With a peaceful rain

In the blackest night

The moon called my name,

Pierced my dreaming sight.

A dazzling frenzy swept me afar

But that night, there were no stars.

I found myself

Sitting in a chair in a hospital room

No view from the seat

A heartbeat by the broom.

A waiting room, I remember,

It was ‘round about noon

Or three

When this man walked up to me

Told me to keep my seat

No smiles

Just to put a warm hand on my knee

So I just sit and just be

Listening attentively to the sting of bees and

The cringe of leaves

In the pit of Hell

Cold fire waxing on my dreams.

No peace. Give me rest

Or a nest for my tainted heart

Under massive attack

No longer pumps red, now black.

I want to run fast away to a place

To find an embrace

That erases the pain

Of this new emptiness; the space

The darkness. The void that I can’t avoid

Creeping through my spine and down my black neck, crack!

Check or inspect just to see if it’s wrecked

A car, breeze, let me leave.

Escape from this bare, black, bleak reality

To a galaxy far, far away where I can just be, me.

But I can’t ‘cause I’m sinking I’m freaking

I’m Knocking Out. Deep inside this grey,

Almost black chasm of my belly

Like jelly, I lose all my form

And drown in a watery sea scorned with

Rivers falling from my eyes of strain

And sighs of pain

Sweating bullets, rivers of rain

Drip drops of insanity’s name

Crying to God to send more pain

‘Cause there’s no more pleasure in these streets

Only a pool of sin, an ocean of defeat

Washed up on a beach of nails, bleeding tears through my feet.

I lost a piece of me

On the inside.

It died.

So I cried!

Cried out loud to the stormy sky,

“Eli, Eli, lama sabachthani?”

Strike me down with white thunder

Straight through my black eye.

Then it hit me, this curse

Never felt a pain much worse.

It hurts.

Soothe me like the billows roll,

Tossed and driven,

Covered, like a blanket’s soul

That I lost, or gained

Midnight in the rain

When my grandfather left me

Never to see me again.

His name, that’s what I heard

In the waiting room without a view

Around about noon.

Or three, when I hope to see

Him

If I die soon.

I read an article once that said something about the size of the famous star Betelgeuse. If Betelgeuse were the size of Wembley Stadium in London (or Cowboys Stadium in Arlington), then our Sun would be the size of an orange. Thus, Earth would be slightly smaller than a pearl and humans would be…well, quite insignificant. Maybe the size of a cell? A mitochondrion? Yeah. Think about it. If you stare out into the Great Beyond, you see billions of stars, each with the potential for a solar system with orbiting planets with the potential to support life.  I am a Christian, but I am not naive enough to believe we are alone in this universe.  Humans may be unique, but there’s life out there somewhere. Trust me.

When I lived in Texas, I would drive out into the rice fields west of Beaumont in the brisk early morning, or late at night, and just gaze out at God’s creation. On a clear, still night, you can see the broad curve of the Earth. It’s transfixing. The stars, oh the billions of stars in eyesight. Amazing. Now that I’m in Boston, I can’t enjoy the night sky like I used to. But I can still imagine, right? I wrote this while looking up at the night sky the other night…

Golden Venus,

More beautiful than stars

Blue Earth, so full of apes

The engineer of a red Mars

Pluto is like a planet

Locked up behind bars

For gazing at Jupiter

Bruised like a lion king with scars

Deep blue Neptune

Sailing the seas of space afar

To catch a speedy Mercury

Hair raising the silver bar

Oh, bright Uranus

Your dark mystery endures

While surreal Saturn spins

In perpetual circles

The majestic and fiery Sun,

Blazes royally like purple.

I’ve just come back from seeing Red Tails. For those of you living under rocks and such, Red Tails is a new film depicting the honorable legacy of the Tuskegee Airmen by Mr. Skywalker himself – George Lucas. Well, I should say it attempts to depict their legacy. The film is little more than a glorified documentary that at times feels like sitting in a showing of The Return of the Jedi. It broadly scans and generalizes the lives of some of the men of the 332nd Fighter Group. It also generalizes African American soldiers. I suppose this is in attempt to dichotomize the characterization of them versus bigoted white soldiers in the film.

