Monday, March 20, 2006

The Thursday Thief. Part 2


(Roberto Matta, "Violent indefinissable" - 1950)

I wake-up a punching-bag. My wrists are tied as I’m strung up shirtless in the corner of some rundown boxing club. There’s a make-shift ring and a few human punching-bags swaying like raw meat in the shadows. Others who had somehow crossed Pinball Johnny in Red Creek City. His town.

Godswill’s warming up beside me. He’s not wearing gloves.

“Can I bum a smoke before you start,” I ask him.

“Sure, kid.”

He walks over to his stuff and reaches into his coat pocket. He comes back and sticks a red camel between my lips.

“Anything stronger?” I mumble.

“Hehehe,” Godswill’s got a deep, infectious laugh. “I know what you want.”

He plucks a fat juicy joint from his camel pack and lites it up.

“Special made,” he says.

The more I listen to Godswill speak the more I can detect his African accent. It sounds dignified and honest. I’ve always made a habit of never trusting anyone without an accent. Native speakers sound too damn slick for their own good. Godswill holds true to my preconception by taking two quick tokes and leaving the rest for me. The man’s a gentleman.

“Try not to scream like a bitch,” he says, and then he starts hitting.

“Gaah, brrr, ratata fucky tity fuck, brrrrrah,” I cringe and mumble.

I’ve been in situations like this before. Won too much money and payed for it. At least this is dignified and honest hitting. Nothing below the belt, easy on the face. Old school. Or maybe he’s just pacing himself. Godswill’s as nimble on his feet as he was on that typewriter. Quick, hard, and everything in rhythm. Move, stutter step, then BAM! jab jab jabs that feel like bullet trains. I bring the magic cloud deep into my lungs and pass it through every cell of my beaten body. I toke until I’m covered in smoke and bruises. I toke until pain becomes my ritual sacrifice. I toke until I realize this isn’t your average university campus weed. This is African shit. I giggle as consciousness is slipping away. And through my dreams I think I scream.

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