FIRE RAGES

by Ross Middleton
The Benton family came to live with us after their house burned up because there was
no place for them to go. They came to live with us because of Reverend Kyle. It was his idea
and the guys nothing if not persuasive. I suppose its a good quality in a minister but it gets a bit
annoying at times. The Bentons had to go somewhere because their house was condemned by
the fire. One wall had fallen down completely and the roof was burned up into ash. They werent
dead or injured but they did lose all of their stuff, which I suppose must suck as well.
The day after the fire Dad and I were leaving church after the sermon. Dad doesnt like
to go to church a lot any more, not since Mom and Lil Sis died, but people were talking and he
decided we had to go just to shut them people up. We looked good, Dad and I. We were
dressed in white collared shirts with dark blue blazers. His blazer was pinstripe and mine was
solid blue, the kind of blue you see when you look at the ocean. Dad was lighting up his
cigarette when Reverend Kyle came over, a big smile on his face. The Reverend clutched Dads
handreally grabbed it, shook it around tooand said that he had something special to talk to
us about.
Us? said Dad. You mean both Sammy and me?
Yes sir, Mister Callow. But dont let me keep you. Ill stop by the house tomorrow.
Dad frowned. You cant talk to us now?
The Reverend looked around. Well, Mister Callow, its a bit of ahow do you say
private issue.
Dad looked around at the sea of people leaving the church, all the women in their floppy
hats, all the men in their neat suits. He could feel the invisible eyes looking at him, taste the
sideways glances of the people on his tongue. Dad knew he couldnt say no. So he smiled
grimly and patted the Reverend on the shoulder. Sammy and I will be there tomorrow. Stop by
any time you like.
I dont really like Reverend Kyle. He has been at the church for a year now and most of
the people in our neighborhood seem to love him for some reason or another. Hes been a good
presence in our community, for sure, and he has helped out a lot, from fixing roofs on the
weekend to repairing leaky pipes in peoples basements after mass, his robes wet and soiled
with dirt as his dark hands work nimbly at the old copper. Hes very handy for a priest. But
theres something I cant shake about him, something I dont like. For one thing, its strange that
he calls himself Reverend Kyle. The old minister, Mister Lovett, called himself Reverend Lovett,
and that was alright. Reverend Lovett wasnt really the nicest of priests but he did his job well
and he kept out of peoples business. But Reverend Kyle thinks of himself as a neighbor first,
and a nosy neighbor at that. Also, I dont think the Kyle goes well with the Reverend. He
seems kind of like a kid, or a little puppy, always running at your heels with that big smile on his
face. Hes lighter than my dad, says that his great-granddad comes from Irish stock. My dads
full Nigerian, as was Mom and Lil Sis. Reverend Kyle is part of the new generation of church
people, all hell-bent (ironically) on making the church contemporary and fun. Church never

