the only big brother
Shawn had ever had.
Shawn knew Buck
better than I did,
knew Buck longer than
we’d known our dad.
I TAKE IT BACK.
I was scared.
What if he had come
to get me,
to take me
with him?
What if he had come
to catch
my breath?
ANAGRAM NO. 1
ALIVE = A VEIL
09:08:05 a.m.
CATCHING MY BREATH, I ASKED,
So why you here?
I wiped
the corners
of my mouth, thought,
Please don’t say
you’ve come to
take me.
Please don’t say
I’m dead.
Please.
Actually,
he said,
doing the bus-stop
lean back again,
I came to check
on my gun.
MY RESPONSE
. . .
Then, finally,
in an almost-whisper, he added,
Your tail is showing.
I PUT MY HAND BEHIND MY BACK,
felt the imprint
of the piece, like
another piece
of me,
an extra vertebra,
some more
backbone.
THOUGHT ABOUT MOVING IT
to the front,
but Shawn used to always say
dogs,
even snarling ones,
tuck their tails between their legs,
a sign of fear.
A signal of
bluff.
I REMEMBER
when I gave
that thing to Shawn,
Buck said,
He was around your age.
Told him he could hold it for me.
Taught him how to use it too.
Taught him The Rules.
Made him promise to put it
somewhere you couldn’t get it.
and I replied
with as much
tough in
my voice as
I could.
But I got it.
AND I’M GLAD I FOUND IT,
because I’m gonna need it,
I explained.
Shawn’s dead now.
No need to tiptoe around it.
Plus, I figured Buck already knew.
Figured dead know dead stuff.
Damn.
(Dumb thing to think.)
Happened last night.
Followed him from the store.
Caught him slippin’,
gave him two to the chest
right outside our building,
I said,
anger sour in the back
of my throat.
But I know it was the
Dark Suns. Riggs and
them. Had to be.
Buck folded his arms.
I see,
he said,
shaking his head,
his mouth fading
into frown.
So what you ’bout to do?
My eyes turned
to razor blades.
I’m about to do what
I gotta do. What you
woulda done.
I squared.
Follow The Rules.
09:08:08 a.m.
THE ELEVATOR RUMBLED
and vibrated
and knocked
around like the middle drawer,
like something off track.
Scared the hell outta me.
What’s taking
this stupid
thing so long?
I asked,
pounding the door
as hard
as my heart was
pounding inside me.
This rickety thing
has always moved slow,
Buck said,
grinning.
Yeah, but this
is ridiculous,
I replied,
palms wetting.
Might as well relax,
Buck said.
It’s a long
way
down.
MAYBE HE DIDN’T HEAR ME
or didn’t take me seriously.
Old people always do that.
Always try to act like what I’m saying ain’t true.
Always try to act like I’m not forreal.
But I was forreal.
So forreal.
RELAX?!
I snapped.
Relax?
I ain’t got time to relax!
I got work to do.
A job to do.
Business to handle,
I said,
feeling myself,
my macho
between
my shaky legs,
masking
my jumpy heart.
BUCK LAUGHED, AND
laughter,
when it’s loud
and heavy
and aimed
at you,
I think
can feel just
as bad as
a bullet’s
bang.
YOU GOT WORK TO DO?
A job to do?
Buck teased,
wiping laugh-tears
from his eyes.
Right, right. You gon’ follow
The Rules, huh?
Yeah, that’s right,
I said,
opening my stance
to let him know this
wasn’t a game,
that I was forreal.
Buck pressed
his finger to my chest
like he was pushing an
elevator button.
The L button.
But you ain’t
got it in you, Will,
he said,
cocky.
Your brother did, but you—
you don’t.
HE ASKED ME
if I had even checked
to see if the gun was
loaded.
I hadn’t.
And now almost shot
myself trying
to figure out
how to.
GIVE IT TO ME
before
you hurt yourself.
Buck clicked something.
The clip slid from the grip
like a metal candy bar.
Fourteen slugs.
One in the hole.
Fifteen total,
he said,
slamming
the clip back in.
How many
should there be?
I asked.
Sixteen.
But, whatever.
09:08:11 a.m.
HE HELD THE GUN OUT.
I grabbed it,
but Buck wouldn’t let go.
I yanked and yanked,
pulled and pulled,
but he
resisted and resisted,
laughed and laughed,
Bucked and bucked.
BUCK FINALLY LET GO
and I stumbled into the corner,
slamming against the wall
like a clown.
You don’t got it in you,
he repeated
over and over again
under his un-breath
while sliding a pack
of cigarettes from
his pocket.
Tossed one in his mouth,
struck a match that sounded
like a finger snap.
Then the elevator came to a stop.
I HAD HALF A SECOND
to
get a grip,
grab the grip,
tuck the gun,
turn around,
ignore Buck,
catch my br
eath,
stand up straight,
act normal
act natural
act like
the only rules
that matter
are the ones
for the elevator.
A GIRL STEPPED IN.
Stood beside me.
Around my age.
Fine as heaven.
Flower dress.
Low heels.
Light makeup,
lip gloss,
cheek stuff.
Perfume,
sweet,
fresh,
cutting
through the cigarette smoke.
SHE CHECKED TO MAKE SURE
L was lit.
