Myers - The Mouse Rap

Ka-phoomp! Ka-phoomp! Da Doom Da Dooom !

Ka-phoomp! Ka-phoomp! Da Doom Da Dooom !

You can call me Mouse, cause thats my tag

Im into it all, everythings my bag

You know I can run, you know I can hoop

I can do it alone, or in a group

My ace is Styx, hell always do

Add Bev and Sheri, and you got my crew

My tag is Mouse, and itll never fail

And just like a mouse I got me a tale

Ka-phoomp! Ka-phoomp! Da Doom Da Dooom !

Ka-phoomp! Ka-phoomp! Da Doom Da Dooom !

I should have known something was up, I said as Styx and I left the library.

Yo, Mouse, you got to get it off your mind.

Get it off my mind? How would you like to come home and find some dude making eyes at your mother?

Hes not some dude. Hes your father.

You remember the time I spent the weekend at your house?

Yeah.

How many times did my mother call?

A few times.

At least three times the first day and twice the second day. We turned up Amsterdam Avenue. The kids from J.H.S. 43 were just getting out, and I had to almost shout to get Styx to hear me.

Well, she only called me twice the whole week I was in computer camp during the Easter break. I should have known something was up.

She say anything about your father when she called? Styx asked.

The second time she called she said he was there. But I figured he was probably just in the country for a few days and dropped by to say hello or something. You knowgrab a cup of coffee and get on back to the Middle East where he was working.

You have to miss him, Styx says.

All weve seen of the dude for the last eight years is the monthly check that Mom gets, I said. Last June I bought the mailman a Fathers Day present.

So what are they actually doing?

What they are actually doing is dating, I said. That is what they are doing. Now ask me what he is doing.

Whats your father doing? Styx jumped back on the curb as a gypsy cab cut in front of us.

Mr. Paul Douglas is making them bad noises like he want to be somebodys daddy, I said. You know, talking to me about life with a capital L , and stuff like that.

You want to come to my house and tube out awhile? Styx asked.

Styx has got this dynamite television set. Its about a hundred inches wide and ninety high. When you tube out with Styx, you are seriously tubed out! I wanted to, but I couldnt make it.

I got to turn in my Study Skills notebook tomorrow, I said. Or I wont get a grade on it, and my final grade will be 79 instead of the 82 I so richly deserve.

Fridays the last day of school, Styx said.

And today being Wednesday does not give The Mouse a whole lot of time to be making up a whole notebook, I said.

How are you going to do it?

The divine Sheri Jones, having already copped an A, has consented to let me use her notebook as a model.

And she just let you take it? Styx said as we stopped in front of his crash. Thats not like Sheri, man.

You just dont appreciate The Mouses charm, I said.

Its got to be something, Styx said. See you tomorrow.

I watched the Styx take his front stairs two at a time, dodge around a guy playing checkers with himself, and disappear. Styx is my ace, my main man, my mighty wonder on the court, and my mighty thunder off the court. Hes fourteen, the same age as The Mouse, and we are both wonders, each in our own special way. I might be just a little better-looking than he is, but I dont hold that against him. Oh yeah, and I guess Im a lot more charming.

I am not that big a dude. Five foot three and three-quarter inches exactly. I weigh in at one hundred and twenty-seven and one-half pounds in sneakers and one hundred and twenty-seven and three-quarter pounds in shoes. So you kind of see where Mouse comes from. My real name is Fred, but only lames call me that.

Check out Styx. He is six foot three inches tall. Did you hear that? Six foot three inches tall . Hes so big that when we walk down the street I got to decide if I want to walk on his sunny side and cop the vitamin D or his shady side to relax my tan. And he plays ball. Did I say he plays ball? He is righteous! The man can shoot from the outside. The man can shoot from the inside. He can slam, he can jam, he can do the Whimmy Wham! And if you dont know what that means it dont matter because whatever it means, you cant stop him from doing it. Thats how good he is.

And check this out. He dont even like to play ball. No lie. Hes into art. He does a little photography, a little music, a little chess. He hoops when theres nothing else to do.

Me, I can hoop. I can definitely hoop. I aint jamming but Im scamming. You may look great but you will look late. You got the ball against me and you blink and all you got left is the stink because I got the ball and gone. I played one on one with my shadow and my shadow couldnt keep up. But thats about all I do, which is now a problem since my dad is living in the city and dropping by all the time.

Is that all you do? he asked. Play basket-ball?

I watch television, I said. I knew that wasnt going to get it, but I couldnt think of anything that quick.

Watching television is hardly doing something, he says.

About the third time he ran that down it began to wear heavy on The Mouses ear, but then I peeped his hole card. See, I was supposed to feel bad. Then he was going to run his play about how we could do things together. Then Moms was supposed to check that out and get all teary-eyed so he could make his main play, which I figured had to be to get back together with Moms.

A word about Moms. She works for the telephone company. She is smart, and she is real cute in an almost foxy kind of way. Shes little, too, like yours truly. But mainly she is good people. I can see why Pops wants to get back with her, but I cant see why he ever split in the first place. The way I figure, if you stay, you own the day, if you straystay away!

Okay. The Mouse comes up with a plan. I got to find something heavy to do over the summer so I can tell Mr. D (Im not calling him Dad) that Im too busy to be doing anything he wants to do. This shouldnt be that much of a problem because theres always something going on in the neighborhood.

I reached my building and started upstairs to my crash. On the way I see Mrs. Tice. Mrs. Tice is a snap. Every day she takes her cat out for a walk. No lie. She got a little ugly cat named Black-stone and she takes him out for a walk on a leash. Shes nosy, too.

Hello, Mouse, how are you?

Fine, maam, I say.

You know, that man I saw your mother with the other day looks just like an insurance sales-man I used to know, she said. Does he sell insurance?

I dont know what he does, I said. I see him hanging around the house a lot, though.