THE HANDSTAND | MARCH 2007 |
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Finally Johnny
told Leny and his other brother Tommy Tom
Tom who were calling him to another fight
- he would no longer be their
"Patsy". No more. No more would he fight
to feed greed but this very night he fought: sending
the biggest guy of the three reeling backwards under
the street lights - and not in one of the many dark
alleys where people lay dead for days as cops were
afraid to go into such places - where Johnny chose to
stop at the intersection where four gas stations
were situated throwing great heaps of lights out to
attract "addicted motorists" looking for
a gas fix after negotiating fifteen green traffic
lights by going a steady thirty miles an hour in his
brand new convertible Spring-time
yellow Mustang, and Johnny turned to the little
man who had urged a bad beating on the "honk"
and said: "You would have been the one to stab me in
the back if we were in an alley." The little guy
nodded wearing the same hateful face that people wore
while lynching Blacks where apartheid began ....
for a long time, Johnny would have a recurring dream:
walking in a very deep darkness on a street while
pushing a gurney full of innocent people, who had
been sacrificed in the pseudo notion of making a
better safer world for everyone that had the elite
hiding in bunkers while blood was making rivers above
their ducking cowering heads, toward
intersections; watching for traffic lights to see if they
remained green but instead of turning to red would fade
into a blackness and yet he always managed to get over to
the other side and just then an African-American man
began walking to his side - whom he could see out of the
corner of his eye - and just as suddenly on his left side
appeared an African-American cop walking along a bank
slightly above the sidewalk; coming toward him were two
young American-Black boys smiling happily; similar to the
youngsters he was teaching near Bedford-Stuyvesant;
telling them education was a possible door to getting out
of their rat infested slums; behind them walking slowly
with an angry face was another man as Johnny
continued to push forward crossing every intersection
whose light would go from a green to a darkness and when
Johnny looked to his left lying in the burnt brown grass
was the severed head of an African-American ....
Johnny always awoke at this point of the dream and
would remember how he arrived at their apartment and his
wife asked him how his day went and he said :"Good!
Real good." Then he went into their fourteen
month old son's room and Jon was awake trying to
capture the little dangling figures hovering above
his head and Johnny placed his finger into his son's
palm and just after the baby squeezed it tightly was when
Johnny allowed himself to cry softly. |