Them: A Novel by Nathan McCall

Author:Nathan McCall [McCall, Nathan]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: bestseller
ISBN: 9781416549154
Publisher: Simon and Schuster
Published: 2007-01-02T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter 25

After the meeting, Barlowe and Tyrone went outside and joined a group of people gathered along the sidewalk in front of the church. Mr. Smith grabbed Zelda's hand and led her off without saying so much as one good-bye.

Wendell was talking, holding court about the meeting, when Barlowe approached. He sliced a sentence in half and walked away.

Others followed, leaving Tyrone and Barlowe standing alone.

Tyrone stood there a moment, gritting his teeth. He rolled his eyes, looking up and down the street, away from Barlowe.

Finally, when he couldn't hold it any longer, he turned to his uncle. "Whut you do that fo?!"

Barlowe kept quiet, thinking. After a long moment, he said, "Tell you the truth, Ty, I don't know. Somethin bout that meetin didn't feel right to me."

Tyrone looked off into the distance again. "I cain't blieve it. You of all people. Always talkin that black shit."

Normally, Barlowe wouldn't have let that one slide. He would have told his nephew to shut his mouth or he would shut it for him. But this day, after what he'd just done, he sensed something was different somehow, yet he didn't know what it was. So he simply repeated:

"It jus didn't feel right."

Tyrone squinted, still glancing up and down the block. His eyes danced around in his head like his thoughts were racing.

"I'm tellin ya, man. These whities. They need to be dealt with. Know what I'm sayin?"

"Dealt with how, Ty?"

Tyrone looked down at Barlowe's shoes like he wanted to spit on them. "Never mind, man. Never mind." He said a tight-lipped "Later" and started up the street.

Barlowe stood outside the church alone, disconnected from his own emotions. Why had he done that, anyway? He had never done anything like that before.

Well, at least he had made a point. And maybe he had bought some time.

He decided to take a walk. Across the street and catty-corner from where he stood, he saw Miss Carol Lilly. She was bent over in her flower bed. He headed down the sidewalk, wondering: Bought time for what? What had he bought time for?

He wasn't sure. But he knew this: If somebody didn't do something there would be trouble. He could feel it.

He went up Randolph Street, toward the Purple Palace to look for Tyrone. He wanted to talk some more. He approached a group of children playing hopscotch along the walk. He walked right through the game, unaware that they were even there.

Down near the Purple Palace, Tyrone was nowhere in sight. Across the street, Henny Penn and some of his boys huddled in a tight knot at the corner of an apartment building. Some knelt down, rolling dice. Others stood around, drinking wine.

Barlowe considered going inside the Palace. He hadn't been in there in quite a while. He could use a relaxing game of cards, or better still, a stiff drink. He would settle for the easy company of people--anybody not connected to that bizarre meeting he had just come from.

Standing out front, he stared longingly at the doorway.

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