Manchild in the Promised Land (64 page)

I said, “Yeah, the yellin' baby.” We both laughed.

“Yeah, Sonny, I'm gonna make some plans to cut this whole thing loose. As a matter of fact, I think I'll cut Ellen loose too, man.”

“Why? She seems to be a nice girl.”

“Yeah, but look at it like this, Sonny, I haven't seen any other women. I haven't seen any other girl outside of Harlem. Man, it would be a drag for me to come up in this place, spend my whole life here, get married here, and never go anywhere. That would be a damn shame, Sonny.

“We got this little thing goin'; she's a nice girl and all that, but I'd feel buried right here, man, if I was to go and do somethin' like that. I come up here, and raise all my kids here, and we'd become some hillbillies, man, or some farmers, the people from the woods. We'd be big-city backwoods people, you know, that don't know nothin' about people, even if they lived on the East Side, in the Bronx, or if they lived out in Brooklyn. That's as far as we would go. Sonny, I get scared when I think of that shit.”

I couldn't say anything, but I was moved because I never thought that Pimp did that much thinking about this sort of thing. It made me
feel good to know that he did and that he had some good thoughts about it. I felt that this was a sign of maturity. I said, “You know, Pimp, I think you're gonna do everything that you want to do, man. I think you can do anything you want to do. There's only one thing that can stop you, and that's shit.”

He said, “Yeah, Sonny, I've been thinking about that too, and to tell you the truth, man, I don't know where it is, man. I don't know just where I am with usin' stuff. I don't think that I'm really dependent on it, but if I stay here in Harlem, I know I'm gonna have somethin', man. And right now stuff gives more peace than anything, Sonny, than anything in the world. I couldn't go to church and pray or any kind of shit like that. I couldn't go to bed with the finest chick. There was nothing else that could do anything for me that stuff does for me, man.”

He said, “I think if I could get out of here, man … I think it's this place, all of it's dead. There's just nothing happenin', man. If you grow up in all this shit, when you get nineteen, there's just nothing else to do. You're through, man. There's just nothin' happening. You've got to find some kind of excitement, something different, or you've just got to keep yourself blind … I mean wasted, man, to take all this damn monotony. Boredom. Day in and day out, man, no place to go but the same damn place, nobody to see but the same old faces you've been seeing all your life. That shit can really get on your nerves. You don't know. You have to get away from it somehow. Stuff was the thing for me. This is the only thing that lets me get away.

“Sonny, you know what? I'm gonna go into this new thing, man. They're suppose to have a six-week program in the Metropolitan Hospital that's dynamic, man, really dynamic. I'm gonna go in and see what's happening. And when I come out, I don't want to be hanging around here for any time. I want to get on the train, man, and shoot right down South and get in school, man, start doin' somethin' with my life.”

I said, “Yeah, like, it sounds good, Pimp. It sounds damn good. You don't know how good it makes me feel to hear you talkin' like that.”

“Yeah, Sonny, I feel as though my mind is clearer, man, than it's been in a long time. For the first time in ages, I'm sayin' the stuff that's really been on my mind.”

Pimp went into Metropolitan Hospital for six weeks. He came out
looking good. I stayed in his corner while he was in there. I sent him money. When he came out, everybody was happy. Mama was excited over how fat he was.

He came out around April or May, and he got a job. We were planning on sending him down South. Reverend James had selected the perfect school for him. He was all set.

In July, he was working in a hospital. They found out why he had been in Metropolitan, and they fired him. After that, Pimp was hanging around the street most of the time, but he still wasn't dabbling, or so I thought.

When August rolled around, Pimp was supposed to go down South. I was supposed to give him two hundred dollars, which was half of his first term's tuition. I was downtown, and I called Sunday night, the day before he was to leave, and asked Mama if Pimp was there. She said he wasn't. I told her, “When he comes in, tell him to meet me at the bank Monday morning.”

Mama said Pimp hadn't been around. He hadn't been home the night before, and she hadn't seen him since early Saturday evening. I said, “He didn't start dabblin' again, did he?” Mama said no not that she knew of. So I said, “Look, there's nothing to worry about; as long as he's straight, he's gonna be home. As long as he's not dabblin', there's no problem.”