seemed fun to me: it always seemed dark and serious, the picture of Jesus nailed to the cross,
the sonorous sounds of the preacher. Kyles first sermon was about bringing the church into the
twenty-first century. He talked about apps and cellphones and how they could be used as tools
of salvation rather than agents of the devil, as he put it. Dad and I are in the minority of people
who think Reverend Kyle is a bit strange: everyone else seems to really like him. Maybe
because he wears colorful robes on Sunday, all pink and green and yellow, or because hes
taking care of two kids who had a crack addict as a mother.
Anyway, on Monday Reverend Kyle showed up at the door and I let him in. He was
wearing his usual black robes, a ring on each finger. I wondered where he got the money for all
those rings. His glasses had thick black frames and his beard and afro were well-trimmed. He
gave me a big smile and shook my hand. How are you doing, Sammy?
Doing alright.
Hows school going? What do you think of the new Crusader Program? Would you
want to possibly join one day? The Crusader Program was something new that Reverend Kyle
had implemented. Basically it was a bunch of young guys and girls, around my age, who were
crazy about Jesus. They wore red blazers and went from door to door singing hymns and selling
bibles. Whenever Dad heard them he walked right past the door and into the basement, where
he would work on his table or maybe the new chair for a few hours until they were certainly
gone.
I shook my head. Sorry, Reverend. Schools got me pretty busy as it is.
Please, just call me Kyle, Sammy.
Okay.
We sat down around the coffee table. In time I heard Dad come up the stairs, his heavy
boots pounding the wooden slats. He walked into the room and looked at me and Reverend Kyle
respectively. Then he sat down in the green armchair and sipped at his mason jar of iced tea,
which he always kept filled and at the ready. Dad leaned forward and looked at Reverend Kyle.
So, Reverend, whats this all about?
Well, youve heard about the recent tenement fire down on 95th.
Yeah. Terrible thing.
Yes, of course. And the worse thing about it is that it has affected two members of our
parish. The Bentons. Do you know them?
Dad frowned. Not personally, no. I see them in church sometimes. Theyre the white
folks, right?
Reverend Kyle laughed nervously. Ha, yes. The Bentons are, as you put it, the only
Caucasian members of our congregation. Theyve recently moved into Harlem. Theyre a young
couple with a child, Ruby, thats only three years younger than Sammy here.
Okay. So what does this have to do with us?
Reverend Kyle patted his knees and sighed. Well, they need a place to stay. And I was
hoping they could stay here with you two. If thats alright of courseI wouldnt want to impose.
We all stared at each other for a while. Then Dad said, How long?
Oh, not long at all. Only three days. Five at most. We have temporary housing for them

in the church.
Dad wrung his hands together. Thatll be fine, he said.
There was silence in the room for a little while. Then Reverend Kyle got up, coughed and
said, Well, I best be leaving. Ive got a Crusader meeting to attend. Evening, you two. Then
he put on his jacket and briskly walked out the door
After he had gone, Dad and I sat there quietly because we didnt know what had just
happened and we didnt know what we should do either. Should we be nice to these white
people or would that bring off the wrong impression, that they were welcome to stay for longer?
But the reverse, hostility towards this family, seemed cruel. Not knowing what to do Dad and I
did the usual thing: he went back into the basement and I sat on the couch and did homework.
Could we put them in Mom and Dads bedroom? Dad never slept there anymore,
preferring the warmth and solidarity of his cot in the basement to that bedroom with so many
memories of Mom nestled in its nooks and crannies. We did have another cotwe could bring
that down for Rubybut Lil Siss room was empty too. Ruby could always sleep in there, if she
liked.
The other reason I was sort of nervous about the Bentons moving in with us was that I
felt I had freaked Ruby out the first time I had met her. They moved into our neighborhood about
six months ago and showed up at church soon after that. One Sunday morning during the
sermon Reverend Kyle made them stand up and introduce themselves to the congregation. Mr.
Benton was tall and bald with thick glasses and tattoos down his arms. He was skinny too, like
he was sick or something. Mrs. Benton was a nice blonde lady. She was wearing a pink dress
that day and when she smiled her teeth were all straight and beautifully white. Ruby, the
teenager, stared down the whole time, chewing at some gum with her hands firmly at her side.
After the service I saw Ruby standing all by herself at the corner of the street, and although it
was kind of strange for me to up and talk to a stranger I decided to go over and see how she
was doing. Ive been trying to become a better person ever since Mom and Lil Sis went
because I read that that sort of thing often turns people cold and nasty. Thats what happened
to Grandma, in any case: after Mom died and Lil Sis right after she locked herself in her house
and still refuses to come out. Dad and I throw groceries through the window every week but it
doesnt help. But if you make sure you dont start slipping that way you can turn in the other
direction and be fine, like Dad and I.
So I saw Ruby standing at the street corner and went up to say hello. She was wearing a
red jacket and a green shirt. Her jeans were all ripped and I didnt know whether that was a
fashion statement or a sign that her family wasnt doing so well. She was chewing that same
bubble gum she had had in church and as I walked up she blew a big pink bubble with it. I
walked up close to her and said, Hi. Youre Ruby, right? Im Sam, Sam Callow.
She turned without smiling and shook my hand and I noticed that her hand was very
warm, even though it was about forty degrees outside and she wasnt wearing gloves, and also
soft. She was a small girl, the top of her head in level with my Adams apple. I suppose I was a
bit unsettled by her touch and her demeanorin the short time I had seen her a smile had never
broken out on her face, not even a fake polite one that Reverend Kyle was so adept at using

