“The goddamn Weasel!” Daddy Peaceful
got up from his Ezee-Guy. “Hey,
O’Page. It’s not you, son.” He returned
to the kitchen. “It’s that goddamn
Weasel. I’ll bet you all my tips.”
“Daddy used to say that when we was
little,” Jasmine explained. “When he
was working.”
“Who’s a gambler? Who would get in
debt and weasel his way out of it any
way he could?”
“The Weasel!” Nana-Lily and Jasmine
said in unison. “The goddamn Weasel.”
“You got his number, baby?”
“I think so. I’ll go call him and Tulip
too.” In five minutes, she came back.
“Tulip say we right. I had to convince
her to stay in Queens and not drag
Cherie over to the Bronx. She wanted
to drive right up there. I got the
Weasel’s machine. Full of messages.”
“Come on, O’Page. Let’s go look for the
Weasel.”
“Goddamn Weasel!” Nana-Lily shook
her head. “We should a known that
from the jump.”
Jasmine escorted O’Page and Daddy
Peaceful down the hall to the steel front
door. “You want a take my cell in case
you find out anything?”
Daddy Peaceful had trouble operating
cell phones. He could never find the
on/off button. “We coming right back,
baby. If we go some place else we’ll
remember to call.”
“Don’t worry, Jas.” O’Page reached the
door first and undid the locks, which
he had recently installed. “I don’t gone
a let nobody take my son.”
Eight thirty now and the amber lights
lit the emptying streets. No nightlife in
Harlem anymore. No more three bars
on every block and plenty of flow
between them. No more crammed
tenements pouring out children on to
the street. No more stick ball in
dimming light. No more little soul
food shops and late night breakfasts.
No more Jock’s and Red Rooster and
Palm Café and Count Basie’s and
Harlem Moon two for the price o one.
Colonel Mac and Burger Bin and Taco
Grill and the Stubbins coffee joints
killed all that. Just the franchises and
Chinese food now. They show us
something shiny and we go for the
okeydoke and lose everything. Just like
Tulsa white man drops a bomb and we
standing round wondering what
happened. Poor leadership. Could sure
use Old Man Randolph and Brother
Malcolm now. n
“Well, he’s my son too.”
“Did I say different?”
“Don’t you two start,” Daddy Peaceful
intervened. “Fret not, daughter, we’ll
keep you posted.”
15
“What about me?” Jasmine stood up. “I
live in the Bronx too.”
O’Page shot Daddy Peaceful a
conspiratorial glance. “I want you stay
with Nana-Lily, Jas. She shouldn’t be
alone. You collect more information. I
got a bring Daddy back home later
anyway.”
BLACK RENAISSANCE NOIRE
He studied the note as he puffed his
spliff. 10000 paid. Regular lined paper
cut from a book. But the paid look
rubber stamped. But the 10000 look
handwritten. No instructions. Even
O’Page say it look like a receipt. For
what? A debt O’Page didn’know he
didn’pay? From what I read in the
newspaper these Reupeon wiseguys got
a hundred ways to get even with a man.
So why take two kids? If O’Page did
anything that bad he would remember
it even if he didn’tell us. But I didn’see
it in his face. If he had a debt he’d
pay it. Big honest white boy. Borrowed
my ball head hammer one time and
brought it back shined. So if this a
receipt I got a figure out who owed
what to who. Who had a ten thousand
dollar ?????????????????????)?????????() I8?10????????????((??????????A4((0