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    The Man in My Basement

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      traction in nature is also the passion of man. I thought 5

      then that I was like a weightless astronaut, locked in a 6

      protective shell and floating in emptiness.

      7

      “Me neither,” Anniston Bennet said, addressing my si-8

      lence. “I’ve always done what I wanted to do or what I be-9

      lieved I needed. But I’ve never been brought to an action 10

      because of my heart.”

      11

      It was almost ludicrous, listening to the reclamations ex-12

      pert’ s talk about the heart, but I was moved anyway. The 13

      contradiction of emotions rattled around in my head.

      14

      “What’s that got to do with you sitting down here 15

      locked up in a cage?”

      16

      “That’s why I asked if you had ever been in love, 17

      Charles. Because love isn’t a short skirt and shapely legs.

      18

      It’s not a clap of thunder or a chance meeting with a pros-19

      titute in a library in Paris.”

      20

      “How would you know what it isn’t if you’ve never been 21

      there yourself ?” I felt dizzy and precarious on my trunk.

      22

      “I’ve never felt love, but I’ve studied it,” he said. “In my 23

      line of work you pay attention to every human emotion 24

      the way doctors examine their patients. The desperation 25

      borne from hunger, for instance, is a powerful force that 26

      will turn the victim in on himself. It’s the desire to devour 27 S

      the source of the pain. The pang of nationalism can make 28 R

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      The Man in My Basement

      a man as blind and dense as a stone. He will cut off his 1

      own arm, kill his children, for a flag and a ten-cent song.”

      2

      “But what about love?” I really wanted to know.

      3

      “Love, as the poet says, is like the spring. It grows on 4

      you and seduces you slowly and gently, but it holds tight 5

      like the roots of a tree. You don’t know until you’re ready 6

      to go that you can’t move, that you would have to muti-7

      late yourself in order to be free. That’s the feeling. It 8

      doesn’t last, at least it doesn’t have to. But it holds on like 9

      a steel claw in your chest. Even if the tree dies, the roots 10

      cling to you. I’ve seen men and women give up every-11

      thing for love that once was.”

      12

      “And so you love somebody?” I asked. “That’s what 13

      brought you here?”

      14

      “No,” he said. “I don’t have that affliction. I’m here 15

      alone and there’s no one waiting or gone.”

      16

      “So then why are you talking about love then?”

      17

      “Because that’s the closest thing to what forced me into 18

      this cage. Everything else is immediate and measurable, 19

      pretty much. Fear, desperation, greed. I’m fifty-six years 20

      old, Charles. My first job was as an accountant in Saigon 21

      at the age of twenty-one. From there, on a forged Swiss 22

      passport, I got a job doing the same work for higher pay 23

      in Hanoi. My employers worried after accepting me that 24

      I was a spy. In order to test my loyalty, they brought me 25

      to a holding cell where there was an American sergeant 26

      held captive. They told me to kill him. They said that he S 27

      R 28

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      Walter Mosley

      1

      had been sentenced to death anyway and that this was my 2

      first duty. And I shot him. I didn’t hesitate or flinch. I 3

      didn’t enjoy it or feel remorse. I just shot him.”

      4

      “Killed him?”

      5

      “Scared the shit out of the officer who brought me 6

      down there. He expected me to balk. But I took the pis-7

      tol and shot the man in the head. I saw the lay of the 8

      board immediately. The man had been tortured. He was 9

      skinny and bloody and miserable. They would have killed 10

      him anyway.”

      11

      “Was it a black man?” I asked, wondering at the words 12

      even as I spoke them.

      13

      “I don’t know” was his reply.

      14

      “How can you not know?”

      15

      “It was a dark cell and he was filthy. His skin wasn’t 16

      black, but whether it was tanned or negroid I don’t know.

      17

      I didn’t spend any time wondering about him. I took the 18

      pistol and shot. Then I left. The next seven years I worked 19

      back and forth across the borders of Communism and the 20

      West. That’s where I made my nest egg. I had two million 21

      dollars by the time I came back home. On top of that I 22

      had connections with millionaires, intelligence agencies, 23

      and political leaders. I even had a code name. They called 24

      me Sergeant Bilko because of my bald head and the fact 25

      that I could procure almost anything.”

      26

      “Are they after you?”

      27 S

      “Who?”

      28 R

      “The Americans. I mean, you were a traitor.”