because instead of saying something nice I said, What are you doing here in Harlem?. I
meant it in a nice way, not like I was suspicious or angry or anything like that, but I know she
took it the wrong way because she looked at me with her blank face and said, Well, what are
you doing here in Harlem?. And I said, Well, Ive always lived here and my familys always
lived here but you guys could have gone anywhere so I was just wondering why you picked
here. Why? she said. Why not? Its not like only black people have to live here, right?.
Well, no I began to say but she walked away from me before I could say anything and
rejoined her parents back in the crowd of people leaving the church. That was the extent of my
relationship with the Bentons and now they were coming to live with Dad and I.
I was born and raised in Harlem. I thought I would move away at some pointthat does happen
from time to time, people get rich somehow and move to the Upper West Side or they go to a
different city like Boston or Detroitbut it never happened so here I am with Dad. Its not that I
want to live somewhere else really. Harlem is a good place, despite the reputation, and every
place has its good and its bad and sometimes you just have to take the lumps every once and a
while. Being black and smart definitely helps in Harlem. The drug dealers leave you alone for
the most part and I work at Columbias bookstore when Im there for the school year so I can
make some good money on the side to pay for food and medicine for Dads bad knee. Dad also
comes from Harlem and we live in the house he grew up in. We didnt always used to live in his
housewhen I was a kid we lived in Moms house, with her sister Jackie and Grandma. But
after Mom and Lil Sis went Jackie moved up to Boston and Grandma went mad with grief and
both of them wanted nothing to do with us anymore. So Dad sold the house and we moved back
into his old place, the one he had when he and Mom were still dating.
This isnt nice but Im going to say it anyway. When I was a kid we used to drive down to
the Upper East Side, sometimes all the way to Times Square, and me and Lil Sis would make
fun of all the white people. Wed stare at their pale skin and fat bodies and wed call them
names like crackers and honkies, names we learned from Grandma. Dad and Mom would
laugh from the front seat and every time Dad laughed (he rarely laughed: he was serious even
before Mom died) Lil Sis and I would look at each other, excited looks on her faces. It wasnt
until I was older that I realized how mean this was, how these people would have felt if we had
called them these names to their faces.
But nevertheless, even though werent hurting anybody directly, I felt guilty about my
attitude towards white people and I guess one of the reasons I didnt resist the arrival of the
Bentons was that I thought it might serve as a sort of apology to the things I had said as a kid.
So I put fresh sheets on the beds in the master bedroom (Dad wouldnt do ithe hates going
into that room) and then I went into Lil Siss room to do the same. I dont often go into her
room. Its not a shrine or anything although its been left the same way as it was the day she
died. I do vacuum in there once a week although its pretty clean anyway. I cleaned the desk
where Lil Sis did her homework, moved all of her cheerleading trophies into the closet. I looked
at the dresser for a while and wondered if Ruby wanted some new clothes, if she had any after
the fire. But I decided not to: Ruby didnt seem like the type to wear dresses anyway.

