JIMMY AND THE MACHINE
Like in An Affair to Remember when Jimmy Stewart buys the bad heroin and has to go bring it back, like Bobby D. and Joe P. always say, because if they know they can fuck you once they'll keep on doing that shit. Mix in more cornmeal, or starch or fastactingbaking pOwder. Jimmy spoke to them like he always do, with that slight wispy jiggle in his tone pattern and they laughed and then stopped and realised he was serious, then got all serious themselves and brought out the Knife. This big fucker, with two kids and a wife in the city, that looks like a IT network manager from that IEG company, that was trying to make those girls share that non-steel, non-latex, pretty much undisinfectable spike. He looked like that. And he was big, huge big. Like he bought his shirts at Lane Bryant cause they don't make mensware as big as they do for the ladies. They can be mean like that. But anyway, big he was. And he clunked on in, eyeing Jimbo and making clicking sounds in his mouth, and sort of humming an old Jimmy Durante version of Make someone happy. JS began to sing along, "One face that lights when it nears you..."
"Hey, no." one of the Ayech guys started. "He don't know the words." Jimmy quipped his song and made his eyes all big and started to smile. A quick, skin busting fist to the hairline made him stop. The beast, Knife, pulled a chair up and made himself all cozy, and just shimmied his seat right up to his knees, til they touched. They looked into the each-others eyes, quickly Jimmy started to buckle.
"I, I, I, No." He started, "I can go, boys, I'm fine. Fuck it you know, what? I can make a cake. Yeah--"
"What kind of cake you make?" Knife was right up in his face, nose brushing up on Jimmy's red left cheek.
"You know, some kind, um, you know..."
"What kind?" Knife asked again, really needing to know.
"A good one; peach, apples, maybe some thyme and blackberries. I know where to get them too. Up by the YMCA, the old Navy housing they tearing down, all 'round there, blackberries like the world's gon end."
Knife blinked and started to smile, then stopped.
"How'da ya know they good?"
"They fall off when you barely touch um, they good."
"When you pick um, they go in your hands?"
"You can take a basket, wicker, straw. The berries can tell you what they like. Ask um and they tell you. They want a blanket, paper towel; terry cloth tea cozy. They like to bleed on them." JS quickly regret saying that last bit, feeling his eye get kissed by his open scalp.
"They like to lose their juice?"
"usu."
"Why, 'wonder?"
"They so tired of holding it in, all year, getting big and loose then they die."
"They a funny bunch, berries, aren't they?"
"Funny bunnies."
"Berries..."
"Indeed."
"Love is the answer..."
"Someone to love is the answer."
JS smiled, "You know the words."
"Always knew. No voice for singing, not til I hear you. I know I sing better than you."
"Sho do." Jimmy laughed, and slapped Knife's knee. They both leaned back and huffed out a weird acknowledgement.
"So, you don't like these boys mixin' I hear?"
Jimmy, sniffed and reached into his pocket. Ayech man knocked his hand outta his pants, putting the cold and steely ass-end of a Cobra® flashlight up under his chin, into his wrinkled neck. Knife, reached over, digging into the pocket for him, pulling out a ziplocket baggie with the brownH inside. Ayech, pulled off. Jimmy felt his throat fill with warm fluid and he had to spit. He did, onto the floor at his right. All red, all globby and thick like snot. Knife flinched and flicked at Ayech in the stomach. "Fucker." He said, "Don't you know who this is?"
"Hey, no." one of the Ayech guys started. "He don't know the words." Jimmy quipped his song and made his eyes all big and started to smile. A quick, skin busting fist to the hairline made him stop. The beast, Knife, pulled a chair up and made himself all cozy, and just shimmied his seat right up to his knees, til they touched. They looked into the each-others eyes, quickly Jimmy started to buckle.
"I, I, I, No." He started, "I can go, boys, I'm fine. Fuck it you know, what? I can make a cake. Yeah--"
"What kind of cake you make?" Knife was right up in his face, nose brushing up on Jimmy's red left cheek.
"You know, some kind, um, you know..."
"What kind?" Knife asked again, really needing to know.
"A good one; peach, apples, maybe some thyme and blackberries. I know where to get them too. Up by the YMCA, the old Navy housing they tearing down, all 'round there, blackberries like the world's gon end."
Knife blinked and started to smile, then stopped.
"How'da ya know they good?"
"They fall off when you barely touch um, they good."
"When you pick um, they go in your hands?"
"You can take a basket, wicker, straw. The berries can tell you what they like. Ask um and they tell you. They want a blanket, paper towel; terry cloth tea cozy. They like to bleed on them." JS quickly regret saying that last bit, feeling his eye get kissed by his open scalp.
"They like to lose their juice?"
"usu."
"Why, 'wonder?"
"They so tired of holding it in, all year, getting big and loose then they die."
"They a funny bunch, berries, aren't they?"
"Funny bunnies."
"Berries..."
"Indeed."
"Love is the answer..."
"Someone to love is the answer."
JS smiled, "You know the words."
"Always knew. No voice for singing, not til I hear you. I know I sing better than you."
"Sho do." Jimmy laughed, and slapped Knife's knee. They both leaned back and huffed out a weird acknowledgement.
"So, you don't like these boys mixin' I hear?"
Jimmy, sniffed and reached into his pocket. Ayech man knocked his hand outta his pants, putting the cold and steely ass-end of a Cobra® flashlight up under his chin, into his wrinkled neck. Knife, reached over, digging into the pocket for him, pulling out a ziplocket baggie with the brownH inside. Ayech, pulled off. Jimmy felt his throat fill with warm fluid and he had to spit. He did, onto the floor at his right. All red, all globby and thick like snot. Knife flinched and flicked at Ayech in the stomach. "Fucker." He said, "Don't you know who this is?"