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Amos James Jr. · (02-11-2014)

"You ain’t me, boy.”

“Hell naw, you ain’t me.”

“You let the man just take what’s yours an’ he still breathin’? He ain’t been gave up to The Rot yet? You ain’t me at all.”

Them’s the last words I ‘member ‘fore wakin’ up this mornin’. Baron Samedi done came to me in my dream, callin’ me a liar. Maybe he’s right. Maybe Wyatt’s right. Maybe I am just a pretender like they all say. Then again, ain’t like I asked for this belt in the first place. Alls I wanted was to make Papa Eli proud.

He just as mad as Samedi is. He just better at hidin’ it, I guess.

I’m a failure just like daddy always said I’d be.

I straighten out them lines and look at ‘em. They been taunting me from that damn bag ever since I got out.

Daddy used to tell me, “Amos, you too dumb to be stupid.” I ain’t gonna’ sit here and pretend like I knowed what he meant. Daddy wasn’t too bright either, so fuck him. He didn’t want me to grow up like I done. I don’t really know what he wanted, if he even wanted me at all.

It ain’t no matter now one way or the other.

“Do it, boy. Take that hit. Quit tryin’ to act like you some uptown

now and take that hit. You know what a piece of shit you is, just do it.”

I turn around and the voice comin’ from behind me is him. Baron Samedi lookin’ me in the eyes. He got that dusty tophat on and all. That white powder caked on his face showin’ what’s under my mask. His breath fills up my nose and smells like rotted meat.

I turn back to them streaks on the table and snort ‘em one by one. My nose burns and I lean back on the couch in my motel. Baron’s standin’ in front of me now. He laughin’ at me.

“Feels good, don’t it? Ain’t what you wanted, though. Why you doin’ things you say you don’t wanna’ do, boy?”

I don’t say nothin’.

“I tells you why, Amos. It’s because you a bitch. You walkin’ around with that title, not to mention that ‘sobriety’ actin’ like you some high-rollin’ cocksucker…Wyatt was right. You ain’t no man. Both them things got handed to you, and just like you just gave up that sobriety just now, you gone hand that belt over too. It’s alright, though, Amos. That man’s just like you, that Wyatt. You walk in there, I don’t even want you to fight the fight, you hear me, boy? The Rot’ll get ‘em soon enough. You just sit down and let them fight and then lie down like the bitch you are. Let them know they bitches same as you. Let ‘em know the only reason they get anything in this life or the next is because somebody else hands it to ‘em. You hear me, boy?”

My body tingles and I still don’t say shit to Baron Samedi.

"Heh…You just sit there lettin’ The Rot take yo’ mind then. You forgettin’ who you is, Amos. Yo’ life ain’t ya’ own no more. You ‘n’ me is the same. You do what I say, boy. I tells you to lie down, you lie down. I tells you to make the boy bleed, you make him bleed. I’m tellin’ you to lie down. Ain’t like it’d make much difference either way. Wyatt done showed he a better man than you, Amos. Hell, I almost feel like I shoulda’ picked him insteada’ you. Wyatt saw what a bitch you was and he took what he wanted just to show you. Did you see it? I knowed you did. Got you all stirred up, Amos. You went and fought with that man and what did you do? You took back what he stole from ya’, but you didn’t do it alone, did ya’? He mighta’ got you from behind but at least he didn’t have to have somebody else helpin’ him. Know who else gets taken from behind? Ugly bitches, Amos. Ugly bitches. That’s all you is and Wyatt proved that. You just go in there on Monday and you politely give him what’s his. Unless that Linguist guy can beat him, and then he deserves it more than botha’ you cowards.”

I watch him through a haze walkin’ around the room of my motel, sippin’ on a glass of scotch. The smoke from his cigar’s fillin’ coatin’ the walls. There’s a knock at the door.

“House keeping.” The little black lady that comes by ever afternoon to change the sheets.

"You better give her to The Rot today, you pussy. Slit her throat, boy,” Samedi tells me.

I wipe the table clean and brush off my nose, as if it’ll hide anything. I stumble ‘cross the floor as she knocks again, repeatin’ her fuckin’ song about changin’ sheets.

“House keeping.”

I crack the door open.

“I’m good,” I tells her. I ain’t nothin’ even close to good.

“Boy, it’s been 3 weeks since I been in there to clean this room and yo’ shirt is filthy! Just let me in to take care of it.”

I step back and in she comes. Samedi just shakin’ his head in the corner, laughin’ at me. They’s a stain right behind his head. Woman just reaches straight through him like he ain’t even there to wipe it off. He starts movin’ his hips around and lickin’ his lips.

I stare at the floor.

He sneaks up behind me and puts his arm around my shoulder. I jump and the black lady sees it but she don’t pay no mind.

"Do it, Amos. Feed The Rot.”

She straightens the new sheets she just laid down on my bed and walks outta’ my room without sayin’ bye.

"Pussy.” That’s what Samedi calls me, and then he’s gone. Then it’s just me in this room.

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