just
made up." The look Jifar gave him, the in credulousness, the pity, made Snowden fear it was a reflection of his own face moments
before.
"No, lots of people talking about it. Lots of people thinks it's the Chupacabra, not just Mannie Ortiz. Adult people. His
big brother Vernon, he's in the eighth grade, and a boy in his class saw it running around 135th Street station. They shot
at it."
"But they didn't hit it, did they?"
Jifar shrugged a no.
" 'Cause it ain't real. Don't worry about monsters, or anything else. You want to be safe in life? Just stay happy, try not to stay poor when you
grow up, and watch your step, and you'll have nothing to worry about. It's that easy," Snowden told himself as well.
BOBBY FINLEY, POET, ROMANTIC
"I WROTE PIPER a poem," he said.
It had been three months since they'd moved her in. The weeks after were peppered with Bobby's territorial talk about his apologetic
calls to her answering machine, laments that he was never home to receive her call in case she was shy about leaving a message
on his, and then mention of the woman ceased. Snowden knew from this that Piper Goines had never called Bobby back; the thin
man was not the type for quiet victory. So then two months went by and Bobby started up again and Snowden realized he hadn't
conquered his obsession, just his need to talk about it.
"It's totally her poem, too. It's her; I used her actual voice for it."
"Where you get her voice?"
"Off the phone."
"So you've been calling her."
"Oh yes, I told you she gave me her number." By this it should be noted that Bobby meant that he'd taken it off the back of
the Horizon receipt form she'd signed. Snowden had given it to Bobby on his request, as well as a pen and his own back as
a writing surface. Snowden was impressed with the intensity of Bobby's fixation, that not only could he ignore that fact,
he could also ignore that Snowden knew the truth as well.
"Damn, boy. Congratulations. You finally got to talk to that woman."
"Yeah, right? Well, not in person, I left a message. Then I got recordings of her voice off her answering machine, she changes
the message all the time. I just mixed the words together on my computer."
Bobby's contention was that showing up unannounced at her office at the New Holland Herald the next day was not stalking, it was just being practical. He had several reasons for this, the most creative was that if
she received an unsolicited package with a tape inside it, as a reporter she might think it was a lead on a kidnapping, and
he didn't want to disappoint her. By coincidence - one of those amazing coincidences the universe doles out to keep its inhabitants
on their toes — Snowden had been instructed by Lester just the day before to place two ads at this very same paper. This was
less of coincidence when you considered that Bobby had overheard Lester's instructions and apparently planned to tag along
for moral support.
The ads, handwritten in Lester's small linear script along with font instructions, sat in Snowden's breast pocket with the
message:
Folk of Harlem!
Are you considering moving away from the area? Retiring? Going back down south or to the Caribbean? Whether you're a home owner or a renter, contact Horizon Property Management to assist your transition. Cash bonuses for all referrals.
and
Folk of New York!
Coming back to the dream of old Harlem? "Let Horizon Property Management help you make it a reality. Buyers or renters, call now.
Rereading them, Snowden wondered if a white person would get the meaning of "folk" and realize they were being excluded. On
further thought, Snowden wondered when was the last time any white person had gone to a newsstand and bought the New Holland Herald. There was no reason for them to read it. With blacks writing at the top newspapers in the country, with endless glossies devoted
to African-American interests and life, there didn't seem too much reason for black
made up." The look Jifar gave him, the in credulousness, the pity, made Snowden fear it was a reflection of his own face moments
before.
"No, lots of people talking about it. Lots of people thinks it's the Chupacabra, not just Mannie Ortiz. Adult people. His
big brother Vernon, he's in the eighth grade, and a boy in his class saw it running around 135th Street station. They shot
at it."
"But they didn't hit it, did they?"
Jifar shrugged a no.
" 'Cause it ain't real. Don't worry about monsters, or anything else. You want to be safe in life? Just stay happy, try not to stay poor when you
grow up, and watch your step, and you'll have nothing to worry about. It's that easy," Snowden told himself as well.
BOBBY FINLEY, POET, ROMANTIC
"I WROTE PIPER a poem," he said.
It had been three months since they'd moved her in. The weeks after were peppered with Bobby's territorial talk about his apologetic
calls to her answering machine, laments that he was never home to receive her call in case she was shy about leaving a message
on his, and then mention of the woman ceased. Snowden knew from this that Piper Goines had never called Bobby back; the thin
man was not the type for quiet victory. So then two months went by and Bobby started up again and Snowden realized he hadn't
conquered his obsession, just his need to talk about it.
"It's totally her poem, too. It's her; I used her actual voice for it."
"Where you get her voice?"
"Off the phone."
"So you've been calling her."
"Oh yes, I told you she gave me her number." By this it should be noted that Bobby meant that he'd taken it off the back of
the Horizon receipt form she'd signed. Snowden had given it to Bobby on his request, as well as a pen and his own back as
a writing surface. Snowden was impressed with the intensity of Bobby's fixation, that not only could he ignore that fact,
he could also ignore that Snowden knew the truth as well.
"Damn, boy. Congratulations. You finally got to talk to that woman."
"Yeah, right? Well, not in person, I left a message. Then I got recordings of her voice off her answering machine, she changes
the message all the time. I just mixed the words together on my computer."
Bobby's contention was that showing up unannounced at her office at the New Holland Herald the next day was not stalking, it was just being practical. He had several reasons for this, the most creative was that if
she received an unsolicited package with a tape inside it, as a reporter she might think it was a lead on a kidnapping, and
he didn't want to disappoint her. By coincidence - one of those amazing coincidences the universe doles out to keep its inhabitants
on their toes — Snowden had been instructed by Lester just the day before to place two ads at this very same paper. This was
less of coincidence when you considered that Bobby had overheard Lester's instructions and apparently planned to tag along
for moral support.
The ads, handwritten in Lester's small linear script along with font instructions, sat in Snowden's breast pocket with the
message:
Folk of Harlem!
Are you considering moving away from the area? Retiring? Going back down south or to the Caribbean? Whether you're a home owner or a renter, contact Horizon Property Management to assist your transition. Cash bonuses for all referrals.
and
Folk of New York!
Coming back to the dream of old Harlem? "Let Horizon Property Management help you make it a reality. Buyers or renters, call now.
Rereading them, Snowden wondered if a white person would get the meaning of "folk" and realize they were being excluded. On
further thought, Snowden wondered when was the last time any white person had gone to a newsstand and bought the New Holland Herald. There was no reason for them to read it. With blacks writing at the top newspapers in the country, with endless glossies devoted
to African-American interests and life, there didn't seem too much reason for black
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