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      “They don’t care about that. They dealt with me too. I 1

      got three prisoners out from captivity for a fee. Asian com-2

      munists are far more practical than the European variety.”

      3

      “You still haven’t explained why you want to be here.”

      4

      “I don’t want to be here, Charles. I have to be.”

      5

      “Because you shot that man?”

      6

      “No. I mean, that’s part of it. A small part. I’ve done a 7

      lot of things. Too many things. Sometimes it was that I 8

      did nothing. And now it’s too late. Like with love, it’s 9

      grown up all around me and I can’t get away.”

      10

      Again there was a break in Bennet’s armor. He became 11

      distant and misty. Not near tears but vulnerable.

      12

      “And you think being down here will help make up for 13

      it,” I said.

      14

      “No.”

      15

      Through the diamonds of his cell Bennet took on the 16

      quality of a martyr. He was like one of those death-row in-17

      mates that they interview just before the sentence is exe-18

      cuted. You see all the evil that they caused, but you still feel 19

      like death is not the answer — that killing this man would 20

      in some strange way take away his victims’ last hope.

      21

      But Bennet wasn’t going to die. He was on vacation. He 22

      was in the Hamptons for the summer. He was a thief and 23

      a murderer taking time off from his trade. This made me 24

      angry. I began to resent the arrogance of Bennet. How 25

      dare he think that by pretending to punish himself that 26

      he would somehow have answer
    ed for his crimes.

      S 27

      “Why here, Mr. Bennet? Why my house?”

      R 28

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      Walter Mosley

      1

      “There’s lots of reclamations in Africa, Charles. Dia-2

      monds and oil, slave labor to cobble tennis shoes and as-3

      semble fancy lamps. They have armies over there who will 4

      strip down to the waist and go hand to hand with bayo-5

      nets and clubs. They have tribal factions and colonizers.

      6

      The streets, in short, are paved with gold.”

      7

      “My house isn’t in Africa.”

      8

      “But you are a black man. You come from over there. I 9

      need a black face to look in on me. No white man has the 10

      right.”

      11

      “Suppose I was crazy? Suppose I hated white people 12

      and I decided to torture you in here and kill you?”

      13

      He shrugged again. “Killing is hard work, Charles.

      14

      Children have the stamina for that kind of labor, but 15

      most mature men do not. Not unless there’s something to 16

      gain — or if they’re in love.”

      17

      “You’re supposed to leave here in two days,” I said.

      18

      “Unless you change your mind.”

      19

      “Is this some kind of trick?” I asked. “Are you playing 20

      some kind of game on me?”

      21

      “No. I’m not, Charles. I’m simply executing a punish-22

      ment. A repentance.”

      23

      “You don’t seem to be suffering to me.”

      24

      “You wouldn’t know,” he said. “But living locked up 25

      with no out, with no control over food. Most of the time 26

      you won’t even talk to me. And the world I live in is mov-27 S

      ing on while I sleep. No one knows where I am. When I 28 R

      get out of here, it’s going to be hard on me.”

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      In a flash of intuition I asked, “Is somebody after you 1

      now, Mr. Bennet?”

      2

      He was struck and smiled to show it.

      3

      “No more than they’re looking for diamonds in Mon-4

      tana.” He laughed.

      5

      I laughed too.

      6

      “So you’re a reclamation?” I asked.

      7

      “Can I have The Alexandria Quartet? ” was his response.

      8

      “No. Tonight it’s lights out and no book. Tonight you 9

      start your sentence for real and then we’ll see how much 10

      you really want to be here.”

      11

      A spasm twisted Bennet’s face for half a moment.

      12

      Hardly long enough for me to be sure of it. But I believed 13

      my sudden assertiveness frightened the smug assassin. I 14

      knew that he was afraid of the locked door and the dark.

      15

      16

      17

      18

      19

      20

      21

      22

      23

      24

      25

      26

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      That night I dreamed that there were agents of some 15

      malevolent power prowling around on my porch. I woke 16

      up at 3:00 a.m. wondering if I had really heard some-17

      thing. I found an envelope lying just outside the front 18

      door.

      19

      “She was here about five minutes ago,” a voice said.

      20

      I yelped and jumped like a frightened eight-year-old.

      21

      Irene Littleneck was standing at the foot of the stairs, 22

      grinning at my little-girl shriek.

