“Trust me. No one is going to be out on the street in an hour.
Look.”
Izzy looked up to see the sky becoming subsumed in blackness.
People all around were picking up their pace, casting nervous glances
upwards.
“Okay, let’s walk back,” he said.
“We’ll never make it on foot. Look, here comes the bus.” Yak
pulled the boy by the arm.
“I can’t,” the boy said, “I don’t drive.”
“They come with drivers.”
“I mean I don’t trust wheels. I don’t go near them.”
“Don’t tell me you’ve never been in a car,” Yak said.
“Oh sure,” he replied, compulsively lighting up a filterless
cigarette, “The last time was on my sixteenth birthday. We were
leaving the DMV parking lot. I just got my license. My mom and dad
were so proud. I don’t even remember the impact.”
The bus pulled up and braked noisily. The doors opened with a
bang.
“So that’s how I killed my parents.” An exhaled cloud of smoke
drifted upwards from his stained teeth.
There was another bang as the doors of the bus closed and the
driver pulled away.
“We could call a cab,” Yak said.
An animated white guy in dreadlocks sauntered up to them. “Hey
holmes. You wanna buy some grass?” he said.
Izzy grabbed him by the front of his shirt. “Stay off the grass,
asshole!” he screamed, “In fact, stay out of the garden altogether! Get
the fuck out of here!”
The young semi-dread pushed Izzy away and scuttled off. “Man,
this street just ain’t safe anymore,” he complained.
A leather-clad, mulleted behemoth of a man burst out of the strip
joint, peeled off his wraparound shades and barked with eyeballs
agoggle, “Hey! Assholes! I’m Mobius Dick, the owner of this here
establishment. Y’all causin’ trouble?”
Izzy spread his arms wide and said, “Strike me if you must.”
Yak grabbed Izzy’s arm and they headed for home. He hadn’t
realized the extent of the whole thing until now. This was not just
Partment’s tenant. This was his protégé.
ABYSSINIA
158
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