Dirty South

I FOUND ALIAS alone at his mansion. The door was open, the rooms cavernous without any furniture. I followed the lights and ended up out on his back patio, where he lay reclined in a lounger staring up at the night sky. He had a forty by his side and his tan lug-soled boots crossed at the ankles. He looked over at me and then looked back up at the stars.

“What’s up?”

Annie trotted over to him and started licking his mouth.

“Damn, dog,” he said, kind of laughing like he was twelve.

I looked away. “I talked to Teddy,” I said.

“He say anything about givin’ me my damned dogs back?”

“He told me about you taking his credit cards last year.”

He didn’t turn, pushing Annie away with the back of his hand.

“No one likes to be lied to,” I said.

“What you talking about?” he said. “I never said shit about that.”

“So you admit taking his cards,” I said.

“We was just funnin’.”

“That’s called theft.”

“Man, get that pole out your ass,” he said. “Teddy spends more money on toilet paper.”

“Stand up,” I said.

He mumbled something.

“Stand up,” I repeated. The sound of my voice made Annie’s ears wilt. She walked away.

ALIAS slid his feet to the ground, stood in his sloppy Saints jersey, and groggily looked up at me. The black sky and stars seemed like a dome above our heads. The moon huge and split in half like a paper prop on a small stage.

“I know about Dahlia,” I said. “Don’t much blame you; she has plenty of heat.”

“That bitch? Man, you trippin’. What’s wrong with you, Nick?”

“You told Teddy I wanted to keep half the money I find.”

“Bullshit.”

“I’ve known Teddy for twelve years,” I said. “I’ve known you two weeks.”

I looked away from him at the hard concrete surrounding his pool. Stray boxes and packing tape littered on the ground. I could feel the summer beginning to move in, ready to harden, before that final heat of August when it leaves us.

The sudden thought made me think of family trips to the beach and the way everything faded.

“Go, then,” he said. “Ain’t got time for you.”

“I let you in,” I said. “JoJo and Loretta took you in like they did for me.”

“Go!” he yelled. “Get out of here.”

“You’ve lost it.”

“What?”

“My trust.”

“Fuck you, man. Fuck you and your trust and your goddamn ways.”

I turned with Annie, feeling her wet snout against my hand as I walked back through the empty white rooms.

In my rearview, I saw him watch me as I drove away, the red glow of my taillights cast over his face.

57

GHOSTS WAKE YOU SOMETIMES. You seen your mamma at the end of your bed once, smokin’ a cigarette and cryin’. Tears made out of blood. You seen your kid friend, Touchee, lyin’ on his bloody stomach like when y’all was at the block party and he walked through glass. You close your eyes tight and don’t like to cut off the light in your closet. Even when it’s empty like tonight. All your clothes, CDs, DVDs, and stereos taken over to Teddy’s place. Man tellin’ you he got to cut back till that next record out. You lay awake tonight in your old kingdom, watching that bare bulb in your closet. Nothin’ but miles of empty shoeboxes.

You cross your arm over your eyes, hear the wind cut off the lake. Tomorrow you got to be out. Tomorrow you got to come up with more rhymes. Aggression. Repression. Depression.

Yeah, you know all those words. They seem to come right out of the air into your head. Almost seem like you got someone whisperin’ things you don’t know into your ear. You tell Teddy about that one time, right when he got you out of Calliope, and he say it ain’t nothin’ but inspiration.

You wonder where that been lately.

Eyes shut tight, you sleep. Seem like hours before you feel the hot breath in your ear and feel cold fingers wrap your face.

“Open your mouth, my l’il nigga, and you get cut,” man says.