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Show Go Love/119 Shawn Terrence Lord, I watched O.W. get out of bed on a hot-hot night, walk out to the cages under a starry sky and just stand there, long arms at his side. It was real hot-the air-conditioner was out and O.W walked outside I already lay under the pecan. Mama was off drinking coconut drinks on the beach with Lord, though we didn't know that then. Through the barbed wire, across the lime field, was the red barn where the head dance instructor for Millv's House of Tap sometimes met me, draped in a horse blanket. In heat like that, the Goff boy's cottontails squealed, an sound like wind whistling a hole. As far as O W. knew, he was alone in the universe, under the night sky, Mama off her lover, though he maybe didn't know that. O.W. reached in and took the white buck by its hind paws Anything could happen on Willy Ray Street where the dance teacher-naked under her horse blanket-was to meet me in the barn below the lime field. The white gate would creak open and the horse blanket would slide down her long dancer's legs O.W. bent over, sat the bunny down on the sweet grass, and I watched him with my own eyes, bend over and stroke the thing's back, shew it away with a backhand, so the white shape glided across the yard past me, through the barbed wire fence and down into the limefield, past the barn toward Harlan Bottoms and the strawberry fields where the pickers lay sleeping under the stars. The air's on. Trace lets the door shut. Behind us, that suck-sound that closing makes. Lara says, "It's dark in here." She's right-light's no good for a lupus patient, so every last window in the house has been covered with aluminum foil, and that covered with pull-blinds "He's here " Trace says it, brings me home. |