Joey Cloudy online

 chapter 24

TRAMP: Trying to be the Shepperd:  New Year’s Day 2001xxx     pt 1 & 2

 ” The truth is, you’re the weak and I’m the tyranny of evil men. But I’m tryin’, Ringo. I’m tryin’ real hard to be the shepherd.     

 -Jules Winfield     

 Wake up son we gotta get back to the room to get changed then I gotta go cash my check so we can catch a movie this afternoon.      

 Do you have to work today, Dad?      

 No, but we’ve got to get back to the room to get cleaned up and my check is stashed in the room inside a book of Chinese poetry. They both smiled, ”     

You want some coffee?     

 Yeah, I like the way you make it Dad w the hot chocolate package it’s like Starbucks.     

 Aaron smiled as he mussed his son’s hair before heading into the apartments small kitchen tucked into a corner behind the Livingroom.     

 Ahmaad grinned at his father. Still braided Dad ya’ can’t mess it up!     

 Aaron laughed as he pulled his own hair back revealing the shaved sides and back of his skull and tied the now shoulder length dreads in a short ponytail held in place with the thick black rubber band he kept around his left wrist beneath the sandalwood necklace of Tibetan prayer beads.

He carefully maneuvered through the junk filled living room only stumbling once over the hitchhikers guide to the galaxy on his way to the kitchen while their host Mona and Nathan remained asleep in the upstairs bedroom their black and white cat, Queequeg, descended the carpeted steps following Aaron into the kitchen.     

Ahmaad stood up, laid the cat hair covered Afghan back over the seat of the Lazy Boy recliner, before He padded barefoot towards the half bath at the foot of the stairs stretching and yawning as he walked.     

 Happy New Year Dad! He yawned. 2001 whoohoo!

 Happy New Year Son. Happy New Year HAL Aaron said addressing the aged MAC on the narrow maple desk in the opposite corner of the living room.    

 Who’s Hal? Ahmaad asked. 

The ships computer from an old sci-fi movie Stanley Kubrick’s ‘2001 A Space Odyssey’.  

     Aaron replied from the kitchen as the bathroom door closed.     

 Who did your hair son?      

 Mom. Ahmaad replied returning to the Livingroom.     

 Wow. Aaron exclaimed admiring the neatness of the cornrows.     

 Yeah, I know right, not bad for a white girl.  Ahmaad said with a smile.    

 They both burst out laughing.      

 Aaron stopped laughing as he explained. You know yo’ momma grew up in little Egypt, right down the street from here, just off of Forrest Lane. That was a long time ago, long before we were married. before we ever met. He stopped his revery. and although he smiled as he looked at his son there was a lingering sadness in his eyes. I like it.      

 Yeah, me too.  

   Ahmaad said as he casually picked up one of Nathanial’s old schoolbooks from where it lay partially buried underneath a scattered pile of comics on the floor “The Odyssey” he said reading the cover aloud as he picked up the weighty tome and sat down with it on the futon to read.     

 Homer, 8th century Greek, English translation 15th century. Aaron offered from the kitchen as he poured them both a half cup of coffee each, adding an entire packet of Nestles coco mix to each cup, he added a half teaspoon of sugar and cinnamon as he stirred the slurry with a fork until all the chocolate powder dissolved before filling the other half of the cup with milk then topping the concoction off with a delicate sprinkle sugar and of cinnamon.      

 You see Ahmaad, Aaron said as he gently thumped the edge of the sugar and cinnamon loaded teaspoon while holding it over the coffee cup; it’s important to study the greats…I myself, I am preparing to do deep dive into Milton after I finish wading through the 9 circles as it were, Dante in translation of course I lack the formal education to break my tongue and savor it in its original I presume Italian but the ancients often wrote in Latin.  Either way it’s all Greek to me.

I’ll muddle through a good English translation with the rest of the Philistines. Finished Blake first, bad idea skipping Hobbs, they reference each other across time so chronological is the logical sequence to study their work. Still gathering my research materials; Oxford companion, Cambridge reader, Norton anthology, Notes, biographies ect… In order to understand the poem in its proper setting. You need to know not only who the poet was but who the audience for the Divine Comedy was. With out context that rather voluminous tome you have there may as well still be in Greek.     

