Burying the Newspaper Man by Curtis Ippolito

Author:Curtis Ippolito [Ippolito, Curtis]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781913331931
Publisher: Red Dog Press/Bloodhound Books

11

SETBACKS

Marcus crumpled the yellow wrapper from the footlong sub he’d just devoured and tossed it across the deli.

The ball cleared the mouth of the trashcan, landing inside with a whack against the back of the container. “Score!” McKenzie yelled with his hands raised above his head.

The cops each waved at the kid working behind the counter on their way out, set to part ways for the final ticks of their shifts. Each had started the day at 5 a.m. and Marcus, for one, was anxious to end his 10-hour shift.

“I’m gonna cruise Sunset Cliffs,” McKenzie said to Marcus, smacking his lips. His tongue glided back and forth along the top row of his straight teeth, searching for any trapped meat and cheese.

“Cool, man,” Marcus said. He flipped his sunglasses down. “Think I’ll hit the beach.”

“Make some fools pour out their forties? McKenzie had a wide smile plastered across his face, sitting in his cruiser with the door open. Not giving Marcus time to respond he added, “Always keepin’ it one hundred. Catch ya later, Smooth Chocolate.”

“You got to stop it with that,” Marcus said. He glared at McKenzie with a straight look and serious eyes as stern as his words.

The goofy smile on McKenzie’s face drooped and he fumbled for a response. He struggled to form words as if a bear trap had just snatched his tongue.

“Uh, I…uh…yeah. Sorry, bro.”

The awkwardness didn’t last long, thanks to an aversion for confrontation Marcus had exhibited his entire life. It was a character flaw he’d identified recently and had a growing distaste for, having reminisced on his childhood all day.

“I’m just messin’ with ya.” Marcus said. He knew his friend didn’t mean anything by it, but the passive racial jabs were getting old nonetheless.

McKenzie barked out a “ha-ha” without laughing, and kept his eyes on Marcus for further cues if he was truly in the clear. Marcus sensed this and reluctantly cracked a smile. In response, McKenzie let out a series of nervous chuckles and started his car.

They waved to each other and then Marcus turned to walk the few blocks to the beach as McKenzie drove off.

Shuffling down the sidewalk, Marcus noticed his legs felt fresh. He had figuratively and literally run all over the city that day, and was surprised he wasn’t feeling any ill-effects. Quite the contrary, he felt invigorated. Lunch had definitely helped—the calories had soaked up the anxiety churning in his stomach from violating numerous department policies, but hadn’t touched the deeper trauma of finding his former abuser’s corpse.

The afternoon sun now beamed intensely in a naked sky. The radiation warmed his arms. He looked up, closed his eyes, and stretched his neck toward it in response, as a basking lizard might. He pulled back his shoulders, pushed his chest out and closed his eyes briefly before continuing down the sidewalk.

It was creeping on 3:30 p.m., and a slight breeze had picked up, licking up the cool moisture from the ocean on its tail. Most evenings in San Diego were that way: it cooled off quicker than you would expect.

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