Yellow Back Radio Broke-Down by Ishmael Reed Page A

pants.
    Â 
    What’s in it for me? Sal asked. I mean, you know, what about my piece of the action?
    Â 
    Well there’s a messy part to it, but we got separate bedrooms and I won’t bother you. You don’t have to worry about me and women. I got my Bible and as much Dharmas as the next fellow. Although I do hope you’re warmer when I bang you than the last one who wuz so cold she give one frostbite of the penis as if your prick was on an excursion in Antarctica go in like a normal organ come out a seal haw haw…o igloo pussy—
    Â 
    O.K. O.K. I got yooz, Sal said.
    Â 
    It’s a deal, he said crunching her fingers between his huge hairy hands. I’ll have the little chink show you to your room.
    Â 
    The man came in picked up the baggage and started upstairs. Drag stroked his chin and gave the chinaboy a dollar bill, and pondered the figure shaking its hips as it went up to the second floor of the building.
    Â 
    Strange creatures, women, Drag thought. Well, wonder what’s for chow?
    Â 
    Thunder stabbed the night. Long yellow daggers. It rained on YBR-on the swinepit behind the gallows. Hogs in trench coats. Downstairs of the Big Black House the Dr. was playing poker with Drag Gibson on the eve of his wedding.
    Â 
    Drag I’ve been thinking, you don’t think the Loop Garoo Kid could have anything to do with these strange events —the black cow found with its neck broke this morning? Drag, those were peculiar people—those circus folk. Think they got some tricks up their sleeves, making plans out there beneath the sod where we buried them?
    Â 
    Naw Doc. Coon won’t show his face in this town. We kilt off the injuns and we can take care of anything he has in mind, even if he managed to get across the desert.
    Â 
    Upstairs the door banged violently, the curtains flapped against the walls. Sal attired in a blue negligee, was combing her hair for bed.
    Â 
    I really got ahold of a john this time. Like those old guys in Club Harlem, Atlantic City, drop a dime of their lives just to sniff me. This guy looks like he’s got a weak ticker—if I turn him out a couple of times he’ll kick off and this will be mine. Maybe a little arsenic to ease it along.
    Â 
    She looked in the mirror and saw him and like the hungry balladeer she was she shrieked, Mitt man mitt man where you been so long O mitt man my beautiful darlin. The black-haired beauty’s hand rushed to her jaw.
    Â 
    Loop Garoo moved towards her. Yeah bitch! I thought I told you to stay in the Attic.
    Â 
    Loop baby I just kept bumping into the fairy stone I do declare. A girl can’t go on making one night stands all her life. I tried therapy but the Dr. turned out to be a Democrat. I even tried scientism Loop, gave up Las Vegas steaks, and even the swami tried to fuck me Loop—you know men, only one thing on their minds.
    Â 
    She walked over to the Kid, unbuttoned the diamond solitaires on his buckskin jacket and dug her long sharp fingernails into his chest. She mussed the hair underneath his shirt. The blue negligee became a heap around her ankles. She took his hand and pressed it against her naked buttocks which showed a scar here and there. Her right knee stood out between his legs. She was panting hard.
    Â 
    They caught me Loop. The old man, you know how he is, Loop, the other one just watched—as if the fishermen weren’t bad enough he’s really got a degenerate crew around him now. He does lewd dances and shows off his scars, he uses 12 types of make-up, and the old man he did things to me Loop, I bleed a little—but hold me Loop, don’t be so cold, we can have swell times again like before, you know, sniff airplane glue, make a bee-line to the two reelers, take a spin in the flivver, like, do the things we used to do.
    Â 
    Loop hurled the woman to the floor where she dramatically rolled over.
    Â 
    Honey bunch what did you have to go and do that