was. I said, Horse, take this bitch back to Kent State.

He shook bad enough for both of them and I waited for him to do something. To swing on me. Imagine, if he had thrown blows over a woman, that wouldve been it, even stupid-ass Mel would have spit on him. I mean, Id heard of men dying over that shit and once youre dead, what do you think, the girl mourns you for the rest of her life? Please, sooner than is fair shes fucking again. Men and women arent that different. But Horse didnt have to decide, Melissa touched his neck and whispered, Lets go inside. So they did.

Asia came along in a minute. Across the street and half a block right was the small space quarantined behind a tall gate. It was a grassy yard; in the center a light green metal dome popped out of the ground. Kids said it was a reservoir, but I wasnt sure. Horse would have known, but I didnt ask him too many questions anymore. Plenty times, Horse asked my opinion about some female he was spending time with, if I thought this one would cheat, if another seemed like good ass. But with this one, Melissa, she had just appeared. I couldnt even imagine where theyd met. Horse never explained.

The three of us left together; we made no noise, not even feet hitting heavy on the pavement; there was just the sound of Horse locking his front door.

I went with him, went in, but it was a mistake. I was out shopping for Melissa when I came around the corner and Ahab was opening the door to the recruiters office. Marines. He was more than surprised, seeing me; he hadnt gone to the office near us. He had traveled. Oh shit, Ahab cried when I touched his shoulder. What the fuck you doing way out here, Horse?

I pointed to the door. I wasnt going in there. What about you?

There was no excuse coming, just his big mouth, open. Youd think Id caught him kissing a man, he was so shocked. Ahab couldnt even move when two guys tried to get in; I had to push him back. They passed between us. I looked insidethe whole front of the place was glass; the Marines watched us greedily. I was sure that already their hands were on the sign-up contracts, ready to flash pens like knives. He explained, I need to do something.

Do something else, I said.

Like what? He laughed. You know another girl with an apartment in Manhattan?

I held the door and shoved him inside; the place was spare: posters of healthy-looking guys carrying guns or swords, their hats bright as the white of a boiled egg were the only decorations; there were three desks, and behind each a smiling serviceman, one black, one white, one Latino. I was surprised by the efficiency. They had the major constituencies covered. A couch sat to the right, in front of it a small table with magazines neatly stacked. The white guy started pitching, Well hello, gentlemen.

The black Marine looked at me. You two here to join us?

I thought, Not me, pawn; I said, Not me. My friend. The four of them smiled like this fact alone deserved praise. The white Marine said, Call me Dan, to Ahab. Its good to see a young man like you ready to make some money, have some fun. Do something.