Mama said she wished that she could believe there was no problem. I said, “Why? He's probably shackin' up with some chick. There's nothin' to worry about.”

Mama said, “Ellen's been calling him since Saturday evening, and she's called him all day today. She said she hasn't seen him either.”

I said, “Look, Mama, he'll probably be home. There's nothing to worry about. Damn, he's a young man, and he'll be all right.”

She said, “Yeah, well, I sure hope so, but that ain't like Pimp. That boy, he never stay out all day Sunday and miss his Sunday meal.”

“Oh, Mama, come on. He's just growin' up. Maybe he found somebody who could cook better than you.”

I tried to make a joke out of it, but Mama was a little bothered. She wasn't in a mood for jokes. She just said, “Yeah, I hope so,” and she said it in a sort of frightened way.

“I tell you what, Mama. Just tell him to meet me there tomorrow. I know he'll be back. And I'll call first. Hear?” I felt pretty certain that Pimp would be home that night.

The next morning, I got up and went to the bank. I'd forgotten
to call Mama. Instead, I just went to the bank. I'd told Mama to tell Pimp to meet me at nine o'clock. After I'd been there for fifteen minutes, I decided to call Mama to find out whether Pimp was on his way, because the train was supposed to leave at ten-thirty.

I called up, and Mama answered the phone. I said, “Hey, Mama, what happened? Didn't Pimp show up?”

“Lord, child, I ain't seen that boy since he left outta here Saturday evening.”

“Oh, hell, he can't be messin' up now. It's too late.”

She said, “I hope he ain't, but I got some bad feelings. I been sittin' here lookin' out the window, all day yesterday and all night last night. Lord, I sure don't know where that boy could be, but I sure hope ain't nothin' happened to him.”

“Look, Mama, who was he with when he left?'

“He wasn't with nobody. He just went out by himself. The last time I saw him, he was goin' down the avenue by himself.”

I jumped on the subway and went uptown. I started going around to all the different dope dens. I started asking all the junkies around there if they'd seen Pimp. Nobody had seen him. Nobody had seen him since Saturday.

I got kind of scared. I went everyplace I could think of where he might possibly be. I even went to the police station, and they didn't know anything. I called the city morgue, and they didn't have anybody by that name. I called hospitals, and they hadn't taken in anybody by that name over the weekend. It seemed like he had just disappeared.

I didn't know what to do. I gave up the idea of his going away to school that morning. This was just out of the question, and I knew this. I hated to tell Mama that I hadn't found him, but eventually she'd have to know. I just kept looking, even though I knew I wasn't going to find him. I didn't know anyplace else to look.

After about twelve o'clock, I felt as though I had to go back and tell Mama something. I came in and said, “Mama, did you hear from him?”

She had looked hopeful when I walked in, but my question just crushed all her hope. She said, “No, I ain't heard nothin'. You couldn't find him?”

“No, Mama, I couldn't find him. But I found out something.”

“What?”

“I found out he's not in the morgue, and he's not in the hospital, and he's not in jail.”

“Yeah, well, that ain't nothin', because he could be someplace dead, in some backyard, and nobody'd know about it'

“Yeah, Mama, but he don't have to be Look, Mama, I'm gonna look for him again, and I'll check with you before I go to work. If you don't know anything, I'll just go to work, and I'll look for him after I get off. I'll start looking some more.”

I got off that night, and instead of going home, I went uptown and stopped in a bar. I started playing around with a girl friend of Margie's. She asked me if I wanted a drink, and I said, “No, baby, I'm not in the mood for a drink.”

She said, “Did you hear about Pimp?”

I got scared. The phrase just echoed through my head, Oh, Lord, and I started trembling. I said, “Look, Cecilia, I'll take that drink now.”

She said, “Okay, Sonny, what you gonna have?” She called the barmaid.

I said, “Bourbon. Give me hundred-proof bourbon, straight.”

I just dumped it down; I didn't want to taste it. I just wanted a bracer for whatever was to come.

Cecilia got very serious, almost sad. She said, “Oh, well, Sonny, there's … Look, I don't think I ought to tell you anyway. Sonny, are you going up to your mother's?”

