The first night sounds like a scene out
of Schindler’s List. Lots of moaning and weeping. Every half hour
you hear someone throw themselves against their door. Yeah. They lock
us down at night. Mr. W. Scott didn't tell us this until after dinner
which caused an uproar until he looked up from his clipboard. Mouths
shut faster than a first day inmates ass.
Where do I get this stuff from?
Sad Sack cant sleep so he is just lying
on his bed punching his palm. He's been doing it for hours. I cant
sleep with what sounds like hard, rhythmic masturbation. I stretch on
my bed and yawn which is the universal signal for wanting to sleep
and I hear bed springs. Sad Sack jumps from his bed and gets in my
face.
“Told you we'd fall in love” I tell
him. He just breathes in my face. He smells like cocoa butter. That's
not racist. He uses the stuff.
“Can you shut the fuck up while I'm
trying to sleep?!” he hisses in my face. I am so tempted to kiss
him on the tip of his nose. Instead I just poke him on it.
“Boop.” He growls and lays back down.
“I need to break some shit.”
“Boop.” He growls and lays back down.
“I need to break some shit.”
“Or...you could sleep” I suggest.
“I cant sleep like this” he says.
“Shit brings back bad memories.”
“Jail?”
“Fuck you.”
“Just asking.”
“Just because I'm Black its gotta be
jail, huh?” he says.
“Well...if it walks like a duck and
quacks like a duck its probably trying to sell you insurance” I
tell him.
“It feels like when I was a kid and
having to hole up in my room when my daddy was drunk” he says.
“I think we're having a
breakthrough.”
“And now you've ruined it” Sad Sack
tells me before pulling a pillow over his face. “Goodnight.”
“Goodnight, sweet prince” I whisper
to him.
“You are one strange motherfucker”
he says. I smile to myself comfortable in my oddness and eventually
fall asleep to what sounds like fucking down the hall.
I wake up at 6 and Sad Sack is on the
floor doing pushups. He doesn't acknowledge me so I head to the
bathroom and wash my face. I would brush my teeth but I'm not trying
to impress anyone. I dry my face and notice that my hands are
shaking. Oh, fun. The shakes. I've heard about this but I stay pretty
pickled so I've never actually experienced them. If it were anyone
but me this would be funny.
Fuck it. Still funny.
“Look what I can do!” I shout to
Sad Sack who isn't where I left him. He's standing with his arms
folded and Mr. W. Scott in front of him looking at his clipboard. He
looks up for a moment and sees my hands and checks something off.
“Let's see how funny this situation
is once the delirium tremens sets in” he says.
“I failed Latin” I tell him.
“You failed life” he says before
floating away.
“He should be a comedian!” I tell
Sad Sack who is still standing there. “What's wrong? You have a
dream they gave you a new roommate and we couldn't have our
passionate discussions anymore?”
“No, fool” he says. “They say my
check bounced and I need to get out of here by noon.”
“Its 'cause you're Black, isn't it?”
I ask. “Fight the power!” I shout before running down the hall. I
get to Boobs' doorway and she lifts her top damn near causing me to
fall. Its perfect because when she lifts it her shirt covers her
face. I walk closer to her and ask “So what are you in for?”
“Guess” she says through her shirt.
“Rabies?” She laughs.
“You're funny” she says. Her voice
is hot. “What are you in for?” she asks, still talking through
her shirt.
“I'm addicted to love.”
“That's a great song.”
“Its a song?!”
She laughs again and begins to lower
her shirt which means this conversation has ended. I walk back to my
room and Sad Sack is sitting on his bed crying again. I sit down next
to him and he sighs and looks at me.
“Slavery, huh?” I say while shaking
my head. “I mean, its not as if there weren't enough people to
build this country. Why bring all your people across the sea to build
houses and tend farms? Why couldn't the Indians do it? Huh?! Fight
the po--” I begin to say.
“Please stop talking” he says.
“Only because you said please.” I
sit on my bed and watch my hands shake. “If I played Operation
right now I'd get slaughtered.” Sad Sack ignores me. “I can pay
for your treatment here.”
“What?”
“Hmm” I ponder. “Let me see if I
can say it in a way you understand. Ahem! Yo, my bruhvun man! I gots
them mad duckets and cheeses.”
“You have lots of money?”
“Yes!” I say and give him the Black
Power salute. “Its like we're brothers...brother.”
“Where you get money from?” he
asks.
“My papa” I tell him. “He hates
me but he hates me more when I am drunk. I do things that The Man
doesn't agree with.”
“Like what?”
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