Black Buck(110)

“What’s going on?” My heart was pinballing around in my ribs.

“Are you fucking deaf? I said HQ is on fire. It had to have been those WUSS motherfuckers. Where have you been?”

We jumped into the Tesla and Chauncey peeled off before the doors shut. “I cannot believe this,” he shouted, as we sped down Second Avenue. “These are the real thugs!”

“Where have you been?” Rose repeated, furiously chewing a piece of gum. “We were all waiting for you last night. We had balloons, confetti, fucking everything to celebrate you finally being out to the world as our leader, but you never showed.”

“I went home. If you couldn’t tell, a lot’s going on. I’m a terrorist now, didn’t you know?”

“You can’t just do this, Buckaroo. You can’t just abandon us when we need you.”

“Abandon you? It seemed like you and Jason had everything under control.”

She rolled down the window and spit her gum at an unsuspecting pedestrian. “Are you crazy? We’re just the muscle. You,” she said, pointing, “are the heart.”

We could see the black smoke rising once we got off the Williamsburg Bridge. Chauncey pressed on the gas, blowing through as many red lights as he could without injuring anyone. But when we passed Marcy Playground and reached the four corners—Wally Cat’s, Mr. Aziz’s, and Jason’s old corners—there were cop cars, fire trucks, and ambulances blocking the street.

We jumped out of the Tesla and ran toward the corners, but two heavyset cops blocked our path. “Stay back!” one yelled, and gripped his holster.

“It’s my house!” I shouted, pushing past him.

“No, you don’t,” the other said, grabbing me. “We got a million kids like you out here saying it’s their house. Whose fucking house is it?”

“It’s ours!” Rose kicked the cop in the balls, which forced him to let me go. The other restrained Rose. I ran for the house and ducked under the blue wooden police barriers and the caution tape that stretched across the street like a finish line.

A crowd stood on the sidewalk across from HQ: Happy Campers.

“Buck,” Brian said, running toward me. “We don’t know how it happened—BITCH! It must’ve been Clyde and them. This is some Magneto work, I know it.”

Bright orange flames shot out of every window. Walls crumbled, glass shattered, and the black smoke was so heavy, it resembled burnt cotton candy.

“Is anyone in there?” I asked, watching my house, the house of my mother and father, crumble right before my eyes.

Brian looked at me, his chest rising and falling, and nodded.

“Who?” I shouted, panic exploding in my stomach.

There was a hand on my back. Jason. “Trey, Superman. Li’l nigga wen’ in there to save what he could and never came out.”

I made a break for the house and jumped the steps two by two, screaming his name. I ran upstairs, but the smoke was so thick, it burned my eyes, blinding me. I kept calling him, but all I got was black smoke barreling down my throat, choking me as it grabbed hold of my lungs.

I fell to the floor. It felt like hot coals were burning every surface of my body. The heat entered me, and I couldn’t do anything to push it out. But before I took my last breath, I heard something coming from the kitchen. A familiar laugh, one I hadn’t heard in a long time but could never forget.

“Ma?”



* * *





“Dang, he in a coma?”

“Funny, last time I was the nigga in the hospital. Looks like the tables have turned. Superman is strong, though. He’ll be aight.”

“C’mon, Buckaroo. Stop playing around and wake up. We need you. I swear to God, if you die on me, I’m bringing you back to life just to kill you myself.”

“He’ll be fine. Buck’s like me, nothing can stop him.”

“Ring ring, D. We’re all here for you, habibi. Open your eyes if you can hear us.”

“COCK! Um, sorry. Stay strong, Buck. I guess fire is your kryptonite.”

I felt tubes in my nose and tried to pull them out. The beeping, the shuffling feet, and the sensation of burning lungs made me think I was in purgatory. But when I opened my eyes, the Talented Fifth, plus Soraya and Jason, were staring at me.

“Mornin’, D,” Soraya said, removing my hands from the tubes. I was so weak, all she had to do was pick them up and drop them like lead weights into my lap. “Don’ do that. It’s helpin’ you breathe.”

“There you are, Buckaroo,” Rose said, placing a cool hand on my forehead.

“I,” I started, trying to sit up, coughing like I had just chain-smoked a pack of old turds. “I thought I heard you say something about killing me if I died. I couldn’t let that happen.”

Everyone laughed. One big dysfunctional family. My family. “What day is it?”

“Friday,” Brian said, as he inserted a straw into my mouth. “Drink this.” Water never tasted so good.

“What happened?” I searched their smiling faces for answers.

“You wen’ all supernigga,” Jason said. “Ran into the spot like you was invincible, like that shit wasn’ on fire.”

“Yeah, Mr. Buck,” Jake said, resting a large hand on my foot. “Firefighters said they found you on the floor right before it collapsed ’n’ that you, uh”—he looked down—“kept yellin’ for your ma.”