I said, “Yeah.”

She said, “She knows it, and she probably knows more about it than I do. So she'll tell you.”

I said, “Look, girl, would you stop playin' with me, and tell me what's on your mind! I don't want to hear that bullshit!”

“Sonny, I'm sorry. I'm sorry I said anything about it.”

“Well, you did. Now go on and tell me.”

“Okay, if that's the way you want it. Pimp is in jail.”

I looked at her, and I could feel myself stop shaking. My body was vibrating, but it was calming down, it was steadying. I grabbed her and held onto her.

She said, “Wow, man, take it easy, will you?”

I guess I was crushing her. I just felt good. More than anything, I needed something to hold on to, and she was the nearest thing.

She said, “Sonny, you better get a hold of yourself, dear. I go with Marty, you know,” Marty was the bartender, a big cat, more like a bouncer than a bartender.

“Yeah, well, I hope Marty's understanding,” and I laughed.

She said, “You don't seem too upset about it, you know.”

“Cecilia, it's not the worst thing that can happen, baby. Look, I'll see you around.”

“Sonny, I'm sorry I had to tell you, but I thought you knew.”

“That's okay, Cecilia. Look, I'll see you around, baby. Thanks a lot. Take it easy.”

I ran across the street, but before I could get upstairs, I saw Louis Howard, Ray, and another old friend Mickey. Mickey was Turk's brother and a friend of Pimp's. Mickey, Lou, and Ray came up to me. Ray had been a counselor up at Wiltwyck. I suppose everybody knew how I felt about Pimp, everybody in the neighborhood anyway. They'd sort of watched me raise him, sort of pull him up by his bootstraps, on the streets. As I came across Eighth Avenue, these three guys were looking at me as though there'd been a wake.

Mickey said, “Sonny, did you hear about Pimp?”

I said, “I heard he was in jail. Cecilia told me. But I don't know what for.”

Mickey said, “I called up to find out about him. We were all looking for him, all day. I went around on Seventh Avenue manhandling some junkies.”

I said, “Yeah, thanks, baby. I asked them politely, and I couldn't get anything out of them.”

Mickey was a pretty big cat. He was almost as big as Turk, and he was known all around the neighborhood for the way he could hit. He'd found out by putting the arm on some junkies. He said, “This junkie told me to call up police headquarters in Brooklyn. I called up, and I asked about Pimp. They said, ‘Yeah, we got somebody here by that name.' They said he was arrested Saturday night.”

I said, “Did you find out what the charge was, man?”

“Yeah, Sonny, it's an A.R., baby.”

I said, “Oh, shit!” I couldn't believe that, because Pimp didn't even have a gun.

Mickey said, “I don't know, Sonny, maybe he was with somebody. I don't know what happened. Maybe he was just an accomplice. All they would tell me was when you could come and see him and that he was going to be arraigned next Monday at the Brooklyn Court of General Sessions.”

I said, “Damn, man. That's terrible!”

Lou said, “Don't take it too hard, Claude. You tried.”

“Yeah, Lou, but I'm not finished trying yet.”

Ray said, “Claude, it just might turn out for the best yet.”

I said, “Ray, do you know what that means, man? That means that he's got a sheet on him. He's got a sheet for the rest of his life. Pimp is nineteen.”

“Yeah, well, it's not the worst thing that could happen.”

I said, “Yeah, he could've been killed. That's a cheerful thought.”

I guess everybody saw that I wasn't in a good mood. They started saying, “Well, I'll see you, Claude. Try not to take it too hard.”

I went on upstairs and told Mama what I'd heard. She said they had already told her about it.

I got to see Pimp about two days later. It was a frightening place. I couldn't even see his face. It was screened and dark. I was wondering if the cops had beat him. But I couldn't see anything. We were talking through a sort of transmitter.

I said, “Damn, man, you really got yourself into some shit, you know.”

He said, “Yeah, well, you know how that is, man. Like you always say, maybe it was in the cards.”

I said, “Yeah, man, maybe it was in the cards.”

“Shit, Sonny, I don't feel too bad about it, man, and I hope you don't, because, well, hell, everybody's got to pay some dues someday, and I guess it's my time to pay.”