fancy dresses and all kinds of undergarment straps, dried-23
up elastics, and buckles. Most of the clothes looked like 24
they could have been for children, but it was just that I 25
had a long line of short people in my family. My parents 26
were only the second generation of big Blakeys. I’m six S 27
foot two. My father was six one.
R 28
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1
I moved all the furniture out of the living room and 2
brought in the loot, piling it in each of the corners ac-3
cording to type. When the job was done, I sat in the wide 4
seat of the bay window to appreciate my labor.
5
I liked hard work. A big pile of stones that need to be 6
moved, a field to plow. What I love is a big job that takes 7
muscle and stick-to-itiveness. I’m not into a lot of details 8
or measuring or comparing. I don’t want to build a steam 9
engine; just give me a sledgehammer or a shovel and I can 10
work all day long, all month if I have to.
11
12
13
“Hello?” The voice came from the front door, which was 14
open. “Mr. Blakey?”
15
I had been asleep. The room around me was dim be-16
cause there was no light on and the sun was setting out-17
side.
18
“Mr. Blakey?” She was tall and thin, brittle looking on 19
first glance. That was probably because she was so tenta-20
tive coming into a stranger’s home.
21
“Over here,” I said. My voice was heavy from sleep, but 22
there was a quality to it that was different. I don’t know if 23
you want to call it musical or assured or maybe mature, 24
like a man.
25
“Charles Blakey?” the tall woman asked.
26
“Yeah. And I guess you’re Narciss Gully.”
27 S
Hearing her name calmed the skittish woman a bit.
28 R
“Oh,” she said. “It was dark and I didn’t know . . .”
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The Man in My Basement
I went to the wall near where she’d entered the room 1
and turned on the light.
2
“. . . didn’t know if something was wrong.” She was 3
brown, mostly dark brown, but here and there it light-4
ened a little, lending a subtle texture to her skin. I imag-5
ined the broad sweep of clouds across the earth from an 6
astronaut’s view. Or maybe it was a parchment, incredibly 7
old and almost erased by age and rain, the slight grada-8
tion of color coming from sepia glyphs whose secrets were 9
now gone.
10
“. . . I mean it was so dark,” she continued, obviously 11
still nervous about coming into a strange man’s house 12
without the proper reception.
13
I didn’t help to relieve her fears, looking her over, think-14
ing strange thoughts about her skin.
15
“. . . and you were just sitting there . . .”
16
“I’ve been working all day pulling stuff out of the cellar 17
because Ricky said you’d come by at eight. I guess I 18
worked so hard that I fell asleep here in the window.” And 19
there it was — the truth. There was no lie in my words, 20
body language, or voice. And again I wondered what had 21
happened. It was almost as if I were in one of my beloved 22
Philip José Farmer fantasies. Like I had gone to sleep in a 23
mundane world and awakened in a fantastical place where 24
the colors were brighter and youth was eternal. It was par-25
tially like that, like some fantasy, but this new world of 26
mine was only subtly different; only my point of view and S 27
clarity of vision had altered.
R 28
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Walter Mosley
1
“Oh,” Narciss said, looking around the large living 2
room. “There’s a lot, isn’t there?”
3
She wasn’t a beautiful woman, except for that skin.
4
Probably my age, give or take. Her face was squarish and 5
the white-rimmed glasses were too big for her features.
6
Her eyes were a muddy color and her fingers were too 7
long it seemed. But when she splayed out those digits to 8
indicate the immensity of the trove I had uncovered, I 9
appreciated their reach.
10
“You think it’s worth anything?”
11
“I can’t tell until I’ve studied it, but it certainly looks in-12
teresting.”
13
“Hey, Charles?” came another voice.
14
“In here, Ricky,” I said.
15
When he came in I was disappointed because he wasn’t 16
carrying a bottle in a bag. Whenever I heard Ricky’s voice, 17
I got the urge to drink. I wondered then how often since 18
we were children that we had been sober together.
19
“Hey, Narciss. How are you?”
20
“Fine, Richard,” she said.
21
“You guys met, huh?”
22
“Yeah, Cat.” Ricky winced when I called him by his 23
nickname. I didn’t use it again that night.
24
Narciss was already down on her knees, looking through 25
the toys. She had on close-fitting khaki trousers with a 26
matching woman’s jacket. She took off the jacket, reveal-27 S
ing a loose black T-shirt. She was dressed for hard work.
28 R
While she worked Ricky and I sat side by side in the 56
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The Man in My Basement
window seat, watching her plow through my family’s ac-1
cumulation of junk.
2
“You wanna go get a shot at Bernie’s?” Ricky asked me.
3
That meant the drinks were on him. That was our code —
4
the man who suggested drinks paid for them.
5
I wanted to go. But I was also interested in everything 6
about Narciss. By then she was sitting in a half-lotus po-7
sition, going over old photographs and letters that my 8
mother kept in a miniature steamer trunk she’d inherited 9
from some aunt or another. With every new letter she 10
clucked her tongue or hummed. I felt like she was a 11
teacher impressed by my homework assignment.
12
Narciss was marking out a history that would probably 13
have captured the interest of historians and anthropolo-14
gists around the nation. But for me there was only her, 15
scrutinizing a pile of refuse that, if it weren’t for her con-16
cern, I would have used to make a bonfire in the back-17
yard.
18
19
20
21
22
23
24
25
26
S 27
R 28
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1
2
3
4
5
8
6
7
8
9
10
11
12
13
14 C
Ricky was fidgety. He wasn’t used to sitting around 15
while others worked.
16
“I saw Clarance last night,” he said.
17
“What’s he have to say?”
18
“Nuthin’. He’s gonna add a rumpus room onto the house 19
this summer. He asked if I could work on it, but I told him 20
that I was already working for Wilson Ryder. I told him 21
you were looking for a job, but he didn’t say anything.”
22
“You don’t have to do me any favors, Ricky,” I said. “I 23