Anywho, the story suffers from several things – unrealistic plot, bland, cliche dialogue, poor cinematography.  I suppose you can’t ask for too much when you’ve got writers from Undercover Brother and The Boondocks on the script. In some regards, the film would’ve done better by narrating the experience of one character, rather than panning over several. In doing the latter, the only thing Lucas accomplishes is establishing flat archetypal characters. These are a brigade of black soldiers who value experience over education (channeling Booker T. Washington), are antsy to prove themselves to the oppressing white American society (and army), and are head-over-heels for white women who don’t speak English. I’ll love reading what pro-black scholars have to say about this weak characterization from Lucas.  Either he ran out of juice, or he’s leaving all of his creativity to beefing up characters for the next animated Jar-Jar Binks. Come on, George.

You have one, Capt. Easy Martin (Nate Parker of The Great Debaters), who serves as the team leader. Of course, he is the most level headed of the black pilots, but is a light-skinned drunk. We don’t know much about him other than the fact that he’s a college graduate trying to prove himself to his father. We see him as the self-reflective “suck-up” to the bosses, whose internal struggles seem to outweigh those of any character. But they’re never fully fleshed out in the film. There’s a lot of potential in his character that we just don’t see fulfilled. His contrasting relationships with Joe and Junior are points of interest.

Then you have Lt. Joe Little (David Oyelowo), a hot-headed, dark-skinned, white-women lover. Spike Lee would’ve had a field day with this one. Of course, Joe spots the fair and lovely Sophia (played by Portugese actress Daniela Ruah) atop a roof from is plane and it’s instantly love at first sight. And of course, she doesn’t speak English and he doesn’t speak Italian – deaf love. What it says is that Italian women love dark black men, and American soldiers and black men love white women. It even goes so far as to say that the don’t need to communicate to love each other, they just need to fall in love with the appearance of love. What struck me is that there’s no racial struggle for the interracial whirlwind. Yes, Europe is more accepting of blacks, but there is absolutely no struggle for racial acceptance with the two of them in this film. Their only two obstacles are language barrier and the fact that Joe is a solider. His inevitable death strikes out the option for them to live happily ever after, as does the conundrum of having to eventually return to and be accepted by American society. Hot shot Joe has to die, and in valiant fashion. But we all know that’s going to happen from the first ten minutes of the film.

Then there are all of the characteristic sidekicks – other fighter pilots in the 332nd (including Smokey, played by singer Ne-Yo) – who rudely display the entire spectrum of black male ignorance and chitlin’ circuit dialogue, all seeking to either follow orders or “go for the glory.”  Save the young “Junior,” who spent two years at Howard U, with big dreams of fighting for is country in the air. His emasculation, or excommunication from the Airmen is derived from his inexperience, frailty, and capture by German forces midway through the film, leaving room for the awaited glory of Joe Little. He get’s no funeral or memorial. He’s not yet a man, so Junior is forgotten. It isn’t until Joe’s death (for which there is a memorial) at the film’s closing that Junior returns from exile (or assumed death).  There are absolutely no surprises in the film. We all know what’s going to happen from the opening scene. I’m about to get a little academic, so let me switch gears.

The one character who holds firm throughout is Terrance Howard’s Colonel AJ Bullard. His short, powerful dialogue comes in at precisely the right moments of the film – those moments when you’re about to get up and walk out of the movie. Just as Howard’s lines carried the audience, his character carried the Airmen from point A to C in about two hours. Furthermore, it’s obvious that he makes up for a lackluster Cuba Gooding Jr, who only contributes a series of hi signature smiles and a Popeye smoke pipe to the film. Apart from that, he only serves as publicity for the film to get white viewers, accustomed to his formalities, in theater seats. If being consistent with his contribution to the film, his name shouldn’t even be on the headline. Howard’s presence as the “man-in-charge” is as pervasive as it is compelling. He is downright vicious and strikes fear into all the other characters. No one, not even the white General of the US Army can supplant him. However, his presence is only made more overbearing by the lack of supporting characters. Thus the entire movie is carried on his back. We feel your pain, Terrance.

