than an adult’s home. If I had laid down and stretched out my 11
arms, I could have touched one wall with the flat of my feet and the 12
opposite one with my fingertips.
13
“Who is he?” Brawly asked his girlfriend.
14
“He’s a friend’a Sam’s,” Clarissa said. “Easy Rawlins, like he said.”
15
“Your mama sent me,” I said.
16
There was a big yellow chair in a corner of the sad little room. I’d 17
been on my feet for over an hour, so I took the opportunity to sit.
18
Brawly remained upright while Clarissa hovered close to him, 19
fearful, I imagined, that he might lose control.
20
“What you doin’ bangin’ on my woman’s door in the middle’a 21
the night?”
22
“Lookin’ for you,” I said.
23
That was a good time to light up a cigarette. It made me feel con-24
fident while relaxing my nerves in the presence of the behemoth 25
John asked me not to harm.
26
“Don’t fuck with me, niggah,” he said. But the words didn’t 27
sound genuine. He was big but he was still playacting, not yet a man 28
in his own right.
29
“Are you the one slaughtered Aldridge Brown?” I asked him.
30 S
“What? . . .”
31 R
“Aldridge Brown,” I said. “Was it you who killed him?”
8 8
REAL PAGES
12374_i-vi_1-314_r4sw.qxd 4/18/2002 2:00 PM Page 89
B A D B O Y B R AW LY B R O W N
Brawly grabbed me by my arms and picked me up out of the 1
chair. He lifted me high enough that the ceiling was no more than 2
an inch from my head.
3
The sense of weightlessness reminded me of when I was a de-4
fenseless child in the grip of some rough adult, yearning for the 5
ground beneath my feet.
6
“What the fuck you talkin’ ’bout?” he said, his voice a full octave 7
higher.
8
“Put me down,” I said without tripping over a single syllable.
9
“Put him down, baby!” Clarissa yelled.
10
“He was killed at Isolda’s house,” I said. “Beat to death at the front 11
door yesterday morning. Ain’t you read the papers?”
12
Brawly let me down gently enough but when he slumped onto 13
that cotton brown couch, it felt as if the floor might collapse. As it 14
was, the whole house shook. I imagined that people were jumping 15
out of their beds, worried that another L.A. earthquake was shaking 16
down the building.
17
“Beat to death?”
18
“Yeah,” I said. “And when I went to talk to Isolda the only story 19
she had was that you and Aldridge had a fight and you left sayin’ that 20
you’d kill him if he ever said your mother’s name again.”
21
“That bitch,” Clarissa hissed.
22
“It’s not true,” Brawly said. “I was with . . . I wasn’t even in town 23
yesterday morning.”
24
He shot a guilty glance at Clarissa, but she was too upset to notice.
25
“You didn’t see Aldridge at Isolda’s house?”
26
“Not yesterday.”
27
“Did you two get drunk and argue a couple’a weeks ago at her 28
house?” I asked.
29
“Couple’a months, yeah. We had a drink or two. The conversa-S 30
tion got a little hot but we ain’t had no fight. If we did, he’d be . . .”
R 31
8 9
REAL PAGES
12374_i-vi_1-314_r4sw.qxd 4/18/2002 2:00 PM Page 90
Wa l t e r M o s l e y
1
Brawly didn’t need to finish that sentence. “I didn’t kill ’im, man. I 2
swear.”
3
“Somebody did,” I said.
4
Brawly sat back, looking more than ever like the child in his 5
mother’s photograph.
6
“He’s dead?” Brawly asked again. “Dead?”
7
“That’s right.”
8
“My father?” he asked of no one in particular.
9
Clarissa perched herself on the armrest of the sofa. She put her 10
arm around his head.
11
“My father, my dad . . .”
12
It was a moving performance. It might have even been real re-13
morse, but I had seen people cry over loved ones they had murdered 14
just hours before. The feelings of pain were there whether or not 15
their hand had delivered the final stroke.
