phone calls. Didn’t answer even one of her letters.
Sticky believed this story because Baby would lower her eyes when she told it. She’d get all quiet and stare at the floor.
Baby stood at the door waving before she left. She did a twirl and waved some more. Mico shook his head and turned to the TV. He pulled a can from the plastic rings. Sticky watched Baby and laughed.
She laughed with Sticky as she waved. Got on one knee and began blowing dramatic kisses.
Don’t I look pretty, Mico?
she said, standing up, resting a hand on her twenty-four-year-old hip and spinning around like a fashion model. Subtly covering her birthmark cheek with her free hand.
Don’t you think I’ll be the prettiest one on
the block?
You probably blowin a big score with all this messin
around,
Mico said.
Baby made a face, and Sticky laughed.
That afternoon Sticky had watched Mico show up with a pickup truck full of his stuff. Watched him take load after load into the apartment and dump it. As Mico brought stuff in, Baby took Sticky’s stuff out of their one bedroom and piled it up next to the TV.
This will be so great for you,
she said as Sticky watched her.
Every boy needs a daddy. Hey, maybe he’ll wanna throw
the football around if you ask him
. She skipped back into the room singing with a B-52 song playing on the clock radio.
In a few minutes she skipped back out with Sticky’s pillow, his two blankets folded.
We’re gonna be a real family
now,
she told him.
Soon as Baby was out the door, Sticky ducked into a corner of the living room and sat with his back against the wall.
He stood up and sat back down again.
Back up and back down.
Back up and back down.
Back up and back down.
Mico looked over and Sticky stopped. They sized each other up for a sec, then Mico tipped his beer and went back to the TV. Sticky went up and down a half dozen more times until it felt right. When he sat for good he wrapped both arms around his knees and spied the room: Mico’s jacket hanging off the kitchen table like a leather waterfall. The bedroom door, closed for the first time ever. Keep Out. Mico kicking his feet up on the table and picking something from his teeth.
Sticky shifted around a bit. He pulled his legs in tighter and rested his chin on his knees.
Why you so quiet, kid?
Mico said. He took a healthy pinch of something out of his black smoke box and started rolling it up like a cigarette.
Come sit up here with me and I’ll show
you how you roll em
. He licked the Zig-Zag and pulled a lighter out of his pocket. Aimed and sucked in. He held the smoke in and talked at the same time.
All the little kids in
your school would be impressed
. He looked at Sticky and let the thick gray smoke snake through his lips.
Sticky looked down and picked at the rug between his feet.
What, you ain’t wanna be the big man on campus?
He pulled in another long drag and held it.
Couple years,
man . . . You gonna start chasin the ladies
.
Mico cracked open a can of beer and scooped up the remote. He blew the smoke through his wide nostrils and took a long swig. Flipped through channels.
Sticky kept his mouth closed. He stared at Mico’s sharp brown face. His nappy black hair down to the shoulders. The green words and pictures scribbled up and down both muscled arms. The way he sank into the couch and rested his beer can between his legs.
Your time’s gonna come,
Mico said, flipping through channels.
Grab one a them little cheerleaders and pull her behind the lockers
. He pulled in a drag and blew it out.
Them’s
the best days of your life, kid. Chasin after the fine girls. Even
the not-so-fine ones
.
Mico laughed and turned his head to look at Sticky.
I was
a equal-opportunity type of dude
.
Sticky watched Mico tilt the can against his mouth again. Watched his lips work the can like a baby with a bottle. The front of his neck driving up and down as he swallowed.
That night, Mico stayed up late watching late-night comics and
I Love
Sticky believed this story because Baby would lower her eyes when she told it. She’d get all quiet and stare at the floor.
Baby stood at the door waving before she left. She did a twirl and waved some more. Mico shook his head and turned to the TV. He pulled a can from the plastic rings. Sticky watched Baby and laughed.
She laughed with Sticky as she waved. Got on one knee and began blowing dramatic kisses.
Don’t I look pretty, Mico?
she said, standing up, resting a hand on her twenty-four-year-old hip and spinning around like a fashion model. Subtly covering her birthmark cheek with her free hand.
Don’t you think I’ll be the prettiest one on
the block?
You probably blowin a big score with all this messin
around,
Mico said.
Baby made a face, and Sticky laughed.
That afternoon Sticky had watched Mico show up with a pickup truck full of his stuff. Watched him take load after load into the apartment and dump it. As Mico brought stuff in, Baby took Sticky’s stuff out of their one bedroom and piled it up next to the TV.
This will be so great for you,
she said as Sticky watched her.
Every boy needs a daddy. Hey, maybe he’ll wanna throw
the football around if you ask him
. She skipped back into the room singing with a B-52 song playing on the clock radio.
In a few minutes she skipped back out with Sticky’s pillow, his two blankets folded.
We’re gonna be a real family
now,
she told him.
Soon as Baby was out the door, Sticky ducked into a corner of the living room and sat with his back against the wall.
He stood up and sat back down again.
Back up and back down.
Back up and back down.
Back up and back down.
Mico looked over and Sticky stopped. They sized each other up for a sec, then Mico tipped his beer and went back to the TV. Sticky went up and down a half dozen more times until it felt right. When he sat for good he wrapped both arms around his knees and spied the room: Mico’s jacket hanging off the kitchen table like a leather waterfall. The bedroom door, closed for the first time ever. Keep Out. Mico kicking his feet up on the table and picking something from his teeth.
Sticky shifted around a bit. He pulled his legs in tighter and rested his chin on his knees.
Why you so quiet, kid?
Mico said. He took a healthy pinch of something out of his black smoke box and started rolling it up like a cigarette.
Come sit up here with me and I’ll show
you how you roll em
. He licked the Zig-Zag and pulled a lighter out of his pocket. Aimed and sucked in. He held the smoke in and talked at the same time.
All the little kids in
your school would be impressed
. He looked at Sticky and let the thick gray smoke snake through his lips.
Sticky looked down and picked at the rug between his feet.
What, you ain’t wanna be the big man on campus?
He pulled in another long drag and held it.
Couple years,
man . . . You gonna start chasin the ladies
.
Mico cracked open a can of beer and scooped up the remote. He blew the smoke through his wide nostrils and took a long swig. Flipped through channels.
Sticky kept his mouth closed. He stared at Mico’s sharp brown face. His nappy black hair down to the shoulders. The green words and pictures scribbled up and down both muscled arms. The way he sank into the couch and rested his beer can between his legs.
Your time’s gonna come,
Mico said, flipping through channels.
Grab one a them little cheerleaders and pull her behind the lockers
. He pulled in a drag and blew it out.
Them’s
the best days of your life, kid. Chasin after the fine girls. Even
the not-so-fine ones
.
Mico laughed and turned his head to look at Sticky.
I was
a equal-opportunity type of dude
.
Sticky watched Mico tilt the can against his mouth again. Watched his lips work the can like a baby with a bottle. The front of his neck driving up and down as he swallowed.
That night, Mico stayed up late watching late-night comics and
I Love
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