So here’s a note George. We all don’t care about white women and proving ourselves to whites, neither did people in that time period. Second, stick to films about people and lands far, far away. Depicting real events is not your strong suit – your brain and vision is entirely too extraterrestrial. Cheap cinematography tricks are dated, like your  films, and only work in movies about aliens on Tatooine. Maybe you should call up James Cameron next time. Next time you want to go out and make movies about historical events and people who look like you, do like you did with Indiana Jones, and get someone else to direct. Maybe Tyler Perry could make it a nice melodrama, you know, add some gospel, suspense, and wife-beating. Wouldn’t that be the ‘authentic black male’ stereotype you were aiming for?  Or maybe Spike Lee could add some authentic racial drama to the mix. Think of it as Jungle Fever in WWII fighter jets. Then again, his Miracle at St. Anna wasn’t much to remember. If I ever had the balls to buy both films, they would sit side by side in on my shelf, collecting dust.

Until that day, I’ll settle for HBO’s The Tuskegee Airmen (starring Cuba) and Hart’s War (with Howard). Certainly, the real Tuskegee Airmen would be a little more pleased with those.

What are some of your favorite quotes and sayings from this man? What are some of your favorite speeches and writings? What have you learned? Has the dream been realized? Where do we go from here? (comment below)

Part of my favorite speech: 

One of my favorite quotes: ”Nothing in the world is more dangerous than sincere ignorance and conscientious stupidity.”

A song for you to reflect on, with lyrics taken from the words of Dr. King, Dr. Howard Thurman (whom King developed his theology from), and Dr. Benjamin Elijah Mays (whom King developed his conscience from): 

Straight to your heart those arrows do point down

He struck me hard, twice, but I dare not frown

For soon I met an angel, then wrote this:

I dreamt, that day, that I would steal a kiss

Into sweet lips, like in the sea, I drown;

Entranced by gorgeous jewels, honey brown

Her eyes amaze me, this they do persist.

But speak to her, I know I never will

My tongue, in her presence, becomes like clay

Thus fear of rejection doth plague me still.

But if I had my chance with her I’d say:

And ‘til my life ceases to be

My heart is hers if hers with me.

One morning as Percy prepared his usual breakfast, the phone rang.  The lack of Eve’s substantial income afforded him little more than cereal, milk, and toast – Percy’s version of breakfast, lunch, and dinner.  The familiar voice of the interviewer apologized from the other end of the line. Percy’s smile soon turned solemn. Three minutes after the man hung up, Percy was still holding the phone tightly.

He didn’t know whether to throw the phone against the wall or scream out in anger. Every muscle in his body, every impulse in his brain wanted to break something.  He thought about the things the man said to him over the phone. In a moment of violent rage, Percy eyed a Bible, grabbed his heavy cereal bowl and sent it flying like a saucer across the kitchen. Surprisingly, he missed the gigantic floor-to-ceiling window.  He nearly knocked over his beloved plasma television aiming for the Bible.  Exaggerated images of poverty flashed before his eyes.

He sank down to the floor in agony.  Tears refused to fall from his eyes.  On his knees, he let out a long whimper. Once, twice, five times, he pounded the floor. He willfully snapped at his neighbor who knocked on the door to ask if he was alright. She conveniently cursed at him under her breath.

“It was that guy. That weird guy. He did this to me,” Percy screamed to the sky.

“Who me?” came a man’s voice from behind.

Percy recognized the voice.  He turned to face Ralph who was stretched out on the couch, attempting to tune his three-stringed violin. Ralph’s beard was freshly shaven.  He wore an oversized blue blazer and khaki slacks.  With a leaner figure, Ralph seemed about ten years younger than the last time they met.  His dark skin was illuminated by the light of the morning sun that pierced through nearby high-rises.

“Yes you,” Percy explained, “You did this. First you lured my girlfriend away and now you’re trying to make me even more miserable.”

Ralph smirked and began playing an awful tune on his violin. His big silver ring got in the way of his violin bow.

“What in the Hell are you smiling for? You just made me lose out on a great job. Don’t you understand how that feels? That was a Fortune five hundred company, Ralph! Ninety grand a year, plus bonuses! Do you know what that means?”

“No and yes. You should really learn the violin. It’s an astounding human invention.”

Percy shook his head in disbelief and tuned Ralph out completely.

“No, I didn’t do this or anything else to you. You did ll that yourself.  And yes, I do know how it feels.  I used to be a… Never mind,” Ralph reached down to help Percy off the floor, “Let me help you up.”

Percy pushed him away. “I told you before. I don’t need your help.  I can stand on my own two feet.”

“All right then. Suit yourself.”