The Bentons arrived around five oclock and they seemed ready for dinner. I showed them all
their rooms (Dad was downstairs working on something). Ruby seemed unimpressed with her
room but Mr. and Mrs. Benton seemed grateful, if tired. I left them to settle in, which didnt take
too long because most of their stuff was gone anyway and by six they were sitting in the living
room looking bored and hungry. Mr. Benton had turned on the TV and put the hockey game on. I
thought about asking him which team he supportedhe seemed to like the Islanders, at any
ratebut I didnt know too much about hockey so I went into the kitchen and worked on some
food.
When the Bentons pulled up to the curb Dad had disappeared down into the basement
to do his woodworking. Dad makes chairs and tables and sells them on the internet, on the
website, callowchairs.com. I tend to stay away from it. I was disappointed by Dads defection but
I wasnt really surprised. He rarely interacts with people anymore. He worked for about fifty
years as a mechanic and was pretty good at it but he didnt really like it too much and when he
retired five years ago he said he wasnt going to talk to anybody he didnt want to talk to ever
again. Apparently this didnt include me, but it wasnt like we had a lot of conversation as a
result. Dad and I had always communicated sparingly and at first I just thought that was the way
fathers and sons interacted. But lately Ive seen other kids be extremely vocal with their dads.
So I dont know. Maybe hell talk to me about how hes feeling one of these days but I doubt it.
So there they were in the living room, watching the hockey game. Sporadically Mr.
Benton would smile or frown based on how the game was going. Mrs. Benton was wearing
sunglasses and a pink tracksuit for some reason and was becoming one with the sofa. She
snored gently, her blonde hair flowing over her shoulders. Ruby was cross-legged on the floor,
texting away and giving me occasional dirty looks. Only Mr. Benton was watching TV. His face
settled into a frown as the Islanders lost 3-2 and he turned the TV over to the news.
I stood in the doorway for a moment and after a long awkward silence I coughed and
said, Uh, would you guys like something to eat?
Mr. Benton turned around slowly. Yes, Mr. Callow. Were very hungry, in fact. He
laughed awkwardly. Ive been working all day and itd be good to get some grub in me. What
do you think, Ruby?
Whatever, Ruby replied.
Mr. Benton frowned again and looked back at me. What did you have in mind?
I thought for a moment. As I thought about what to cook them Mrs. Benton rolled off the
couch and went outside. Mr. Benton looked like he was going to say something but Mrs. Benton
shot him a look almost as dark as Rubys and proceeded to walk out the door.
Mr. Benton looked back at me and smiled nervously. My wife, she, ah, smokes
cigarettes. Shes been trying to quit but in this time His voice faltered and I realized this was
my cue to talk.
No worries, Mr. Benton. My dad smokes too.
Oh, does he?
Yeah. Been doing it since he was a kid. Doesnt do it a lot anymore but he still does

from time to time.

Right.
There was another deep silence in the room. Then I said, Would you guys like some
spaghetti? The reason I said spaghetti is because a) Dad likes it so we have a lot of it in the
house, b) I didnt know if they were vegetarian or vegan or not (I think Reverend Kyle said
something about Mrs. Benton being vegan but I didnt know if she wanted to eat anyway) and c)
I could cook it real easy. I didnt really want to cook and thought about offering to run out and get
them some fried chicken or some pizza but I had already offered them spaghetti so it would
seem kind of strange to rescind that offer.
The suggestion of spaghetti was met with an enthusiastic nod by Mr. Benton and a sort
of shrug by Ruby. So I went into the kitchen and made a big pot of spaghetti and heated up a
whole jar of sauce. Mrs. Benton didnt end up joining us (neither did Dad) so Ruby, Mr. Benton
and I sat at the table and ate spaghetti in silence.
As I was cleaning up the dishes I heard Mr. Benton and Ruby whispering to each other.
Mr. Benton sounded mad at Ruby and the conversation ended with Ruby saying, Ok, ok, fine
and walking over to me. Do you need help with the dishes? she asked in a bored tone.
Nah. Im fine. Thanks, though. I went back to washing the dishes.
From behind I heard Ruby say, Is it true that your mom and your sister died in a car
crash?
I stopped washing the dishes. I was aware of the water running down the plates and over
my hands, the soap creating small bubbles that spun around in the water. I heard my voice say,
Yes. They did.
Oh. A hand touched my back. Im, uhsorry. Yeah, sorry. Then footsteps, leading
back to the living room, and then only the sound of the water running over the dishes. I stood
there for a moment, letting the event turn itself over again and again in my mind. Then reality
swooped back in and I started cleaning the dishes again.
That night, something weird happened. Well, I guess everything that had been
happening that week, ever since Reverend Kyle shook Dads hand outside the church, had
been strange, but what happened that night was stranger still.
After I had washed the dishes I went down to the basement and asked Dad if he wanted
any food. He was busy with his chairs and didnt respond to me. So I left him where he was and
went to my room to do some reading. It was about nine oclock at night when Ruby came into
my room. She sat on the edge of my bed. It was a strange feeling: there hadnt been a girl in my
room since Mom and Lil Sis died and I hadnt had the stomach to bring any of my girlfriends
into the house. Ruby had on her jacket and high heels. The shoes, it should be said, were
mismatching, one red and one blue, which looked good on Ruby. After a while of sitting on the
bed she turned her head slightly in my direction and said, Sorry about what I said.
Its okay.
Can you do me a favor?
I already thought I was doing her and her family a favor by letting them stay in our house

