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Posted on June 29, 2007
Filed Under The Stories |

It was a rainy morning and traffic was heavier than usual. Cars were chasing other cars with horns blaring, like recently jilted women chasing their ex-lovers down the street demanding further explanation for why they were no longer couples. His attempts at crossing the road had been repeatedly thwarted. For no good reason whatsoever the question, “Why did the chicken cross the road?” kept running through his head on eternal repeat.

Where the hell is a red light when you need one?

He stepped out into the street again and a blaring horn greeted the move. Tires screeched like a violin’s bow grabbed out of the unsuspecting hand of a rapturous virtuoso and he froze, as if somewhere nearby an instamatic camera was about to go off and he needed to capture that pose for eternity.

Though significantly slower than it could have been, the car hadn’t managed to stop on a dime so when it hit him he went down like a lonely pin seeking relief from the speeding bowling ball curving towards its midriff. He folded like a crash test dummy and hit his head on the tarmac before a hosanna of stars exploded in his head and he blacked out.

“Yo, yo, check it out! That bitch over there, she’s cruisin’ for a bruisin’ if you know what I mean?”

“She’s looking to get punched?”

“In her nappy dugout yo! She’s looking to get bruised down there.”

“What?”

“Screwed, rammed, tailgated, fucked-six-ways-from-Sunday! Whatever you white folks are calling it these days!”

“I’m not…”

“Yeah so you gonna go over there and do her or what?”

“I don’t know her. I don’t even see her.”

“Trust me, she’s there.”

“So what am I supposed to do, hang my dick out in the dark and hope a girl finds it?”

“It’s nightclub yo! Things gonna be dark, what you want a spotlight trained on your junk while you get your crunk on?”

“I don’t know what you’re saying.”

“Man you the squarest hipster I ever did see.”

“I’m not…a…”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever. I’m out.”

And he seemed to float out of a skylight, as if they were all underwater.

He didn’t understand it. They were speaking less than a moment ago and everyone knew it was not possible to talk underwater.

And how was he breathing?

“Hey!”

She was beautiful, in the way women can be beautiful when they are only yours for a few hours. It was difficult to see in clear terms and so it was nearly impossible to define her outer limits without everything going wavy every few seconds.

“Hey.”

“You want to dance?”

“I don’t know how.”

“That’s okay. Just shake what your mama gave you.”

“See, I can’t follow a beat.”

“Why not?”

“Tone deaf.”

“I don’t believe that.”

“You have been warned.”

They lasted three minutes on the dance floor before she heeded the protests of others, took his hand and led him away. Her hand was small and warm in his, he found himself getting aroused.

“You were not joking.”

“What! It wasn’t as bad as I thought it would get.”

“Then you have to thank me.”

“Why?”

“For saving your life. Some of those guys don’t mess around.”

“Okay… Thank you.”

She smiled and without really understanding it, he felt the urge to put his arm around her waist. So he did. She didn’t protest so his hand stayed. A few minutes later he leaned into the smell of her shampoo and said, “You have fantastic skin.”

She turned to him and smiled, “That hand creeps any lower and I’m keeping it.”

“Hunh?”

“I’ll rip it out and keep it in a jar. Use it to scratch those itches in hard places.”

“My intentions are honourable.”

“it’s your actions I’m worried about.”

Suddenly he was aware of incredibly loud clapping. He didn’t remember closing his eyes but he felt obligated to protest the noise, “Who scored? Why is everybody clapping so loud?”

His eyes were barely open a crack but the light that flooded through sent a lightning bolt directly up to his brain.

“Oww, who turned all the lights on?”

“I’m so sorry. Are you okay?”

The voice sounded familiar but he couldn’t place it.

“Hunh?”

“You came out of nowhere. I tried to stop but I couldn’t. Please say you’re okay.”

He hazarded another attempt at opening his eyes. The roar of traffic and the gathering human feet helped him remember where he was.

So that’s what it feels like to be hit by a speeding truck. Car…whatever.

He sat up, looked around and realised that he was wet all over.

Great!

“I am so sorry.”

He nodded and got to his feet and for the first time he looked at her. She was beautiful and somehow…familiar.

“Can I get you anything?”

“Have we met before?”

She looked at him, really looked at him as someone other than the person she had just hit with her car.

“I don’t think so…”

He nodded and started to walk away. He might have to get that pain in his hip looked at but he was fine otherwise. She called after him, “Are you sure you’re fine?”

He called back, “I will be.”

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