Percy stood and gazed over at the couch. Ralph was gone. He peeked outside his door again. Hallways empty. Bedrooms empty. Kitchen empty. Bathroom empty. Nothing.

The old violin was still there, laying on the table. Percy grabbed it and threw it out of the window. Six seconds later, he heard it splash into the Chicago River.

Percy felt a migraine coming and walked back to the kitchen. He sighed at the relief of seeing the tequila that Eve had left in the cabinet.  By the end of the night, the bottle sat empty on the counter beside a pair of dark beer bottles.  After heading to a nearby bar, Percy decided to bring home the imaginary bartender he’d started up a conversation with. He didn’t get very far down the road before being cornered by a police officer. The next thing he knew, Percy was waking up on the cold floor of a jail cell at the police headquarters.

“What in the Hell?” he spoke out to an empty space. He grabbed his pulsating head and tried to focus his blurred vision on the iron bars in front of him.

“No, Hell is much worse than this Percy,” said a familiar voice sitting in the cell near Percy.

“Damn.  Not you again. Where am I?”

“Well Dorothy, you’re certainly not in Kansas anymore,” the voice joked.

“What? Get me out of here.” Percy commanded, still unable to recognize the voice speaking to him, “I can’t be seen like this.”

“Oh, really. So now you want my help. Is that it?”

Percy recognized that raspy baritone though he couldn’t name its owner at the moment.  The liters of stiff alcohol still possessed his mind.

“Forget it,” he resigned, “I deserve to be here.”

“About time you figured that out,” Ralph said.

“You sound different, Ralph.  Are you ok?”

Ralph was silent.

“I’ll just get one of my friends to bail me out.  This is embarrassing.”

“What friends, Percy?”

Percy hesitated to answer.

“My friends. The ones I talk to everyday. You don’t have any friends Mister Whoever you are.  That’s why you spend all day haunting me over and over and over again!”

Percy tried to lift himself up from the floor and stand to face the man but it was no use. His legs felt like jelly one moment and hard clay the next. He struggled loudly as he fell back down.

“Look at you. You’re pathetic. You can’t even stand up,” Ralph said to him, disappointed. “I can’t help someone who can’t even help themselves.”

“Fine then. Go on. I told you once or twice before that I didn’t need your help and it’s gotten me pretty far down the road. So I don’t see why I need you now.” Percy clawed at the floor, trying to reach the iron bars. “You’re the one who got me in this mess. You were probably sleeping with my wife and then used the whole angel thing to cover your tail. Then you tipped off my interviewer. And now you get me drunk and put in jail…”

Ralph quietly shook his head then looked up to the sky.

“So, let me repeat myself. I don’t want your help!” Percy commanded before falling flat on his face again, “Go to Hell.”

Ralph was silent. He closed his eyes.

There was a cold gust of wind.  Percy blinked twice, his vision still blurred.  A hulking inmate was suddenly alone with him in the cell, licking his monstrous lips.  Percy found the strength to raise his self to sit on the bench in the cell.  The inmate paced toward him, muscles bulging, hands open.  He stared mindlessly at the graffiti on the stone wall.

A million thoughts plagued his mind about his job and the numerous women he had seduced.  He regretted landing himself in jail. There’s a first time for everything, he thought. He thought about how he actually had no friends, none except for Eve whom he’d lied to and driven away.  A single tear rolled down his cheek when he imagined his wife and the first time they met. He didn’t put his head down, but instead sat straight up and accepted his fate. He closed his eyes as the tears ran down his face and neck.

“I’m sorry,” were the words he quietly uttered to deaf ears.

Suddenly, a police officer approached with his rattling chain of keys and unlocked the door.  Apparently, someone had paid the bail as Percy was free to go. When asked who the person was, the officer gestured toward a photo of a beautiful young woman in a lingerie magazine. Percy inquired her whereabouts but the officer would not give any more information. Walking out of the police station and into the early morning sunlight, he smiled for the first time in days. He could tell that it had been raining all night and wondered how he should spend his day. He thought about going to church, but shook his head in denial and decided to go home and sleep.

“Mister Harper! Mister Harper!” a young man called breathlessly after Percy as he was leaving the building. “Do you know a woman named Eve…?”

“Yes. I do. What is it?”

“How do I say this…” the man began.

Percy’s stomach tightened immediately.