but still I listened. Sure. Whats up?

Can we go out tonight? I havent been out sinceyou know.
I raised an eyebrow. Technically I hadnt been out on the town for a while either. Dad
never wanted to leave and I was a bit of a homebody myself. Where do you want to go? I
asked.
Well, theres this cool place called Gully Wop uptown. Its like a jazz club. I was always
kind of freaked out going there alone because everyone else is so much older than me there.
But maybe if youre there She trailed off and stared at the ceiling fan.
I nodded. Okay. Let me get my coat and tell Dad where were going. Do your parents
know about this?
Oh, theyre both sleeping. But they wouldnt mind, she added, seeing the expression
on my face. Theyre really appreciative of what you and your dad are doing for us.
Well, its the least we could do.
No. The least you could do is put us in a cot in the church and bring us food every once
in a while when you feel bad. Youre letting us into your home. Thats really big, Sam.
It was the first time she had ever said my name and a glow came to my cheeks. I
thanked my dark skin for not revealing my blush and quickly got up off the bed and went over to
my closet. I picked out a warm leather coat (it was cold that night) and went back down to the
basement. Dad was sleeping on his cot when I walked down there. I went over to him. The
basement smelled of freshly cut wood and dust puffed out from underneath my shoes with every
step I took.
I shook Dad lightly until he grumbled and sat up. Dad?
What is it? he asked.
Ruby Benton and I are going to Gully Wop. You know, that jazz club?
His eyes widened a bit. Well, okay. Just be back before it gets real dark outside.
Okay, Dad. Youll be okay here, right? Theres leftover food in the fridge if you want it.
His head shook and his voice cracked a little when he said, Yeah. Ill be fine. Then he
laid back down and went to bed.
Gully Wop was usually packed on a weekend but it had been so cold these past couple
of days that people didnt want to go see jazz. The bouncer checked our IDsmine was real,
Rubys was fakeand let us in despite the fact that we werent as dressed up as other people
were. We sat down in a booth that overlooked the dance floor and before I knew it Ruby had
ordered a bottle of wine. I usually dont drink a lot, even though I turned twenty-one last year,
and when I do drink its usually beer so it had never occurred to me to order a full bottle of wine
before. The bottle was fairly cheap, tooonly twenty-five dollarsand Ruby agreed to throw in
half.
We sat there for a while drinking our glasses of wine, the jazz music playing softly in the
background. People were slow dancing on the floor. The bass was playing nice and low, the
notes reverberating in my chest. The horn rang out every once in a while, clear and loud and

