“Gone with the Wind”-Excerpts from; “The Good Negro”
Standing abreast facing one another sandwich along the dark-urinated vandalized staircase stood Victor and a group of young men. Building 1800 the only 7 story bold brick architecture in the 28 building complex that housed a sacred urban labyrinth. The D.S.B. (Dark-side Boys) and the B.M.P. ( Blunt Master Posse) boys would meet up in 1800’s back secret staircase for pow wows, smoke, drink and to discuss the latest trends and gossip. The 30.77 acre development was split into three sections bordered by a main boulevard and an national interstate. Nightfall was always the perfect time for a pow wow away from the constant sirens, highway traffic noise and gunshots. And if one weren’t invited or from section 3 territory affiliated with these adolescents immediate danger would erupt.
Only certain elders would be brave enough to stand at the top of the staircase looking down at the smoked filled labyrinth. Mr. Dickey, was well liked and respected by young men. He would talk shit to the boys for two reasons. One he was a southerner with a heavy drawl still intact and two he had a daughter he constantly had to protect by reminding each and every little wet behind the ear boy he would kill them if he saw them staring at his Nay too long. Mr. Dickey weighed 110 pounds soaked wet but the knife he carried was long and sharp. When “old timers” like Mr. Dickey showed up the boys were in for a treat. Black couldn’t roll the marijuana fast enough to pass around to him. He knew that would get Mr. Dickey going.
The boys would crack jokes on the girls they played on meanwhile many would listen to make sure their girl’s name wasn’t mentioned. Oh yeah, there was alot of infidelity and infiltration happening at these tender ages. Poppy was the youngest out the mob. Many older boys respected Poppy because he was quick to fight, rap, and try any hardcore drug and withstand the toll it took on his nervous system. Poppy would constantly blurt out disrespectful remarks with no care whom took offense. It was a game to him and a way to test other boys courage. Victor was a silent drinker which he would be very observant awaiting for the malt liquor 40 ounce bottle to swing around to his hands. Victor would take quick deep gulps and pass the bottle.
Victor was intrigued and listened to each boy’s comments and when Mr. Dickey took center stage he was full of glee. Victor was only 16 years old and stole Mr. Dickey daughter’s heart right from under his eye. There was never a conversation in the labyrinth about Nay as far as Mr. Dickey or Victor was present, even though the mob didn’t know of Victor and Nay’s affairs. Topics and jokes from poverty, crime,rap, sports, and slavery were always choice of discussion. The main ingredient of genocidal give-and-take criticism were jokes about one’s family’s dynamic and structure. Even though every male in the cipher parents were poor, some with good jobs working hard; majority were struggling to make ends meet. And still certain boys took the better-than-you road.
Mr. Dickey would make comments referencing that Victor was a replica image of himself; cool , calm, and collective like a fine southern man is created to be. Zay and Black didn’t like that remark and Zay immediately started mimicking the sound of a fiddle and finished his joke with a loud “Hee Haw!”, full of laughter. He cracked himself up so hard he couldn’t even get the words clearly out of his mouth. Everyone laughed, as Zay said, “Victor since you act like them country bunk-ins, why don’t you move down there with them!” The echoes laughter shot through the entire labyrinth as a test of sound. The laughter kept getting louder and louder and darkness started settling and Victor’s mental control diminished by the affects from the malt liquor.
Following a speeding fish tailing jeep with both hands on the wheel on a winding dirt road Victor pulled his mind away from the past. Looking in the rear view looking at the clouds of dirt burst into air blocking everything in rear sight Victor shifted his sports car into six gear reaching onto the newly paved Windy Road. The jeep up ahead pulled into a lot. Shirley Mae and Caroline exited the vehicle where stood side by side 2 beautiful mid-country manors. An old lady waved from a door way and shouted, “Welcome Home Shirley Mae!” Victor pulled onto the grass lot with his brand new sports car and quickly followed the women into the manor. Inside was a complete decorated shrine of “The Old South”. Shirley Mae’s momma Sara Jo was a hoot. She gave Carolina and Victor a tour of her daughter’s home which Victor actually thought Sara Jo resided there.
Walking through the 10,000 square foot home designed with antiqued marble with contrasting accents, and quarter-sawn white oak flooring throughout. Sara Jo would turn back to Carolina and Victor saying, “Oh I don’t eat off anything made of plastic!” As she stopped at an antique china cabinet full of porcelain dinner sets. Sara Jo pointed to her Herend Rothschild Bird Green Fish Scale set closing both arms and her hands together warmly signifying this was one of her most valued sets. Moving right along to the kitchen and serving pantry stood 6 servers in black and white maiden and tuxedo uniforms. Victor starred at the serving individuals as if this actual moment was of a movie scene. The servers repeatedly like a broken record asked Victor, “May I help you, May I help you?”
Victor would walk down the serving aisle speaking with his eyes and the message was from one negro to another, “Cut this shit out!” The servers looked at Victor with no fear nor remorse and continued to serve along still asking may they help him. Victor sat down in his Gucci and Burberry duds and his plate followed behind him with a tall glass of sweet tea. Sitting at the table Victor had a ball of mixed thoughts and emotions. He searched his mental capacity on what could be the fine line between Him, Caroline ( She was a negro as well), and the servers. Victor asked himself was this what the “good”life was all about? Was it about sitting in a modern southern manor with wealthy counterparts and negro servers who look identical to him? Yet they were not sitting at the table so they could never be him in the flesh to feel how “good”it felt in the seat of fortunate. Victor could hear the boys’ voices from the labyrinth in his head progressing the longer he sat at the table. He heard Zay say, “This negro thinks he’s too good. I told you he needed to move down south with them”. Poppy said , “Yeah, you was always a sell-out anyway, that’s why now I got Nay!… stupid negro!
Victor realized it was getting late, and decided to make his way home. Shirley Mae and Caroline gave Victor a hug with promising confirmations to meet him in the morning at their shared work office space. Victor slipped into his 2 seater and accelerated on to the gravel dirt road and spun out as a cloud of smoke followed him throughout the night sky Looking in the rear view mirror Victor saw Mr. Dickey’s face and he said, “Are you that good? How good are you? Show them all you’re good and good as it gets!” Victor’s disappeared into the midnight’s wind and never looked back.