“…There was a major pileup on Lake Shore Drive.  It’s on television. It doesn’t look good. She just left here about an hour ago. They say that there is at least one casualty. I think you should get down to the hospital right away.”

Percy was short of breath after hearing the devastating news. His legs felt weak and numb. His feet didn’t know whether to collapse or run.

“Do you need a ride?” the man offered, “Come on, I’ll take you.”

Percy said not a word the entire drive there. When they arrived at Northwestern Memorial, the nurses directed him to the emergency room where he was soon stopped by a pair of doctors.

“Are you of any relation to this woman?” one of them asked.

Percy shook his head in nervousness. “I’m Percy Harper. She’s my wife, please let me see her!”

The two doctors looked at each other then turned to Percy. “I think you should take a seat Sir.”

“No. I am not going to take a seat. You’re going to tell me what is going on right now.” Percy demanded.

The doctors sighed before one of them spoke up. “We’re sorry Mister Harper. But your wife was involved in a head-on collision on the highway with a drunk driver. I assure you, we are doing everything…”

Percy drowned out their words with a heavy flood of tears.  All he could think of now was Eve. His brain was etched with visions of her soft gaze and pure skin now mangled at the hands of an insane drunk driver. He found his way down the hall to a bathroom before locking the door and letting all his sorrow out. He cried and vomited and screamed and punched and cursed and kicked. Percy looked at the reflection in the mirror then broke it with a single punch. He fell to the ground in blooded despair.

The locked bathroom door creaked open. A young boy walked in. His skin was as dark as night but his hair was white as snow.  No older than a teenager or any taller than a few feet, the boy was dressed in radiant gold robe that gleamed without the presence of sunlight.  With eyes as grey as a blind man’s and soft hands, he reached out to Percy.  Percy vaguely recognized the square sterling silver ring on his finger. It was the same little shabby silver ring he saw in the store window and on Ralph’s finger a few days before.  However, this time, it shined as bright as a star and the inscription on the band was crystal clear. There was a ring of tiny little diamonds in the ring that Percy knew he couldn’t have missed before. The ring was spectacular.

The young boy opened his mouth to speak and Percy immediately recognized the much more mature, baritone voice as Ralph’s. “You don’t look so good,” he said.

“I know,” Percy replied in shame.

“What are you doing in here?” said Ralph.

“I don’t know. I don’t know. Eve she… she’s…” Percy began.

The boy reached down and touched Percy’s bloody hand. In an instant, the blood dried, the wound closed and his hand was healed.  Percy’s mouth dropped.

“Wait, I thought you – ”

“I never said I didn’t have surprises up my sleeve.”

Percy rubbed his hand. “Why do you look so young Ralph?”

“Because, as time progressed and you denied my help, I got closer to my true appearance.  Soon I will only be an essence.  Angels have no true form or body, as you humans call it. We can take the form of anything or anyone we so chose, dead or living. It’s one of our special powers that I told you about. I just like to be consistent.”

“So you can teleport as well?” Percy asked curiously.

“We can materialize at any time or place we so choose.”

Ralph could see he still had to persuade Percy to believe.

“I see your stubbornness and pride is still in control. Listen, I haven’t got much time left. Make up your mind or I’ll – ”

“You haven’t got much time?”

“Yes. We can only remain on Earth for a specific amount of time. Otherwise, we risk becoming mortal.”

Percy sighed as he stood up. He conceded.

Ralph smiled. “I’m glad you’ve come to your senses. Now what is it that you would like me to assist you with?”

“Eve,” Percy said on the verge of tears, “Save Eve. Bring her back.”

Ralph scratched his head and rubbed his chin.

“Eve isn’t dead yet. She still has about six seconds left of life. Besides, I can’t bring people back from the dead Percy. Only God has that power.”

“God?” Percy snapped, “What God?”

Ralph stood his ground.

“Where was he when I lost my job? Where was God when my mother was in this same hospital? Where was God when Eve got in that car accident? Where is your God now? Where is he Ralph?”

Ralph stared at Percy before relinquishing his gaze.

“I can’t help you if you don’t believe,” he said calmly, “Goodbye, Percy Harper.”

Percy continued to stare at Ralph. He wanted answers.

Ralph turned and quietly walked out of the door.

Percy found that the mirror was still broken and his hand was bloody again. He hid it underneath his jacket and walked down to the waiting room. As soon as he found a chair, two doctors with clipboards paced toward him.