beautiful. Ruby looked at the horn and then at me and smiled. You like this kind of music? she
said.
Yeah. My mom used to listen to it when I was a kid?
So, she died in a car crash? Sorry, she added, seeing the look on my face.
Its okay. It happened a long time ago. Her and my sister were driving to pick up
something my dad needed at the automobile repair shophe used to be a mechanicand they
were hit by a car. Drunk driver, apparently. Killed on impact, so they didnt suffer much. I
repeated the same lines that I had been told so many years ago.
Ruby ran a hand through her long dirty blonde hair. I noticed that she had the same eyes
as her fatherpleading, as if begging for forgiveness before anything offensive had been done
or said. When she was mad she looked like Mrs. Benton, sharp and filled with dark corners.
Im sorry. That must have been really hard for you and your dad.
Before I could stop myself words spilled out of my mouth. Its been harder on Dad than
it has been on me.
Why?
Well, I mean, it was hard on me too, of course it was. But I accepted it early on, I guess.
I knew they were gone. Dad hasnt done that yet. The way hes been living, its likeits like
hes waiting for them to come back.
She touched my hand then, her white-pink fingers grazing mine. She looked at me with a
look I had never seen beforepity mixed with attraction. I felt sick then, as if I had betrayed my
Dad. I took a big gulp of wine and looked back at the musicians. They were picking up tempo
now, the drummer counting a 6/4 beat and the horn keeping in time.
I heard her start to speak through my right ear. My parents arent happy.
I turned back to her. Her face was turned down again, as it had been that first day in
church when they had been introduced to the world of Harlem. Sorry to hear that, I said.
Yeah. They havent really been the perfect couple. But the fire really made things
worse. She took a deep breath and when she started to talk again her voice was breaking, like
Dads had been only worse, less restrained. It was so scary, that fire.
You dont have to talk about it if you dont want to.
But I feel bad. I made you talk about your mom and your sister.
Whats past is past. Cant do anything about it now.
She wiped her eyes. I suppose so. She took another sip of wine. Her glass was empty
and I refilled it. She looked at me as the red liquid sloshed from bottle to glass. Thank you,
she whispered when I was done, picking up the glass by the stem and taking a larger sip.
After a while the bottle was done and we paid the bill. As we walked home, side by side,
Ruby looked at me and I looked at her. Our hands were in our pockets because of the chill. As
we got to an intersection, the big red hand telling us not to cross, our hands fell out. I felt the
cold almost immediately, the frigid burn spreading through my skin and seeping into my bones. I
felt a small scratch on my pinkie and glanced over. Rubys hand had brushed against mine.
Then slowly, as if it were fated to happen, as if we were two continents coming together by law
of tectonic movement, our hands touched again, our fingers slowly interlocked one by one and

when the red hand vanished and the white walking man appeared we were joined hand in hand
and slowly we walked across the street, back home.
As if that wasnt strange enough, the night got stranger still.
Ruby and I got home just before it got really dark outside. We disentangled from each
other and she went to her bed in Lil Siss room and I went downstairs to the basement. I
wanted to tell Dad we had gotten home okay but, more importantly, I wanted to tell him what had
happened between me and Ruby. I wanted to see his face, gauge his reaction. I wanted to see if
he was okay, if we were okay to do this, to finally move on.
I crept down the stairs. As my foot left the second-to-last step I heard a noise. It was
quiet, stifled even. It sounded like someone was crying. I felt my way around in the dark
basement and the sobbing noise got louder. It was wracked with emotion, hard slabs of sadness
slamming down inside someones throat. I couldnt imagine, even for a second, that it was Dad
who was crying, even though it was the most realistic option. I had never seen him cry, not even
when Mom and Lil Sis went. He had been stoic, solid-faced, a stone shaped by rivers that
never moved despite the ebb and flow of mighty waters. I got close to his cot and the sobbing
was louder then, as loud as sobbing could get. I knew that the light was right above his cot and I
flicked the switch. The lightbulb flickered, gasped, then shone brightly, illuminating the dark
basement, throwing light into the dark corners of the room.
There was a chair sitting in the middle of the room. It was a light brown, with a single
word carved into the part where the back of the spine hits the chair. I had to look away before
the word was burned into my mind forever so I looked at Dad. He was curled into the fetal
position. He looked so sad and small that I had to look away again before the image of him I had
before was lost forever. The crying stopped but I could remember his wet cheeks, the way his
exposed toes wiggled at the bodys recognition of light.
I also remember the small doll, the one with the wooden head and the painted face
turned upwards in an idiot grin, staring up at me from Dads arms, its pale blue eyes calling
back the tides of memory, of laughing car rides, of something lost.
The next morning I slept much later than I normally do, and when I came downstairs
Ruby was sitting at the table texting. Mr. Benton had gone to work and Mrs. Benton was
watching TV on the sofa. She was watching some quirky cooking show where everyone
pretends to be more enthusiastic than they really are. For some reason this show pissed me off
and when I came into the room Mrs. Benton quickly turned it off as if she could sense my anger.
She got up and slunk out of the room to go outside, probably for another cigarette. As she did
she gave me a dirty look similar to the one she gave her husband earlier on. I didnt know what I
had done but I chose not to think about.
I went back into the kitchen. Ruby was done texting and she looked up and gave me a
smile. She looked very pretty when she smiled. Hey, Sammy. Whats for breakfast?
I laughed. Well, weve got waffles and eggs. I could make those.
Sounds good.

