Urban Tales by Charles Harvey

Author:Charles Harvey
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: african american fiction urban, African american stories, African American Romance, Urban Fiction, Urban contemporary fiction
Publisher: Wes Writers and Publishers
Published: 2018-01-23T00:00:00+00:00

The Fate of the Nutcracking Midget and Mud Turtle Mississippi

(From Christmas in Linken Park Chicago)

“Well first of all it’s Christmas day and no Butcher wants you coming around banging on his door. Ain’t that right, Dog2020?”

“You sho, right, Madd. Pass some of that grease and cornbread dressing.”

“Then the next thing is where in hell is the butcher going to find a huge ass turkey?”

“Unless he went to Turkey?”

“What you talking about, Dog2020?”

“Well ain’t Turkey where they got a lot of turkeys?”

“Fool, Turkey ain’t got no turkeys. It’s the people that call themselves Turkey. It’s a country.”

“Madd, now you sounding like a fool. Why would anybody call themself a turkey, or live in a place called Turkey, without any turkeys? I know a lot of country people and ain’t none of them that dumb. I think you done had too much of Ebenezer’s free liquor.”

“Dog2020, shut your ass up and let me finish. Can you do that? Anyway, the Butcher tried to explain that he was closed and besides the only meat he had was an oxtail the size of a possum’s nose and about the same color. Well the midget showed the Butcher the box of money. Suddenly, all kinds of possibilities were opened up.”

“You sho right, Madd. I met Halle Berry one night over at the Drop Out Bar.”

“You telling a lie before your tongue can get to moving.”

“I swear on a stack of Bibles and Jehovah Witness literature. I met Halle Berry at the Drop Out Bar, right there on Obama Avenue.”

“And just what happened?”

“I offered to buy her a drink. She turned me down at first. Then I showed her my shoebox of money and it opened all of them possibilities. In fact, we made it over to the Dew Drop Inn and she showed me just what possibility was possible. Yep, I know all about possibilities opening up.”

“It’s Christmas. I know if the Lord wasn’t busy celebrating, he’d reach down and slap you upside the head for that lie. Anyway, that Butcher sized up money and he sized up the midget. He sized up the money and he sized up the midget. He sized...”

“How many times you going to say that, Madd. Your mouth sounds like a broken record.”

“I’m trying to lend atmosphere to the story.”

“I hope there ain’t no farting in the story. We don’t need that kind of atmosphere.“

“I heard after they buried your Mama, they still hear her farting from the grave.”

“Don’t talk about my dead Mama. Don’t talk about my Mama, like that.”

“Put that pocketknife down, before I pick your teeth with it. Besides your Mama ain’t even dead yet.”

“Oh that’s right. Sorry about that, Madd.”

“But if she was dead she wouldn’t stop farting.”

“Watch out now!”

“That Butcher sized up everything and determined that the midget was about the size of a nice size turkey. He wouldn’t need to pluck any feathers off the thing. Plus he could pass that big head off as a hog’s head.”

“That hoghead cheese give me gas.”

“Everything give you gas.

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