“Excuse me, Mister Harper,” one of them said, “Please, keep your seat. I have some troubling news for you. We did everything we could. But your wife, Eve…”

Someone stuck an oar into Percy’s stomach and churned it six times in the wrong direction.  That’s what it felt like. His brain rejected the doctor’s last words.  He imagined choking the doctor with his long stethoscope.  His good hand trembled with rage and passion.  Percy’s ankles gave way as he collapsed onto his knees.

“I’m deeply sorry Mister Harper,” the other doctor said before they both walked away.

Percy’s eyes were full of tears as he reached out to grab the doctor’s leg. He whined for the doctor to come back, to make things right.  He cried for the doctor to tell him that it was all a joke and Eve was actually going to be fine.  The doctors were long gone by then. Percy fell to the floor which was now full of tears of sorrow and blood from his bruised hand.  Somehow, his shirt had gotten soaked from his hysteria as well.  Still on his knees, Percy gazed at his hands as if they were a mirror into his past.

“I’m sorry,” he sobbed, “God, I’m sorry. This is all my fault. Forgive me.” Tears wouldn’t cease.

Percy looked up at a pair of bare feet standing before him.  He knew it wasn’t there before.  The figure was nearly transparent but he could tell it was a man by how calloused and coarse the toes were.  Percy tried to clear the tears from his eyes.  He reached out to grab the hem of the robe that covered the man’s feet.

“Ralph, that’s not you, is it?” Percy mumbled as he struggled to identify the man’s face.  Somehow, he knew it wasn’t Ralph, but he thought he’d ask anyway.

Percy blinked twice. The figure had vanished.

In an instant, the hospital was gone.  Percy found himself lying on the suede couch in his apartment.  He rubbed his hand, no longer bloody or bruised.  All of the furniture in the ultra modern loft was in its rightful place and the sun shined brightly through the huge window. There was no letter on the glass table.  In its place, Percy noticed a little square silver ring and a busted three-stringed violin nearby.  He picked up the ring and squinted to read its partially weathered inscription. “…God is healing…” was the only thing he could make out.

Percy caught the aroma of food cooking in the kitchen and heard a woman’s voice humming in the distance.  His heart sped up. All Percy wanted to do at that point was jump up and run to the familiar voice.  He smiled wider than a child on Christmas morning. But something kept him nailed to that couch. Something kept him grounded.

He reluctantly reached for the violin. On his lap, he found a single white feather that sparkled in the sunlight. He gazed up at the ceiling and started plucking away at the three violin strings.

1. Teaching “Betelehemu” to my choir students

2. Practicing the Macbeth “dagger” soliloquy with my student

3. Having the most entertaining catch-up conversation with my Morehouse brothers via Twitter

4. Talking to [her]

5. Listening to Smokie Norful’s How I Got Over on Spotify

6. Five minutes of air hockey on the work tables (after hours) with my roommate

7. Having a life chat with my co-worker while walking in the rain to CVS

8. Winning an auction for a new iPod Touch 8GB (white 4th gen) on EBay

9.  Chatting with my Momma (yes, I still call her that)

10. Getting a card in the mail from my grandmother

What made your day?

But he still had Eve.  A popular lingerie model with an addiction to sports cars, Eve was every man’s sinful fantasy.  Percy used to worship her during their college days at Columbia. Once passionate lovers, their marriage became less than a shadow of what it had once been.  Scenes of walking through the park hand-in-hand, sneaking into cinemas, and passionate kisses by the lake seemed ever so distant.  They even went to church together. Once the rumors took wind about his extramarital affairs, Percy and Eve slowly drifted apart. His less than interesting job as a sales manager at a department store on Magnificent Mile was on the decline as well.

On a rainy winter day, not long ago, Percy rushed through the frigid windy streets of downtown Chicago.  He glanced at his watch and realized he was late for another job interview.  He stopped just before arriving at his destination. Something in the window of a jewelry store called Angel’s stole his attention. Never mind the three lavish diamond rings before his eyes, Percy focused on a shabby little silver ring in the center.  There was no gemstone in the thick ring of sterling silver. He squinted to make sense of a weathered inscription etched into the band.