 Aaron poured some of the milk into the cat’s bowl as he spoke and Queequeg stopped circling his feet to lap the milk from his bowl. Aaron returned the half gallon plastic jug of milk to the fridge before he carried their mugs filled with chocolate coffee into the living room, carefully handing a mug to Ahmaad who sat on the edge of the futon in Mona’s normal spot pulling on his plaid converse sneakers before he continued reading.     

 Thanks Dad.     

 Hummmm!     

 Aaron replied sipping his chocolate coffee and taking the seat next to Ahmaad on the futon.     

 This is some good coffee, Dad.     

 Aaron looked up from his cup at Ahmaad as he replied without missing a beat doing the worst impersonation of Tarantino’s voice in history:      

“I don’t need you to tell me how fucking good my coffee is, okay? I’m the one who buys it. I know how good it is. When ‘Mona’ goes shopping she buys SHIT. I buy the gourmet expensive stuff because when I drink it, I want to taste it. But you know what’s on my mind right now? It AIN’T the coffee in my kitchen…” launching into Pulp Fictions ‘Dead Nigga’ Storage’ from memory as his 12-year-old son howled with laugher…     

 The two finished their coffee then put on their coats, picked up their packs, and let themselves out of Mona and Nat’s apartment while their host still slept. The morning sky was full of clouds, but no snow was falling, the white fluff that covered the ground this morning was all left over from last night’s snowfall. They’d timed it perfectly by jumping the back 7-foot wooden gate, which saved time since now all they had to do was walk across the street. They only had to wait a few minutes in the crunchy snow for their bus to arrive. And forty-five minutes later they were walking down Coit cutting across the transit stations gigantic bright white covered empty parking lot next to the hotel.  Aaron flicked the butt of a menthol into the air and watched as it pinwheeled through the frozen air over the the frost covered concrete of the parking lot. Ahmaad looked at the titles of the song on the Elephant album the crimson cover flashing in whiteness. He put the silver disc into the player, closed the lid and pressed the carbon-colored rectangular plastic button as they reached their room.       

   The white plastic electronic key card didn’t open the door. Aaron wiped the dark magnetic strip on the back of the credit card sized plastic after blowing on it. Ahmaad watched their breath make white clouds in front of their faces stomping his feet on the sidewalk to get the snow to fall from his sneakers. Aaron wiped the card on the leg of his jeans once more before giving it one last futile try swiping it through the slot next to the doorhandle. He felt a sickening wave of bile churning nausea as the realization of what was happening gripped him. That motherfucker hadn’t paid the rent. It was his week to cover the rent and that useless cunt of a dope fiend brother of his had smoked up his check! 

Son of a bitch! 

   Now they were locked out of their room. 

What’s wrong Dad? 

I’m not sure, let’s go to the office and see if we can get the manager to let us in the room so that I can get my check. Ahmad followed his dad towards the front of the residential hotel to the manager’s office, not quite sure exactly what was going on but certain that something wasn’t right. The manager was a petite blonde who would have been attractive if it wasn’t for the haggard look of perpetual worry etched into her face. She was only thirty years old, but she looked at least a decade older. She wore rectangular glasses in black plastic rims and kept her hair cropped short enough to style or wash and wear without having to bother with rollers or curling irons. Her blue eyes looked tired in her round face but still she managed a weak smile as they entered the office. 

Good morning, how can I help you? 

Yes my name is Aaron Moore I’m in room 1169 and my key isn’t working this morning. 

What’s that last name again she said as she keyed his information into the computer. Aaron, Moore, room 1,1,6,9. The one in the back corner on the first floor. 

I’m sorry mister Moore but there’s nothing wrong with your key. The computer disabled your locks automatically this morning for nonpayment of this week’s rent. 

