Gone Fishin by Walter Mosley

Author:Walter Mosley
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Tags: Unknown
Published: 2010-12-08T23:49:17.940000+00:00

Chapter Nine

By the time I had the heart to get out of bed it was noon. Miss Alexander was sitting at the counter in the back and the cardplayers were still at their table in the corner; Sweet William had joined them. He waved at me and I smiled, or at least I tried to.

‘How you sleep, Easy?’ he asked.

‘Like a corpse,’ I groaned. ‘Woke up like one too. But when I looked in the closet I saw some clothes there... I din’t mean t’kick you outta yo’ room.’

‘They’s lotsa beds in Pariah.’ He winked at me and for a second I felt like I was talking to Mouse.

I could see that Miss Alexander was waiting for me at her counter. I felt like a whole flock of wayward sheep; like I needed a herder to set me straight.

‘You don’t look so good, Easy,’ Miss Alexander said.

She was wearing a red dress that was so bright I had to look away.

‘No, I just look bad right when I wake up,’ I said. I was sick but, like a fool, I didn’t want to tell her because I was afraid that she’d keep me from leaving. ‘I be ready t’leave tomorrah mornin’.’

‘Ain’t you gonna go t’church wit’ us tomorrah?’

‘I gotta be gittin’ back.’

‘Even a sinner got a little time fo’the Lord, Easy.’

‘Well, maybe... What time is the service?’

‘Reverend’s a farmer too, so he start early; us’ally ‘bout eight.’ Then she smiled. ‘Theresa wasn’t too happy ‘bout you last night.’

I felt my face flush.

‘I think she likes you,’ Miss Alexander went on. ‘An’ there you was laid out just like a pile’a dead wood.’

She laughed and I did too.

‘Why’ont you go over wit’ the men an’ I get you some food.’

I sat in a chair against the wall and listened to the men talk while they played. Miss Alexander brought me a plate of dirty rice and greens but I didn’t have any stomach for it. I put the plate on the floor and a dog climbed out from under the table and wolfed it down. It looked like one of Reese’s dogs; hungry, near death.

The men talked about everything: gardens and women and white people. It felt good to listen to them laugh and trade lies. It’s good to be a man with no worries, among friends. I remember every story they told but, for the most part, they didn’t have anything to do with me.

One of the men was called Buck. He was older, maybe sixty, and he had a high strained laugh.

‘Hit me!’ he said to William, then he flung down three cards. He was a sly card player. You could tell he was tricky because every time he’d take some cards he’d try to keep the others’ attention distracted by bringing up some shocking news.

‘Reese Corn is dyin’,’ Buck said as he shuffled his cards.

I don’t know how she could tell from across the room but Miss Alexander strolled over as soon as they started to talk about Reese.

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