He blinked once as a man strode past in the reflection. The man was dressed in a tweed blazer that hid its original color underneath layers of filth. His attire was complete with a messy top hat of equal brilliance and faded green cowboy boots. The man had skin as dark as the ebony violin case Percy recognized in his left hand. He was a head taller than Percy and took long strides with each step. He smiled casually at Percy, tipped his hat, and kept walking.

Percy broke his stare with the ring and quickly turned around to see the man he had been viewing from a reflection.  He looked left and right. The man was gone.  Percy shook his head and continued to his interview.

“Thank you Mister Harper,” the interviewer said with a warm grin, “I’ll have a word with the board and you’ll be hearing from us very soon.”

Percy proudly exited the building and imagined the look on Eve’s face when he told her the great news.  He hadn’t had a steady job in almost two years since he lost his license. He devised a plan to quit his sales job. The only thing standing in his way was the rush hour traffic.  Percy imagined Eve would be lounging on the suede couch, listening to Oprah’s latest advice or sifting through one of her old lingerie magazines. He thought about her nearly flawless figure and how to seduce her into loving him again. In his mind, it was time to make things right.

The elevator arrived at his lavish loft on the twenty-fourth floor of a high-rise overlooking the Chicago River.  He stuck the key in the door, took a deep breath and pushed it open.  Percy’s heart refused to beat for exactly six seconds.  Other than a glass table, the couch, a chair, and the plasma television, the apartment was completely empty.

More importantly, Eve wasn’t there.

The whole apartment was draped in cold silence.  Percy slipped on the red wine spilled all over the hard wood floor.  There was a letter waiting on the table.  She mentioned the word divorce and ended with “Don’t find me.”

Underneath it was a set of black and white photographs – Percy featuring Jezebel.  He sat down on the couch, pretended that Eve was next to him.  He crossed his arms and put his head down in his lap in shame.  Every tense muscle in his body commanded him to cry, but no tears came.  He was glad no one was around to see him walk into this trap.

“Rough day?” a man’s raspy voice bellowed from beyond the living room.

Percy sat up immediately, startled by the unwelcome presence in his home. “Who the Hell are you? And what are you doing in my house?”

He was about a head taller than Percy with pitch black skin, think peach lips and a kinky white beard.  His face was round and his beer belly protruded from his dirty tweed blazer.  He placed a worn out three-stringed violin down by the foot of the couch.  The man plopped down on the couch.

“Excuse me, where are my manners?” the man calmly said to Percy in his deep southern accent, “May I sit down?”

“No you may not. You have three seconds to tell me who you are and what you’re doing in my house or I’m going to…”

“Calm down, son. Everything’s going to be all right.”

“Calm down!? Listen here. I’m counting to three.  If you’re not out of my house, we’re going to have a serious problem.  One… Two…”

“Just sit down and stop threatening me, Percy.” The man started plucking away at his three-stringed violin.

Percy paused his countdown.

“How did you know my name?” he asked before squinting at the strange man’s face. “Wait, I think I know you.”

“No you don’t,” he replied, with a tone almost as flat as that of his instrument.

“No, I mean, I’ve seen you before – in the window outside the jewelry shop this afternoon. Yea, it was you carrying that messed up violin. You had a big hat.”

“Well looking at a person and knowing a person is two different things, isn’t it Percy? You want to learn how to play it? I promise it’ll help you relax.”

“No. And how do you know my name?”

“Sit down, please.” The man pleaded and stopped playing, “I’ll tell you everything you need to know if you just relax and sit down.”

Percy reluctantly sat on the opposite end of the couch and curiously awaited further instruction. The man reached into his pocket and pulled out a short white cigarette. He picked up Eve’s letter from the table to use as an ashtray.

“You got a light?” the man asked.

Percy hated smoke and noticed the ashes on the letter, but remained silent.

“All right,” the man began after pretending to take a puff from his little drug, “I know you’re upset that I’m in this house of yours, especially at a time like this.”

Percy nodded in agreement.

“Name’s Ralph. I was sent here to help you.”

“Help me with what?”

Ralph chuckled.

“What does that mean?”

Percy scrunched his face after glancing down at a square silver ring on Ralph’s finger.  Though it was dingy, it still managed to glisten in the light. There was a faded inscription on it.

“I’m an angel.”

“A what?” Percy snickered at Ralph’s reply.

“Yes I know, I know.  But it’s not all it’s cracked up to be. Believe me.”