16
I lit up another
arms, I could have touched one wall with the flat of my feet and the 12
opposite one with my fingertips.
13
“Who is he?” Brawly asked his girlfriend.
14
“He’s a friend’a Sam’s,” Clarissa said. “Easy Rawlins, like he said.”
15
“Your mama sent me,” I said.
16
There was a big yellow chair in a corner of the sad little room. I’d 17
been on my feet for over an hour, so I took the opportunity to sit.
18
Brawly remained upright while Clarissa hovered close to him, 19
fearful, I imagined, that he might lose control.
20
“What you doin’ bangin’ on my woman’s door in the middle’a 21
the night?”
22
“Lookin’ for you,” I said.
23
That was a good time to light up a cigarette. It made me feel con-24
fident while relaxing my nerves in the presence of the behemoth 25
John asked me not to harm.
26
“Don’t fuck with me, niggah,” he said. But the words didn’t 27
sound genuine. He was big but he was still playacting, not yet a man 28
in his own right.
29
“Are you the one slaughtered Aldridge Brown?” I asked him.
30 S
“What? . . .”
31 R
“Aldridge Brown,” I said. “Was it you who killed him?”
8 8
REAL PAGES
12374_i-vi_1-314_r4sw.qxd 4/18/2002 2:00 PM Page 89
B A D B O Y B R AW LY B R O W N
Brawly grabbed me by my arms and picked me up out of the 1
chair. He lifted me high enough that the ceiling was no more than 2
an inch from my head.
3
The sense of weightlessness reminded me of when I was a de-4
fenseless child in the grip of some rough adult, yearning for the 5
ground beneath my feet.
6
“What the fuck you talkin’ ’bout?” he said, his voice a full octave 7
higher.
8
“Put me down,” I said without tripping over a single syllable.
9
“Put him down, baby!” Clarissa yelled.
10
“He was killed at Isolda’s house,” I said. “Beat to death at the front 11
door yesterday morning. Ain’t you read the papers?”
12
Brawly let me down gently enough but when he slumped onto 13
that cotton brown couch, it felt as if the floor might collapse. As it 14
was, the whole house shook. I imagined that people were jumping 15
out of their beds, worried that another L.A. earthquake was shaking 16
down the building.
17
“Beat to death?”
18
“Yeah,” I said. “And when I went to talk to Isolda the only story 19
she had was that you and Aldridge had a fight and you left sayin’ that 20
you’d kill him if he ever said your mother’s name again.”
21
“That bitch,” Clarissa hissed.
22
“It’s not true,” Brawly said. “I was with . . . I wasn’t even in town 23
yesterday morning.”
24
He shot a guilty glance at Clarissa, but she was too upset to notice.
25
“You didn’t see Aldridge at Isolda’s house?”
26
“Not yesterday.”
27
“Did you two get drunk and argue a couple’a weeks ago at her 28
house?” I asked.
29
“Couple’a months, yeah. We had a drink or two. The conversa-S 30
tion got a little hot but we ain’t had no fight. If we did, he’d be . . .”
R 31
8 9
REAL PAGES
12374_i-vi_1-314_r4sw.qxd 4/18/2002 2:00 PM Page 90
Wa l t e r M o s l e y
1
Brawly didn’t need to finish that sentence. “I didn’t kill ’im, man. I 2
swear.”
3
“Somebody did,” I said.
4
Brawly sat back, looking more than ever like the child in his 5
mother’s photograph.
6
“He’s dead?” Brawly asked again. “Dead?”
7
“That’s right.”
8
“My father?” he asked of no one in particular.
9
Clarissa perched herself on the armrest of the sofa. She put her 10
arm around his head.
11
“My father, my dad . . .”
12
It was a moving performance. It might have even been real re-13
morse, but I had seen people cry over loved ones they had murdered 14
just hours before. The feelings of pain were there whether or not 15
their hand had delivered the final stroke.
16
I lit up another
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