After the Lights Go Out by John Vercher

Author:John Vercher [Vercher, John]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Pushkin Press Ltd
Published: 2022-06-15T00:00:00+00:00

HERE WE GO AGAIN

I’ve got to be honest with you, my guy. I don’t get you.

It’s like you’re determined to be this sad sack all the time when, the way I see it, things are finally lined up the way you’ve always wanted.

Look, I understand why you wanted the dog. I do. I didn’t before, but it’s clear now. You couldn’t take care of your old man and him not knowing who you were, it made that little boy inside go all fetal and weepy. You needed your teddy bear, so hey, a dog will do.

But it’s time to stop holding on to all these things you think you’re supposed to be. Acting the way you think people want you to. Thinking you’ve got to be this model son for your poor old suffering daddy.

Fuck people. Fuck them all. Not one of them has been there for you the way you needed. As long as I can remember, it’s always been about us—you and me against the world, baby. But you’ve got to stop all this whining about every little thing. I can’t take it.

Hard truth time, homeboy. You never wanted that dog, and now that he’s gone, you’re relieved, and you know it. That dog wasn’t going to do anything but hold you back—just like your old man. You can get mad at me all you want, but you know I’m right, especially about your pops.

You know why you don’t feel anything about him being sent back to the home? It isn’t because of what he said to you, I can tell you that. Act all surprised about him dropping the n-bomb on you if you want, but you know as well as I do that that’s no surprise to you. Lying about it to me is the same as lying to yourself. You wanted to believe different because that let you be mad at your mama. Gave you an excuse. Truth is truth whether you want to face it or not.

What, you thought you could just go on denying it up until the day he died, and you wouldn’t never have to confront it?

For real?

I thought you were supposed to be the cat that runs toward a fight, not away from one.

I’m saying, dude—embrace this shit.

You couldn’t take care of the dog and you didn’t want to anyway. Fuck him, he’s gone. Boo hoo.

You can finally admit your pops is a racist piece of shit. He’s dead to you now, at least until he up and kicks the bucket for real. Fuck him. He’s gone. Boo hoo.

Your Mama walked out on you because she couldn’t hang? Fuck her. She’s gone. Boo hoo.

Except—did she walk out on you? Or did she walk out on him?

Is there a difference?

Are you sure?

Ah, but that’s not important right now. Forget I said anything.

You don’t need nothing or nobody but the fight.

We all we got, baby!

There’s nothing standing in your way anymore. You can be the “you” you always wanted to be. The one you always knew you were.

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