after absence
see if you can spot the allusions in the selection from gurbet'ten sonra
As soon as I started walking my head began to hurt. I squinted up at the sun. The morning really was nice but I could really register it with my lanced brain. I walked to cooper park with my hands in my pocket and a book tucked under by armpit. The walk lessened my headache as the tall walls of warehouses blocked the sun. once I got the park I looked around the entire rink of benches encircling a grass field and only saw one person. They laid back with their chest open to the sun. I circled around to walk by them, if not to sit by them. Soon I could see it was a black man with his hair braided back, exposing his shining sweaty forehead. Before I even got close he sat forward and rummaged through a bag at his side. I fought the pause in my step, and continued straight towards him. Then he called out to me.
“yo man, you got a dollar?”
“ugh, yeah, I think so.” I stood in front of him, my head and shoulders casting a shadow over his chest. His old blue shirt had circles of sweat growing outwards over his bulky stomach. Glancing over at his bag I could see its torn handle and a few black plastic bags stuffed into the puckered zipper. I drew a dollar off the few squeezed into my pants pocket and held it out to him between my fingers. He took it and it disappeared into his bag.
“it’s hot man, it’s going to be a hot one today.” Something about the way he said the sentence put me at ease, and I went over and sat on the edge of the bench next to him. my thin book rested on my knee as I went to open it he spoke again.
“Man I gotta walk my ass all the way down to von king park, get my shit from my man dean, not going to make it in this heat.”
I didn’t ask him why he wouldn’t take the train. I just slipped my thumb in between the pages of the book and looked out at the park in the same direction he was.
“Yeah, I had to get out of my apartment, it’s an oven in there.”
“You can’t be spending your day in your room anyways, not when the people are going to be walking out here, you ain’t gonna see nobody in your room”
“That’s true”
“it's the truth, the world is out here, you live in this world, you’re a child in this world, you need to be in it everyday.”
He still didn’t look directly at me but I still felt comfortable. I looked out at his gaze and then back at his face. I realized the reason why he didn’t seem threatening was that he was smiling.
“ yeah that’s what I love about New York, you are sort of forced to be around other people.” He looked back down into his bag and pulled out what looked like a pen. As he rested it on his stomach I realized it was a straw with its end cut off and sharpened. With his other arm he pressed it against his stomach. Again I didn’t feel uncomfortable when I realized he didn’t have a hand attached to this other arm. Tucked up against his stomach his wrist shrunk into a wrinkled concave knot. As he spoke he began to grind the straw into it, as if scratching it.
“gotta see my boy, left all my shit at his house, can’t leave your shit when someone is taking care of you. He took me in and provided for me. When they say I can’t see my kid and my world was falling apart, he took me in, can’t just be taken in, take his support, just leave it there.”
“what did you leave with him?”
“you know, my jackets and my bags, I fight with the nigger, you know, but don’t mean I don’t admit to him or any motherfucker that he is my savior. Can’t see my fucking kid? He’s helping me through the hard time. You live alone in the city, it’ll eat you up, no doubt about it.”
“Ha, well at least we’re never alone here.”
“no doubt about it. People ain't going nowhere either. It's always going to be like this. Heaven too. Heaven is full of people. People think they can get to heaven without knowing how to get along with people. They always think of heaven like they going to get in there and everyone is going to do and be what you want. Heaven is crowded, ain’t no doubt about it, every person who’s down here goes up there, everyone gets God’s grace. where you think they’re going, to their own heaven? You gotta deal with other fucking people’s problems too, it’s God who provides for you up there, ain’t mean you don’t have to see his other children too”
“Yeah, hell is other people”
“yeah you know that’s right. you know you might get your salvation for yourself, you might get saved, but that don’t make no difference when you can’t get along with nobody up in paradise. You can’t have no peace if you can’t support others, God ain’t forsaken you, God has no orphans, don’t mean you ain’t your brothers keeper, don’t mean when you’re walking in heaven you aren’t going to pass other people on the street and those people are still going to be alive.”
He pulled a baggy out of the bag and tucked it under his chin.
“yo man, close my bag.”
“Sure” I stood up and without looking to much either at him or inside the bag, I tugged the zipper closed. With the baggy still tucked under his chin he took the sharpened straw and scooped cocaine onto its tip. He held it up to his gleaming nose, inhaling without a sound. After this series of motions he rested everything back on his stomach and began to smile again.
“I see heaven in the morning. Before the sun is too high. Don’t matter what time of year, it could be cold out, it could middle of the summer, when you see someone in the beginning of the day, right in the beginning, it looks like heaven is going to be, crowded but everyone just got there.”
“huh, that’s interesting.”
“ain’t that how you dream and see heaven?”