I’m sorry, but I share that room with my little brother and he assured me that he had the rent this week. I talked to him yesterday before I left work, and he told me he had already paid it. 

I’m sorry sir but we have no record of his doing so and I’ve been here every day for the last week. 

Ok listen, I left my paycheck in the room. If you could let me in, then I can get it cashed and pay you after I get back. I don’t believe this. Can I use your phone for a minute to call Ernest? 

What’s the number? I’ll dial it for you.?” she said as she passed him the receiver, he noticed how tiny and pale her hands were, she was as small as a child. 

214 428 7598 666 that’s his beeper number he’ll know it’s me and call right back put in the number and three sixes that’s my code, so kinfolk’ll know it’s me calling. Aaron let the ALICE pack slide off his left shoulder onto the tiles on of the office smoking a menthol. Ahmad took a seat in one of the floral print covered chairs and began reading a gardening magazine he found lying on the end table listening to the White Stripes Icky Thump playing on the Walkman. Halfway through his cig the phone rang. Penelope, in Bookman Old-style, is etched on her gold name tag in a carbon script. She answered on the second ring 

Hearthside Inn, she almost sang in a well-rehearsed dulcet tone, Penelope speaking, how may I help you? Yes, yes, he did. Her voice was mesmerizing in caressed the hearer’s mind. He’s right here just a moment. Her face an enigma, she passed the phone back to Aaron. 

What up nigga’? 

What up? I’ll tell you what up nigga’ I’m in the office of the course me and my son are locked outta the goddamned room that’s what up nigga’ now why in the fuck did you tell me that you had already paid these motherfuckers when you know you aint did shit? 

Oh dawg look uh listen I was going to but my boy ride broke down before we could get out der’ and do dat so I was just gone hit ‘em up first thang in the morning. 

Nigga is you crazy it’s eight fifteen am you lying ass done spent all your money ain’t cha. 

Naw dawg, look uh…I lost my check is all I… 

Mother fucker! Don’t tell me no more of your bullshit assed lies bitch! I’m standing here with my son, its fucking snowing outside and we in the goddamned office, locked outta the motherfuckin room because you spent last night sucking on a glass dick! 

Man I… 

What the fuck am I supposed to do Brother?! You tell me? I can’t even get in the room to get my fucking paycheck ‘cause the mother fucking computer automatically locks you out when they don’t get no ends! 

I’m sorry… 

You sorry alright motherfucker! I can’t fucking believe I let your dope fiend ass talk me into letting you stay with me! First you pawn my TV, then claim you dropped it. Then replace it with this one half the size of the one you stole! 

I really did drop it, I didn’t pawn it… 

Whatever dope fiend motherfucker. Listen, I’m going to work and see if I can get these fucking Yids to cut me another check and then I’m coming back here to pay my rent. When I get back you needs to come get your shit outta my goddamned room. 

Where am I supposed to go dawg? 

I suggest you take yo’ ass back home to that fat cunt of a wife you married, ‘couse I don’t give a fuck if you live under a bridge or in mother fuckin cardboard box! Just get the fuck outta my room tonight nigga’! I’m sick ah yo’ lying ass. And tired of all of your rock head bull shit! Aaron took a deep breath. As he handed the receiver back to the receptionist. Penelope’s face was streaked with tears. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you. It’s just that my little brother has some problems…and there’s just nothing I can do to help him. Every time I try, I get fucked over. 

Here…  

Penelope handed a plastic keycard to Aaron.  

My husband’s…he’s the maintenance man. 

Aaron took the key,  

listen I…Thank you.  

Penelope stood behind the counter her face contorted with grief sobbing as she waved goodbye. It was all too much, all too familiar. 

Aaron called Jennifer from the phone in the room, it was eight twenty-five. One of her roommates finally picked up the phone and Jennifer eventually mumbled. 

Hello? Yeah, I’m going in today. Thanks for calling and waking me up or else I woulda been late again. Yeah, sure I’ll see you in twenty minutes. Bye. 

Aaron went to the fridge and grabbed a beer then picked up a half smoked blunt from his stash box in the dresser drawer. 

