"Oh you think you bad, huh?", and: "Before I Let Go", and: Two Links in a June Chain
2023; University of Missouri; Volume: 46; Issue: 2 Linguagem: Inglês
10.1353/mis.2023.a901087
ISSN1548-9930
Autores Tópico(s)American Jewish Fiction Analysis
Resumo"Oh you think you bad, huh?", and: "Before I Let Go", and: Two Links in a June Chain Aaron Coleman (bio) "Oh you think you bad, huh?" For my brotha, D This crazy white boy Sam ran up on my giant goofy friendand slammed his huge baseballer forearm against his temple,against the side of my brotha's head as we stood together,backs against our lockers. Caught us both by surpriseon some random morning in our early teenage years. My brothaslid to the ground as the white boy stood right there, smiling—so the moment swelled with silenceas too many fifteen-year-olds to count somehow all of a suddenbecame quiet and watched as something primaland American between black and white boys spilled outof raucous what-if daydreams and confronted all of us with oh shitand what now and none of us stopped to think why or what for? Even nowI remember the coarse iron feeling in my shoulder blades and a stonecontortion on my face, but I was still just standing there,unmoving—was it even one breath later?—when my brotha slowly stood upand said too calmly, "Oh you think you bad, huh?"then snatched the crazy white boy by the collar and wailed on his facewith his meaty fist again and again as Sam's strong arms flailedwildly trying to land somewhere as D backed him up then down the hallwhile a sea of wide-eyed almost children flowed around the two of them.I struggled to keep up. The crazy white boy's nose opened: blood was everywherein his mouth on his clothes and spattered over D's sky blue polothat was now ripped and all I could make myself do was watchas they poured down the hallway. I don't remember the teachers or in-school policeofficer breaking them up, I just remember D's solemn face through the window [End Page 103] glass as he sat in the main office afterward, but I think I had his glassesand I don't know where the crazy white boy wentbut this other small and sort of friendly white kid came up to mewith enchantment on his face and adrenaline in his voiceand halfway whispered, "You're the king of the school nowsince D beat up Sam and everybody knows you could fuck up D,"and I don't remember what I said to himbut I do remember my confusion. The feeling of being watchedin yet another way now and how D probably would have whupped my assor anybody else's as he rampaged in a straight line down that hallwayand how crazy-ass white boy Sam seemed so unpredictably dangerous—where was henow?—I didn't feel like the king of anything, I felt forced into beingsome new level of big black imposter. And sure, I was a monsteron the football field or in the paint on the basketball court orwith a smooth round metal shot put in my hand, but what kind of king did thissmall naive white boy speak of? What was he so excited to see me lord over? Whatwas he wishing onto me, or into me? What kind of violence did he want more of?I don't remember what happened next. I do remember, some months later,D's stepdad trying to put his hands on D, and the stepdad got knocked out, too.A year or two later my brotha D got sent awayto some kind of "troubled youth" boot camp and suddenlythere were no more parental car rides together to the movies or mall,not to see or buy anything but just to walk around or sit down somewhere differentin our young bodies together, laughing and talking shit, mostlyminding our own business, but on the lookout, daringanybody to start anything with us. [End Page 104] "Before I Let Go" After Maze, featuring Frankie Beverly (and Beyoncé's remix!) When something inside the ear opens in welcome the body moves out...
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