“I don’t know”
“what do you mean you don’t know?”
“I just haven’t thought of how it would look like, you’re right, there will be lots of people there.”
“you gottta think more then.”
He repeated the awkward sequence of inhaling cocaine from his straw. Then he rubbed the corner of his puckered wrist against his eyelid.
For a short while we sat in silence as I pretended to read my book.
“yo man, you got a dollar?”
“ugh, yeah, I think so.” I stood in front of him, my head and shoulders casting a shadow over his chest. His old blue shirt had circles of sweat growing outwards over his bulky stomach. Glancing over at his bag I could see its torn handle and a few black plastic bags stuffed into the puckered zipper. I drew a dollar off the few squeezed into my pants pocket and held it out to him between my fingers. He took it and it disappeared into his bag.
“it’s hot man, it’s going to be a hot one today.” Something about the way he said the sentence put me at ease, and I went over and sat on the edge of the bench next to him. my thin book rested on my knee as I went to open it he spoke again.
“Man I gotta walk my ass all the way down to von king park, get my shit from my man dean, not going to make it in this heat.”
I didn’t ask him why he wouldn’t take the train. I just slipped my thumb in between the pages of the book and looked out at the park in the same direction he was.
“Yeah, I had to get out of my apartment, it’s an oven in there.”
“You can’t be spending your day in your room anyways, not when the people are going to be walking out here, you ain’t gonna see nobody in your room”
“That’s true”
“it's the truth, the world is out here, you live in this world, you’re a child in this world, you need to be in it everyday.”
He still didn’t look directly at me but I still felt comfortable. I looked out at his gaze and then back at his face. I realized the reason why he didn’t seem threatening was that he was smiling.
“ yeah that’s what I love about New York, you are sort of forced to be around other people.” He looked back down into his bag and pulled out what looked like a pen. As he rested it on his stomach I realized it was a straw with its end cut off and sharpened. With his other arm he pressed it against his stomach. Again I didn’t feel uncomfortable when I realized he didn’t have a hand attached to this other arm. Tucked up against his stomach his wrist shrunk into a wrinkled concave knot. As he spoke he began to grind the straw into it, as if scratching it.
“gotta see my boy, left all my shit at his house, can’t leave your shit when someone is taking care of you. He took me in and provided for me. When they say I can’t see my kid and my world was falling apart, he took me in, can’t just be taken in, take his support, just leave it there.”
“what did you leave with him?”
“you know, my jackets and my bags, I fight with the nigger, you know, but don’t mean I don’t admit to him or any motherfucker that he is my savior. Can’t see my fucking kid? He’s helping me through the hard time. You live alone in the city, it’ll eat you up, no doubt about it.”
“Ha, well at least we’re never alone here.”
“no doubt about it. People ain't going nowhere either. It's always going to be like this. Heaven too. Heaven is full of people. People think they can get to heaven without knowing how to get along with people. They always think of heaven like they going to get in there and everyone is going to do and be what you want. Heaven is crowded, ain’t no doubt about it, every person who’s down here goes up there, everyone gets God’s grace. where you think they’re going, to their own heaven? You gotta deal with other fucking people’s problems too, it’s God who provides for you up there, ain’t mean you don’t have to see his other children too”
“Yeah, hell is other people”
“yeah you know that’s right. you know you might get your salvation for yourself, you might get saved, but that don’t make no difference when you can’t get along with nobody up in paradise. You can’t have no peace if you can’t support others, God ain’t forsaken you, God has no orphans, don’t mean you ain’t your brothers keeper, don’t mean when you’re walking in heaven you aren’t going to pass other people on the street and those people are still going to be alive.”
He pulled a baggy out of the bag and tucked it under his chin.
“yo man, close my bag.”
“Sure” I stood up and without looking to much either at him or inside the bag, I tugged the zipper closed. With the baggy still tucked under his chin he took the sharpened straw and scooped cocaine onto its tip. He held it up to his gleaming nose, inhaling without a sound. After this series of motions he rested everything back on his stomach and began to smile again.
“I see heaven in the morning. Before the sun is too high. Don’t matter what time of year, it could be cold out, it could middle of the summer, when you see someone in the beginning of the day, right in the beginning, it looks like heaven is going to be, crowded but everyone just got there.”
“huh, that’s interesting.”
“ain’t that how you dream and see heaven?”
“I don’t know”
“what do you mean you don’t know?”
“I just haven’t thought of how it would look like, you’re right, there will be lots of people there.”
“you gottta think more then.”
He repeated the awkward sequence of inhaling cocaine from his straw. Then he rubbed the corner of his puckered wrist against his eyelid.
For a short while we sat in silence as I pretended to read my book.
Comments