You need a bath son? 

No, I’ll just put on some clean clothes. 

What about you dad are you gonna take a shower? 

Naw, I’m gonna smell like I feel today, fuck’em. Jen’ll be here in about twenty minutes so get yourself a bowl of cereal. That oughta hold you until we get this check cashed grab something from the doughnut shop on the way back. OK. 

Yeah. 

Aaron sat on the edge of the bed, he closed his eyes, his hands still trembling with rage. It startled him when Ahmaad hugged him, he had been so lost in thought he didn’t even notice him walk up to him. 

I love you dad. Don’t worry, everything’s gonna be all right. 

I love you too Son. Now, get changed and be sure to brush your teeth cause you got puppy breath. He mussed his hair as he headed to the bathroom to get changed. 

Nice try Dad Ahmaad laughed it’s still braided. 

   They both laughed. He was right they’d been in tighter spots than this, tighter binds than this before and somehow, they always made it. He put out the blunt and finished the beer in two long swallows. Burped so loud that he made Ahmaad laugh in the bathroom. 

Excuse you. 

That ain’t bad manners” he shouted at the laughter coming from the bathroom that’s good beer. It was one of his father’s favorite lines he loved quoting the old man. He remembered how proud he was of his father when he was his age, he wondered when he would become disillusioned with him and think of him as a dreamer and a failure like everyone else in the family. Oh well there was no use in worrying about that now right now his son loved him and that was all the love in the world that was all the love that he needed. 

Don’t worry little man I ain’t gonna let nothing happen to you on my watch. Ahmad turned on the radio the morning DJs had stopped babbling long enough to play some music the red-hot chili peppers under the bridge. They both sang along with the radio. 

   Stevie Nixon gave them a ride to oak cliffs Lenamond’s parts house to cash his check the owner Dale was an old friend of his Dads so he didn’t care if Aarons id was expired. He couldn’t get a new id because he had warrants for unpaid traffic tickets he didn’t have the time to sit it out in the county and he didn’t have the cash to pay the ticket. The tiny blonde salesgirl Stevie tuned the radio to a top 40 rock station and turned down the volume as she spoke her Arkansas twang making her even cuter  

I had a good time Friday night and I wanted to thank you for inviting me to the poetry reading and for the book, it was amazing. She’d enjoyed her last date with Aaron and after seeing the way other women at the poetry reading looked at him, she figured if she wanted to hook up with him, she best get him on her territory. Next Friday my place we can watch another movie, order Chinese food. Yeah, that sounds like fun, it’s a date then. The car stopped in the parking space in front of the hotel’s office. Thanks again for the ride. Aaron said as she leaned across her seat and kissed him. She liked the way he tasted like chocolate coffee, menthol cigarettes, and weed, he liked the way she tasted like Jolly Ranchers strawberry candy, bubblegum lip gloss, and dreams. Ahmaad climbed out of the back seat grinning as he headed toward the hotel. I’ll see ya later. she cooed as he exited the car and headed towards the hotel office door.  

   Aaron paid the week’s rent and had his little brother’s name taken off the rental agreement. When they went into the room all of Ernest’s things were already gone. The SOB had come while he was away. At first, it looked like everything of Aarons was still there then he noticed that his ‘collected works of Octavio Paz’ the only hardback book he had ever paid full price for, and from a major chain bookstore no less, was missing! 

Well, at least the junky son of a bitch is reading poetry. 

Yeah, Ahmaad laughed, The good stuff. 

 Aaron laughed as he sat down to relax and play Jet Moto on the PlayStation with his son as they jammed to DMX ‘Party Up in Here’. How does Chinese sound tonight?   

Great can we get extra egg rolls.  

Sure, Aaron replied as he focused on the hotels tv screen now split in half vertically. On the bottom half of the screen, focused on Aaron’s light weight hover bike as it launched high into the air after clipping a stump in the computer-generated swamp, they were racing each other, as well as 10 other racers controlled by the computer. 