“Okay. So let me get this straight,” Percy’s lips cringed from the urge to laugh, “You’re some sort of an angel named Ralph, who has been sent here from Heaven or whatever to help me?”

“That I am.” Ralph’s tone was anything but cheerful. “I can only assist you if assisting you comes within the boundaries of my powers and abilities.”

Percy refused to believe this man. “So what kind of angel are you? Are you the kind kids read about in Sunday School? I thought you guys were supposed to be all bright and white? Now wait, you’re like a genie right? Do I get three wishes?”

“A genie? I am in all respects an angel of the deity you once knew as God. I was sent by my brother Michael, against my wishes, to help you.  I don’t grant wishes.”

Percy became increasingly disturbed. He hadn’t been to church in ages but he remembered what people used to say about those who pretended to be messengers of God.

“Right. So Michael is your brother, Father Time is your uncle, the Easter Bunny is your cousin, and Santa is your pimp. I must be drunk.  Where are your wings, angel?”

Ralph ran his fingers through his coarse white hair. “Please, call me Ralph and when we go to Earth, we lose certain privileges under certain circumstances. It’s complicated.”

Still unconvinced, Percy demanded, “If you are who you say you are, show me proof.”

Ralph sighed and put his head down.

“What is the problem? I want to see some magic.”

“I cannot perform what you call magic by my own prerogative. It’s more complicated than that.”

Ralph leaned back and placed his faded green cowboy boots on the glass table. “You want to know where your lady friend, what’s her name, ran off to?”

“Yes! I do. Where is she? Where is Eve? What did you do with her?”

Ralph giggled at Percy’s sudden spike in enthusiasm. His entire belly jiggled.  “Can’t tell you all that.”

“What? Why not?”

“Because you don’t believe in me – ”

Percy opened his mouth.

“– What gets me is that you ran her away yourself.  Now you want her back?”

Percy frowned at the implied accusation. His mind fixed on the pictures on the table.

“– All those affairs. All those late nights. You saw the pictures Percy. Didn’t you think she’d jump off of your one man bandwagon before you decided to kick her off yourself?”

Percy choked on his tongue. Ralph laid his cigarette on the table and rose from the couch.

“Look,” Percy said, “I don’t know who you think you are but I think you need to leave. I don’t want or need your help.”

“Well then,” Ralph straightened his blazer and headed for the door, “I don’t want to overstay my welcome. Enjoy your week Percy. In the meantime, I’ll keep a watch over you.”

Ralph grabbed the doorknob. “It was a pleasure.” He nodded then closed the door behind himself.  Percy sat absolutely flabbergasted.  How could this strange man just come and make a fool of him in his own home?  The broken violin was still leaning against the couch.  Percy picked it up and ran toward the door.  Percy looked to the right and to the left. The hallway of his floor was dead silent.  Empty.  He threw the violin out into the hallway and slammed the door shut.

TBC…

Those were her names,

My mind and body craved her presence

Like heroin thick in my veins, the pain

When she left me, broken

Torn 2 pieces of shame apart

Now I need her to be my heroine

The kryptonite of my heart;

This work of art,

A masterpiece to start

Went from sugary sweet to a bittersweet tart

When we were together or

Together apart or

A part of that name

That was “us,” I trust –ed

Insane, whenever I heard her voice, said

It plain to my melting face,

Erase the whisper, keep the tone the same

No lame clean and soft, reflecting the vain

Switch back from black all the way to porcelain plain

In the mirror of vanity, to hide, she became

When I called her Beauty,

But that was never her name.

Yes, this is one of those tell-you-about-my-day blog posts. I just had the best workout! Went to this Boxing gym today. It was great! I feel like a champ. I’m definitely going to go back.  And I was so nervous! But it was cool. Also, today was one of my students’ birthdays.  He turned 17. I took him out to lunch at this burger spot near school. Had some good “guy talk.” He told me about his life pre-high school, particularly how much different his middle school in Boston was from MATCH.  It’s always nice talking to the kids to get a sense of their perspective. He also told me about his relationship history, well some of it. It was cool. Then Afterschool tutorials were actually good today. The kids were actually quiet and working for the entire time. It was so nice and pleasant.  Then I rushed out to hit the gym. Nice day. Just thought I’d share it.

Ice Cubin‘ it.