Black Buck(54)

He drew a lungful of air. “Sorry doesn’t work here, Buck. Not at all. We were counting on you. You never get emotional in war, Buck. Ever. Listen”—he paused—“don’t come to work tomorrow.”

My heart stopped. And when I say that, I truly mean it. For a moment, I couldn’t feel it. While the idea of dying on the couch in our living room was bad enough, the thought of my career ending at Sumwun was infinitely worse.

“Are you—are you saying I’m fired?” I asked, afraid of the answer.

Silence. Silence that likely lasted only a few seconds but sprouted legs and ran far and hard.

“I should fire you, Buck. It’s what the board wants.”

Salty tears gushed from my eyes, stinging my cuts. Whatever I had eaten in the morning started to reverse its trajectory through my intestines, and the room spun around me.

“But no, Buck,” he said. “I know that what happened today won’t happen again. I promised you that as long as you’re honest with me I’ll always have your back, remember? But you need to lay low over the next few days until this blows over, okay?”

All I could do was sigh with relief. I grabbed the paper towel from Ma and wiped my eyes with it, forgetting about the alcohol. I didn’t care.

“Okay, Buck?” he repeated. “Promise me that you’re not going to give the news anything to write about. Nothing.”

“I promise,” I said, still crying but shedding tears of relief now. “Thank you, Rhett. I’m sorry. Nothing like this will ever happen again.”

“I know, Buck. It’s going to be fine. You know I see you as my brother, right?”

“I know, Rhett. I see you as my brother too. Forreal.”

“Good. So here’s what I want you to do. Take tomorrow off and go to Shangri-La Palace. It’s on Thirty-Second and Sixth.”

“Alright, but for what?”

“To relax, Buck. What else? I’m sure you look like shit right now. I’ll book a body scrub, facial, and massage—the works. You wanna take Soraya?”

“Sure,” I said, unsure of everything. I just wanted the day to be over.

“Great. I’ll book it for two. My treat.”

“Okay. Thanks, Rhett. I appreciate it, man. Everything.”

“Of course. Love you, Buck. Rest up and see you at seven sharp on Monday. We’ll keep fighting, but we need you in top shape.”

“Love you too, Rhett. See you on Monday.”





15





“You happy?” Soraya asked, storming into my bedroom and throwing a pile of papers at me.

“What?” I quickly sat up.

“The papers.” She pointed to the mess at the bottom of my feet.

“What are you talkin’ about? I see the arts section about some new play hittin’ Broadway, some shit about baseball and politics.”

“This!” she shouted, shoving one of the sheets in my face.

It was me, well, a close-up of that Starbucks photo of me, with the words YOUNG THUG HITS BACK plastered in bold white lettering. Fuck.

She crossed her arms, cradling her breasts as if they were ripe melons. “Well?”

“Well what?” I threw the front cover to the floor and lay back down.

“Are you happy with yourself? With all this publicity you’re gettin’?”

“Habibti, c’mon. You know I’m not. It was my bad. Can we forget about it?”

“Forget about it, D? This isn’ somethin’ you jus’ forget about. You better go and apologize to Jason.”

I shot straight back up. “Apologize? That motherfucker was comin’ at me on national television. We’re even now and I don’ feel sorry about a damn thing.”

“Alright, D. If you say so.” She quietly gathered the papers and threw them in the trash before heading for the door.

“Wait.” I jumped out of bed and grabbed her hand. “Where you goin’? Let’s go to the spa, relax, and have a good day. I don’ have to go in, remember?”

She yanked her hand away and opened the door. “Good for you. Now you’ll have plenty of time to think about how wrong you are. Peace.”

“C’mon, Soraya, don’ be that way. I’m the victim here. I got people comin’ at me from all angles and you’re takin’ their side? What is this? I thought it was always me and you.”

She paused at the door, inhaling deeply before facing me. “It is, D. And if you think I’m takin’ someone else’s side, then you’re more messed up than I thought. So what I’m gonna say is this: either you grow up and apologize to Jason, or I’m not gonna see you for a very, very long time. Hal tafham?”

I closed my eyes and saw Jason with Bonnie Sauren, wearing that black balaclava with that black hoodie and those saggy black pants. Talking shit about me. My heart banged against my chest like a stranger in the night. Harder. Faster. Louder. And my jaw became so tight, I swore I was going to split my teeth in half. But when I opened my eyes, Soraya was gone. The door downstairs slammed shut. In my boxers, I ran down the stairs and out the door after her.

“Okay, okay, okay,” I said, snatching her hand. “I’m sorry. I’ll do it. I’ll get dressed and say sorry to him on the way to the spa. Deal?”