You only got one turbo left dad. 

they both knew every rut and stump in the course both had memorized every curve and straight. Ahmad opened up the throttle and the big green machine rode out the course leaning tight into the curve’s expertly sling shotting out and staying close as possible to the yellow machine that still had several turbos left for the back half of the muddy course. The big machines had plenty of ponies to catch the little yellow and black hover bike his dad operated and every time he got too far ahead the old man burned a turbo to close the gap. Popping corkscrew wheelies, barrel rolls and back flips off of muddy ramps that rose up out of the mire to refill his turbos. Before the final stretch the yellow machine nosedived attempting a forward flip off of the last ramp. 

Shit! Aaron shouted while Ahmad laughed as he burned his last turbo sprinting over the finish line. 

Good race dude. Aaron said smiling. 

It felt good to beat his dad. He knew that he didn’t let anybody win! The only way to beat him was to get better. When he beat him, it was a real victory. While Aaron was on the phone ordering Chinese food for dinner. Ahmad continued to race against the computer. As soon as he hung up the phone it rang, he thought it might be the restaurant, but it was Gen. She was on her way to Dallas and wanted to hang out tonight. 

Great, I’ll see you later. Aaron hung up the rooms phone. 

Who was that Dad? 

It was Gen, she’s coming by. 

Yeah! 

You like her huh? 

Yeah, she’s really nice. 

Aaron looked at the two paintings that she had given him. They were good therapy but terrible art, still he displayed them proudly on the dresser. He wondered if she was someone, he could have a real relationship with, build a life with, did they have a future together? Was she as screwed up as he was or was she just as crazy as all of the rest of the women already trapped within this insane asylum that was his life. And where did that kiss come from Stevie was out of his league he was amazed when she asked him out on the first date, but he figured she was just new and bored, and he never expected to see her again other than work then she came to the poetry reading new year eve? Woman that looks like pageant winners didn’t date guys like him he was convince he wasn’t worthy of her. Now she had invited him to come to her place again for a second date. I did not see that coming.  

Dad, you were right about the poetry reading at the bookstore dad. Those people can’t write very well. They keep reading the same poems over and over again or they read their new stuff which is just awful. It used to be good but something’s not right with the reading anymore, it doesn’t feel good to be there anymore. 

Yeah, I’ve known it for a while, but I was hoping it was just a slump. 

What’s Tavah up to tonight? 

She called me earlier today and wished me a happy new year, but I don’t think that we’ll see her tonight. I think she has a date tonight. 

You know mom said I looked like a bum in the trench coat Jen gave me? 

They both looked at each other then threw back their heads and laughed. 

What did you say to her? 

I told her it was a London Fog, but I don’t think she knew what that meant. 

Don’t let it get to you Son, you looking sharp in that coat. It sounds like she’s just a little jealous. 

Yeah, she’s always asking me about your girlfriends and who you’re seeing, what they look like, how old they are and stuff. 

Really? I didn’t know that. 

Yeah, you never ask me anything about who she’s seeing. 

We’ll that John guy seems alright. 

He said that you’re homeless and he’s always bagging on you with mom. 

I’m sorry to hear that. I still contend that he’s the only decent guy that I’ve seen your mom with in her entire life, other than me of course. 

Of course. You’re a good dad. Ahmad said, his face breaking into a broad grin. 

Nobody else seems to think so. 

Doesn’t matter what other people think. I’m the kid. I’m the only one whose opinion matters. Ahmaad continued to put his skills to the test on the play station as he maintained a commanding lead over the computer-generated opponents. Aaron looked up from where he sat on the edge of one of the beds staring in amazement at the floor where his youngest child was sitting crossed legged while he played. 

You’re an old soul Son. 

Thanks. You’re a good Dad. 

-about the author JD Cloudy’s poetry has disappeared in the literary journals; Fatfizz, Mad Swirl, Texas Beat Anthology, Danse Macabre, Du Jour, and Death List Five. He has won no literary awards, entered no slam competitions, and never completed college. He lives to write in Dallas, Tx