And I was
walking my eyes
up her legs,
the ruffle and fold
of her flower
dress, her
arms, her
neck, her
cheek, her
hair.
Then
the bus-stop
lean back
to get a glimpse
But the metal barrel
dug into my back,
making me wince,
making me obvious
and wack.
09:08:12 a.m.
I DIDN’T KNOW
smoking
was allowed
in elevators,
she said,
her small talk smacking
with sarcasm.
But I was too shook
to notice.
You . . . can see that?
I replied
all goofy,
my game no good
around ghosts.
I wondered if she
thought it was me
lighting up
before she
got on
since she couldn’t see
Buck in the corner
puffing out,
making faces like,
Get on
with it.
Uh . . . of course.
It’s everywhere,
she said,
pinching
back a cough.
She fanned smoke
from her face,
thumbed to Buck,
who shook his head and
blew vanishing halos.
She could see him.
She could see him?
She could see him!
Then
she turned to me
and added,
I didn’t know
guns
were allowed
in elevators either.
SHE COULD SEE
Buck?
But how?
I thought he was
only my ghost,
only my grand
imagination.
But
when she
could see him,
could smell his funky
cigarette,
I knew for a fact
this was real.
AT THIS POINT
you probably
already don’t
believe me
or think I’m nuts.
And maybe I am.
But I swear
this is all
true.
Swear.
I JOINED IN,
fanning the smoke,
shaking her comment
about the gun,
looking at Buck
all crazy.
But he ain’t care.
Just leaned back and
took another pull on the cig,
burning but not burning down.
Still long.
Fire.
Smoke.
But no ash.
SHE BRUSHED HER HAND AGAINST MINE
to get my attention,
which on any other
occasion would’ve
been the perfect
open for me to flirt
or at least try to do
my best impression of Shawn,
which was
his best impression of Buck.
BUT THERE WAS A GHOST
IN THE ELEVATOR
so,
no-
go.
PLUS
it’s hard to think about
kissing and killing
at the same time.
SHE ASKED,
What you need
it for anyway?
And when I
looked confused
(pretended to
look confused),
she ticked
tongue to teeth
and clarified,
The gun.
09:08:15 a.m.
THE NEXT EXCHANGE WAS A SIMPLE ONE.
I don’t mean no harm,
but that ain’t something
you just ask someone
you don’t even know,
I said,
still trying to
play cool.
The girl nodded,
replied,
You’re right.
So right.
BUT THEN
she put her hand on my shoulder,
her perfume floating from her wrist
to just under my nostrils, said,
But
I do
know
you,
Will.
I WON’T FRONT.
I was a little excited.
on an elevator with
a ghost on it was a
no-
go,
but we wouldn’t be
on this elevator forever.
And Shawn always said
if a girl says she knows you
but you ain’t never met her
then she’s been
watching you.
Clockin’ you.
Checkin’ you.
Buck probably taught him that.
I hoped it was true.
FROM WHERE?
is what I came with next,
loading up my flirts.
Where you know me from?
The girl smiled.
With her eyes.
From the playground,
she said.
Monkey bars.
VERY FUNNY,
I said,
picking up on
her trying to play me.
I ain’t no monkey.
I never said you were,
she replied.
I’m being serious.
Well, then you got the
wrong guy because I’m too
old to be hanging
at playgrounds.
Yeah, but I knew you
when you weren’t.
SHE OPENED HER PURSE,
dug around,
pulled out a wallet,
unfolded it,
turned it toward
me to flash a photo
like white people
on movies when they
want to show off their kids.
But I wasn’t trying to see no kids.
But there they were.
There we were.
ME AND MY FRIEND DANI
as kids.
Eight
years old.
No-knee’d jeans and
hand-me-down T-shirt
from Shawn.
Flower dress,
shorts underneath
for Dani,
who hung from a monkey bar
tongue hanging from her mouth
like pink candy.
The sun shining in my eyes.
The sunshine in hers.
09:08:18 a.m.
YOU REMEMBER THIS?
the girl asked,
folding
snapping
the wallet shut.
Of course,
I said,
wondering how she
knew Dani.
It was one of the best
and worst days of my life.
You remember, on this day,
she paused,
cocking her
head to the side,
hands on hips,
butterflied arms,
and continued,
I kissed you?
MY EYES GOT BIG.
Dani?
This was Dani. Dani.
Standing in front of me.
The flower dress
the same.
Her face
eight years older than
eight years old
but still
the same.
YEAH, I REMEMBER.
I remember.
I remember that.
I remember this.
And then . . .
I got hung up.
And then . . .
Gunshots,
she said.
Gunshots.
GUNSHOTS
like firecrackers
coming from everywhere.
Dani said her body burned
and all she wanted to do was
jump outside of herself,
swing to somewhere else
like we pretended to do
on monkey bars.
AND NOW I WANNA THROW UP,
Buck baited.
He heh-heh-heh’d,
the cigarette dangling,
bouncing with each word
like a fishing pole
with fish on bait,
with hook through head.
I TOLD DANI
how I remember
Shawn screaming for us to
get down.
How he lay on top of us,
covering us, smashing us
into the dirt.
I told her how I remember
staring at her the whole
time.
Her eyes wide, the brightness
dimming. Her mouth, open.
Bubble gum
and blood.
I SWEAR SOMETIMES
it feels like God
be flashing photos