      23

      “I came over to see if she did something, but it was 24

      just a letter so I was going back. Then you come blunderin’

      25

      down.”

      26

      “It was a woman?”

      27 S

      “The one that came and moved all that stuff outta your 28 R

      house with that Puerto Rican boy.”

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      “You were sitting outside?” I asked. It felt nice to have 1

      words with a neighbor even if it was 3:00 in the morning 2

      and I was running a private prison in my home.

      3

      “Havin’ a cigarette,” she said. “You know Chastity’s too 4

      sick for me to smoke in the house. Doctor said that her 5

      lungs are too weak.”

      6

      Irene had always been old. When I was five, she was in 7

      her fifties. She and her sister, Chastity, used to come over 8

      and visit with my mother and Brent. I think Irene was 9

      sweet on my sour uncle.

      10

      “Oh,” I said. “How is your sister, Miss Littleneck?”

      11

      “Not so good, Charles. She’s been in that bed for al-12

      most a year now. I make her walk around the room twice 13

      a day, but it’s getting harder and harder to get her up.”

      14

      The sadness in Irene’s voice was pitiful. She and 15

      Chastity had lived together their entire lives. But the only 16

      time I ever saw Chastity in the previous five years was 17

      when the ambulance came now and then to take her off 18

      to the hospital for some kind of treatment.

      19

      “I’m sorry to hear it, Miss Littleneck. If you need any-20

      thing, just come over and ask, okay? If I’m not here just 21

      leave me a note.”

      22

      “Oh, thank you, Charles. Thank you. Thank you.” She 23

      was too far away to touch me, but she held out a thin 24

      hand anyway. Her gratitude was beyond anything I had 25

      said or done.

      26

      “Well,” I said. “I better be getting back to bed. Good S 27

      night.”

      R 28

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      Walter Mosley

      1

      “Good night,” she said, but she didn’t move until I 2

      went back inside my door.

      3

      Dear Mr. Blakey,

      4

      5r

      I apologize for getting off the phone so abruptly the 6

      other night. I called back the next day, but there was no 7

      answer. Tonight I was up late working on my book and I 8

      decided to write you.

      9

      I’m sorry for not giving you a chance to express your 10

      feelings about your business. I suppose that we’re just of 11

      different tempera
    ments and shouldn’t try to force com-12

      munication. But I want you to know that I do respect 13

      your wishes and I will execute the sale of your property 14

      with the utmost professionalism.

      15

      Sincerely,

      16

      Narciss Gully

      17

      18

      The only reason I mention the letter here is to docu-19

      ment how much my life had changed. Not my life exactly 20

      but the circumstances of my world. Narciss wanted me to 21

      call her, that is what I believed. She was up in the middle 22

      of the night thinking about me, trying to get me out of 23

      her head and then trying to write me out of, or into, her 24

      life.

      25

      All that and I was no closer to love.

      26

      I made coffee and plans instead of going to bed. I 27 S

      wanted something. I didn’t know exactly what that some-28 R

      thing was, but I was pretty sure that Anniston Bennet was 178

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      the key. I had to come to a deal with him, an understand-1

      ing. But up until then I felt that he was in control of every 2

      interaction even though he was the one locked up.

      3

      I read Narciss’s letter a dozen times while thinking in 4

      the back of my mind about Bennet.

      5

      She answered on the first ring. “Hello.” It was 5:00 in 6

      the morning by then.

      7

      “Hey, Narciss,” I said. “I just found your note.”

      8

      “You’re up early,” she said.

      9

      “Let’s have lunch tomorrow. You know, not later today 10

      but the next day.”

      11

      “I don’t know.”

      12

      “The Japanese place in Sag Harbor is open for lunch, I 13

      think. Let’s go there,” I said.

      14

      “What time?”

      15

      “One-thirty. We can go at one-thirty and avoid a lunch 16

      crowd.”

      17

      “I don’t know if I should, Mr. Blakey.”

      18

      “The name is Charles and don’t think about it, just 19

      meet me. I won’t bite and I won’t make you see me again 20

      if you don’t want.”

      21

      “Are we going to talk business?”

      22

      “No. No business. I just want to clear up a couple of 23

      things.”

      24

      She hesitated. I heard a tapping on her end of the line.

      25

      “I don’t do much dating . . .”

      26

      “I just want to get together. It’s not a date. It’s lunch.”

     


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