Another Kind of Madness by Ed Pavlić

Author:Ed Pavlić
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Milkweed Editions
Published: 2019-05-05T16:00:00+00:00

Cass emerged from the washroom, clicked a penlight in his right hand and, in his best attempt at an usher’s instruction, murmured a low,

–This way.

Ndiya followed. When she came through the doorway, a dim red light was spilling out of the ceiling fixtures. It fell around her neck like a collar of ermine. She put a hand on Cass’s shoulder, drew him back, and whispered,

–Nice touch, Cass. The lights.

–That’s right.

Cass smiled, then winked.

–No shame in that, right?

– …

–Come on.

She was shocked, she had to admit, at the human density in the room. It was a divided density. All the seats occupied by black folks. Some she knew, like Lee Williams and Lucious Christopher, were seated in booths, others at the bar. She may have glimpsed Muna’s red crest of hair in a booth along the right side of the room. The white people stood in the capital T of standing room. The stem of the T led between the booths and the bar and was crossed in the space at the end of the room against the blacked-out windows and the fogged-over front door. The place was packed.

She didn’t look, she said she wouldn’t, but she heard Shame’s chord change. The sound was still deepened as if amplified. Possibly, she thought, the crowd of people caused it: Just less air in the room? Human acoustics? Shame’s right hand shuffled a deck of quadruplets now, three sets each, each with the forth note bent in a different direction. As she followed Cass, who made the way, she could see it: the left-hand chord was the crowded room, thick; the right hand was finding its way through. She could feel it bumping into folks, into things, a stool, and pausing to keep it upright. Keep it civil. She heard Shame’s right hand step on someone’s shoe and apologize. And some echo down low in the left hand. No, it was below that, the low echo said, “Alright, it’s alright.” She listened again, something happening below Shame’s left hand was saying, “Whatever happens is alright.” This was certainly a new sound for Shame.

Her hand on Cass’s thick shoulder as they moved through the edge of the crowd, she pulled Cass back again and whispered,

–Is this possible?

–No. It’s not.

Cass had answered too loudly, and on purpose.

–Cass, shhh.

So, then, even louder:

–Girl, please, this is my place!

And then, like a diagonal flick of a wrist:

–Your seat, saved, just for you—

And facing up to her, face closed, Ndiya saw a bald, dark-skinned man in a black, open-necked shirt and a woman with short-cropped hair and silver earrings dangling. Next to an open space on the facing seat sat a big honey-brown man with a shadow of a beard along his jaw, steady staring through the crowd standing between him and his view of the front door.

Ndiya took her seat, mouthed a mocking “Thank you” to Cass and smiled while mouthing “Evening” to the table. The two across from her nodded blankly. Ndiya thought, “Oh, great.” Cass’s profile descended, exaggeratedly, into her view as if he was about to kiss the tabletop.

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