Everyman by Unknown

Author:Unknown
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2021-05-24T18:32:28+00:00

Nine

revolutionary remains

the Revolution ain’t dead

its tired,

and jest resting.

—Carolyn M. Rodgers, “The Revolution Is Resting”

Chicago burned the 1960s down while civil rights leaders, social justice advocates, and agitators absconded in its rapture. The remnants were scattered attempts among survivors of political parties—not so much ushering in the seventies as clinging to the shipwrecked remains of the revolution.

The remains of the revolution lay next to Eve in bed. Ash was tall, dark, and not very handsome. He would’ve been at the Monroe headquarters when Fred Hampton was assassinated by the “pigs” if only he had completed the six-week political education classes. He was habitually absent, but good-natured. To Ash, there was the revolution but there was also the world. He could not reconcile his racial obligations and worldly aspirations. “Must we all be revolutionaries? Can’t some of us be explorers?”

The party kept him around because of his idealism—a symbol that although the answer to his query was no, they believed in a future where it could be yes. Eve kept him around because his inspiration was contagious. He was always off somewhere. The spiritual mounts of Machu Picchu. The Egyptian pyramids. Table Mountain. If not in person, then in mind.

He was a nomad driving a Chicago cab and sleeping in his parents’ basement until he had enough money for his latest adventure. She enjoyed the freedom of not being pressured into marriage and making babies for the revolution. Ash looked at Eve like she was one of the few souvenirs brought back from an excursion. Not so much as a prize, but a memory that he enjoyed revisiting. Eve looked at Ash as she did when rereading a favorite novel: with familiarity and appreciation.

Currently he was unwittingly inspiring her to travel to Macon County, Georgia, without so much as a word goodbye. She would take a page from his book. Eve’s naked body was wrapped snugly in the floral sheets from his parent’s linen closet, leaving his own nudity on full display to her. Eve’s thoughts meandered to when she met him after returning to Chicago from Tuskegee. Womanly curves teach girls to keep walking through the barrage of daily catcalls and calloused hands that reach for them from neighborhood corners. Yet Ash had a way of looking at Eve that made her linger. His look held more interest than lust. He had a quiet manner about him, and when he said his name, she found herself leaning closer to catch it.

“Nobody names their kid Ash.” Eve smirked.

“Oh, you wanna know my gubment name?” he responded. “It’s Ashford.”

“Like Ashford and Simpson? You’re joking!” Eve clapped her hands over her mouth and tried unsuccessfully to stifle the laughter.

“Go ahead. You aren’t the first. Although I gotta say that I had the name before anyone knew who Nick Ashford was. I mean, yeah, he’s older, but think about it. When I was born, nobody knew him.”

“Alright. You’re right.”

“And everybody can’t have such a beautiful name like Eve.”

Eve’s smile quickly faded. Ash’s abbreviated nomenclature mirrored her own name journey.

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