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The Big C7.19.97
I wonder what C is thinking out there standing hunkered over my
little car parked in front the house? He is postured in such a way--with
his elephant sized forearms resting on the roof, his head tilted and
drooping like a buddah on the nod--that I find myself imagining him to be
knocking at epiphany's window. Of course, he could also be urinating in
my gas tank.
To that extent you resist the local way, you give up a good bit of what
is in the offering.
At 370 pounds of raw black fat, a nose wider than it is long, and 26-year-
old eyes wanting to pop out his skull, C does not at first glance
inspire the nurturing instinct. Nonetheless, I have resisted efforts
(mostly P and M 's) to have his presence on this block banned.
Good Lord, can you really do that? Ban someone or something because they
are displeasing to you? I guess the answer is yes because they a lot of
punk ass motherfuckers don't hang here no more. C pushes crack on
the street and no question that is a bad thing, but he does what he does
well and I have to respect that in place with so many shiftless
pretenders roaming 'round. I believe the real reason C stays around
here is the same reason there are so many children around here: because
Mama D ain't dead or in jail. A person has to belong somewhere and this
as close as C gonna get. He pays his dues with respect and a few
dollars to Mama D's pocket. And that buys him a few hours inside Mama
D's during the heat of the day and the cold of the night. Aside from the
manner in which he makes his living, Corey behaves better than most
people on this street.
One night there was a knock at the door and when I went to see who it
was, nobody was there. And then I saw movement down below and to my right.
"Hey C ," I said, and he answered, "Sign fell down," and handed up to me the big metal Neighborhood Watch sign that was poorly nailed to the telephone pole in front of our house.
"Thank you C."
"All right Mr. Jim," he nods, bashful as a little boy.
When Phillis says she finds C "disgusting," she is implying that to
refer to his lifestyle but I suspect it is his physical appearance that
most bothers her because she seems none too disgusted by any of the good
looking dealers I have seen her flirting with.
And one night on the front porch, Shelton, in the midst of an anxiety
attack, confided to M that he had not the highest hopes for his
future. He said--"I'll probably end up just like C." And whereas
M thinks that is a bad thing, I do not.