Bantu
If I were suddenly rich ..
Would the sun shine ev’ry day
If I were suddenly poor ..
Would you send me on my way
If I were suddenly happy ..
Would the stars come out at night
If I were suddenly sad ..
Would you love me with all your might
My mother woke up suddenly rich one morning. After twelve hours of labor, she said she felt like a million dollars as the nurse transferred me to her arms, my tiny body squirming against her traitorous breasts.
She would whisper those poetic words to me every night when I went to bed before kissing me on my forehead and wishing me sweet dreams. I’d watch her lipstick’d lips as she softly spoke. I’d study her color’d eyes, as if I might find answers there, hiding behind the mascara and eye shadow. She would blow me another kiss from the door and switch out the light, leaving me in darkness, my hands choking the bedsheets on either side of my sweating body as I heard her fake laughter from the room down the hall.
The first time I hurt someone, I was ten and she was twelve. I socked her in the stomach, and she fell to the ground. The sun was blasting at the fair that year. I was a hothead, and I fancied myself a bandolero. I had no six-shooter, but I had my fists. I watched her cry as I took her stuff’d elephant, which she had just won at the Ring Toss. Beginner’s lucky throw, I guess. Later at home in my bedroom, I read the tag attached to the elephant’s body:
Hi, My name is BANTU. 100% Polyester.
My mother woke up suddenly poor one morning. The man she was with took her two rings and her silver chain and emptied her bank account. He left her with a blacken’d eye, and I watched her throw up in the kitchen sink.
I was fourteen when I beat the living shit out of a bum down on Fairfax Ave. The other bums gripped their bottles like nursery babies, not daring to speak up, or they’d be next. I spat on the dirty vagrant at my feet, laughing as he scratched the pigeon-shit sidewalk with his long, disgusting fingernails. Dig your own grave, I thought as a cop car rolled by. I heard Don’t Worry, Baby coming from their radio. One more kick oughta do it.
I went home and I laid a bunch of grimy coins on the kitchen counter for my mother. I had searched the bum’s raggedy pockets and hit the mother lode. After I watched some TV, I went to my room and pummeled Bantu until I got bored. Some threads came loose, and he lost one of his cheap Chinese eyes.
My mother woke up suddenly happy one morning. She had found a supplier, and now her dreams sparkled with artificial intensity.
When I kidnapped the girl, I did it as a gag—a distraction to alleviate the tediousness of my lethargic days. She was still in high school; I had dropped out the month before. I kept telling her I’d let her go eventually; I simply wanted someone to talk to for a while. But she wouldn’t stop crying, so I had to whack her around some. She didn’t like the latch’d chain either, but there was no way around it. I forced her to drink whiskey from a bottle I had lifted from the corner store on Reyburn. Our drunken courtship was not as comforting to my soul as I would’ve hoped, since I knew she was only being compliant to gain her release. I gave her Bantu the elephant at night—she used it as a pillow to keep her head from touching the cold cement. After nearly a week, I dropped her off at the Texaco on Route 5 in Pekoe. I untied her hands, and she sprang from the car like a rabbit being chased by a kid with a cap gun. I watched her running and running and running until I couldn’t see her anymore. Go ahead, run, you scared little rabbit.
I kicked Bantu across the floor of my room. It picked up dust and debris like a new mop. It landed in a shadow’d corner, its one eye staring at me—a mocking indictment. Around 2 a.m., I picked it up and brought it to bed. It still had the smell of her sweat.
My mother woke up suddenly sad one morning. I gave her a slap to get her out of her funk. She tried to hit back, but she was so slow, with her spindly, needle-track’d arms and all. Fuck her, I needed to get to work.
My supervisor lit into me because I was all of seven minutes late. I imagined my hands around her wrinkly throat, squeezing it until I felt no pulse. But I simply smiled and leisurely walked to my station. At lunch, I went to the parking lot and slashed two of her tires. Her Achilles tendon will be next if this shit continues, I thought. After shift, I went home, knowing full well I wouldn’t be returning. I stopped and got a couple of the steak and pepper sandwiches my mother likes, hoping to put her in a better mood.
The kitchen was a mess. I stood there for a good half hour; the sandwiches got cold. I called the police, then I took all her junk and crammed it into the battered elephant and buried it out back. When the cops came, I didn’t care. I sat there sideways, looking at my mother and at the blood congealing on the freshly sharpened knife on the floor.
I was suddenly rich with love ..
But that was just a dream
I was constantly poor I knew ..
As I had always been
I was suddenly happy for you ..
My world a shining son
I was suddenly sad today ..
A fractured life undone
