Lover Man by Alston Anderson

Author:Alston Anderson
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: McNally Editions
Published: 2023-02-07T00:00:00+00:00

I folded the letter and put it back in my pocket and went downstairs. School was over by this time, and there were about three horse-shoe games going on in back of the dormitory. Bert McCleoud and Lightning were playing on the third landing, so I went over to them.

‘Who’s winning?’ I said.

‘Two to one my favour,’ Bert said.

‘I got the winner,’ I said.

‘The hell you have,’ Lightning said. ‘We’re playing best four out of seven, World Series style.’

I spread my handkerchief on a stone and sat on it. Then I took the letter from my pocket and read it again. I wondered if I should tell her about the mistake in ‘your’ for ‘you’re’, and decided I wouldn’t. I sat and watched Bert and Lightning play for a while, then got up and went back upstairs. When I got to my room Geechie was lying in bed reading.

‘Where the hell you been?’ I said.

‘At your mother’s house,’ Geechie said. ‘I hear you got thrown out of class.

‘Parvam puellam accusatis…’ I said. ‘Finish it.’

‘Quod rosas portant,’ Geechie said.

‘Portant your nappy head,’ I said. ‘Portat.’

‘I hear you got thrown out of class.’

‘Yeah,’ I said. ‘Me and Jimmy Clark.’

‘What were y’all up to?’

‘Just kidding around,’ I said. ‘I got a letter from Del.’

‘Did you, sure enough?’

‘I sure did.’

‘Let’s see it.’

‘Hell, no.’

‘Come on, old gal, let’s have a look-see.’

‘Hell, no.’

‘What’d she say?’

‘She says I’m a good-looking son of a bitch and she loves me better than Juliet loved Romeo.’

‘You ugly bastard, what’d she say, sure enough?’

‘She says your feet stink and you don’t love your Jesus.’ Geechie threw a book at me and I caught it and said, ‘She says I can see her at the social this week.’

‘Nice!’ Geechie said. ‘Think you can handle it?’

‘Handle what?’ I said.

‘You know…’

‘Hell,’ I said. ‘I’ve had more trim than you’ll ever have if you live to be a hundred and five.’

‘Yeah,’ Geechie said. ‘And every one of them was named Minnie Fingers.’

‘You’re a black liar,’ I said.

Geechie jumped up from the bed. ‘There ain’t but three things I hate in life,’ he said, shaking a finger in my face. ‘Niggers, flies and people who call me a black liar. I got you on two counts, so come on, son, let’s get it ON!’ We both stripped to the waist, then we pushed the desk and chairs aside and sparred around the middle of the room. It was mostly bobbing and weaving and footwork, because we never hit each other very hard. When we stopped Geechie said, ‘I hope you make out, old gal. She’s a nice girl.’

Del.

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