The Body Box by Lynn Abercrombie Page A

the corner. I shook my head, hoping Vernell wouldn’t notice. The tech got the message, disappeared.
    â€œTalk to me, Vernell,” I said softly.
    â€œBugs.”
    Long silence.
    â€œBugs?”
    Another long silence.
    â€œIt was this dude, see?” Vernell made a big show of thinking, big frown, stroking his face. “We was staying over in East Lake. And the home we was staying at, we was renting from this white dude, Mr. Shively. Now Mr. Shively, he use to come around every Friday, get his rent money, sometimes if you come up a little short, whatnot, you tell him like how it was a drain that was clogged up or the roof leaking, something like that. Tell him until he fix it, you ain’t gone pay no rent.”
    â€œSure. I know how that is.”
    â€œOnly Mr. Shively, he ain’t never do nothing. He ain’t never fix no leak, ain’t never unclog no drain, nothing. He just say, you don’t pay next week—front rent, back rent both—your black ass out on the street. You know how they play you.”
    â€œHey, you got to keep on keeping on.”
    â€œThat’s what I’m saying. But anyway, one time I’m a little short, and so Mr. Shively come around and I’m like, ‘Yo, man, I ain’t paying the rent, we got bugs. We got roaches. We got roaches on the roaches, ticks on the fleas, fleas on the ticks, you know what I’m saying?’ ” But Mr. Shively, he like, ‘That don’t confront me.’ And I’m like, ‘I ain’t paying no rent money till you send the bug man around.’ Right? I’m like, ‘I want some of that Orkin shit, man, or you ain’t seeing no rent money.’ ”
    â€œHoo-hoooo!” I said, playing the appreciative audience.
    Vernell smiled slyly. “I ain’t figure Mr. Shively gone actually do nothing. But two, three days later, this truck roll up, big-ass picture of a roach on the side. Bug man. This white dude, the bug man, he pop out the truck, come in, spray all this shit all over the house.”
    â€œA white man.”
    â€œYeah. Jolly-ass dude. Joking around and everything. Talking to Marquavious, see.”
    â€œBut you didn’t like him, did you?”
    Vernell pulled on his lip. “Truthfully? I ain’t think about it. But like a week later, here come the bug man again. He walk around spraying every damn thing in sight. And when he done, man, he play with Marquavious. Give him candy and everything.”
    â€œCandy, huh?”
    â€œAnd so for like a month or two, this white dude coming around all the time. And that’s when I start getting suspicious.” Vernell was putting on a big show now, all indignation and outrage. “I ain’t like the way he look at Marquavious.”
    â€œSee?” I said. “This is exactly what I was hoping to hear from you.” I figured, let him get wound up talking a bunch of baloney, eventually he might say something damaging, something I could use on him later.
    â€œNext thing I know, Marquavious gone.” A tear slipped out of the corner of Vernell’s eye, a pretty nice touch, I thought, getting so involved in his bullshit story that he’d almost convinced himself it was true.
    â€œTell me about the bug man. What he look like?”
    â€œMedium height. White man. But dark complected. Real dark—for white, I mean. Almost could of been a brother. Like a Jew or a Eye-talian maybe? He run about six foot, maybe a hundred and seventy pounds. You know, normal looking. Brown hair. Always had a big old grin on his face. But it was something about that man I ain’t trust.”
    I nodded earnestly. “Uh-huh. Uh-huh. And this bug man, did you ever tell the detectives about him?”
    Vernell scowled. “I done told the po-lices all about that man. But they ain’t listen.”
    â€œWhat, they say you made him up?”
    Big nod, big outrage. “That’s right! Them two