Then Mrs. Benton walked in. You have any coffee? she asked me. It was the first thing
she had ever said to me and I was a bit thrown off. I think so, I replied. Dad keeps it in the
freezer for some reason.
She made a disapproving noise and sat back down. Her eyes were glued to her phone.
Ruby looked up at me and frowned. I turned away and started making the waffles and eggs. I
took the coffee out of the freezer and made a pot. Ruby got up from her chair and stood by my
side as the coffee maker spluttered to life and thick brown drops of caffeine dropped into the
mug. I was curious as to how Mrs. Benton took her coffee, as if this would reveal something
about her as well as the situation we were in. I took the mug of hot coffee over to her and she
looked up at me. Do you want any creamer or milk or anything? I asked.
No thank you, she said in a level tone. She sipped at it and stared off into the distance
for a while. She took another few gulps and when the mug was half-empty (or half-full,
depending on how you look at it) she got up from her chair and walked out the door again,
probably to have another cigarette.
Ruby had a cup of water from the tap and she drank it slowly. Then she looked up and
said, Thanks for letting us stay in your house.
Youre welcome. I looked back at her. Sorry about your house burning down.
Its alright. I didnt like that house anyway. She looked back up at me. Not that I dont
like the neighborhood
Its okay. I wasnt thinking that.
Okay. Its just, my parents really started fighting when we got here.
I sat down at the table with my cup of coffee. I dont drink too much coffee normally but I
figured since there was some leftover Id have a cup. So why do your parents fight?
Its bad. I dont know if you want to hear it.
How bad could it be?
She put her hands in the pockets of her jacket and sighed. It has to do with you.
Me? How could it have to do with me? I just met you guys.
She looked away. Not with you guys personally. You see sheshe was raised on a
farm out West, by this pastor, my grandfather and he had somethoughts aboutwell She
gestured towards me.
I nodded. So she doesnt like black people?
Well she doesnt hate African-Americans but she doesnt feel comfortable around
them. You. Im sorry.
Its not your fault. Do you feel that way?
No! Of course not! I mean, I reallyI mean, I like you a lot. You and your Dad.
Regardless of what race you are. I dont care about that sort of stuff. I mean, its not that
important to me. In a bad way, I mean. Oh God, this isthis is shit, isnt it?
I held her hand across the table. Its fine. Really, it is.
She looked up at me and gave me a little smile. Okay.

Dad was still in the basement of course so I went down to give him some coffee. I
brought down a mug and a powdered doughnut. He sat on his stool looking at the chair. The
word on the back of the chair stared at me. Without looking Dad reached for his coffee and I
handed it to him. He placed it on the counter in front of him. He was whittling something down
into a shape, maybe a flute, and I watched him for a while. Then I said, Do you want a
doughnut with your coffee?
No thank you.
Okay.
As I was walking up the stairs I heard him swivel around and say, Last night He left
the words hanging, trailing in the abyss. Did you have a good time? he finally said.
Yes. Ruby and I had a good time.
He sighed. Thats good. You know, I want you to be happy, Sam.
I know. I want you to be happy too, Dad.
He looked back at his whittling without another word. We stood there for a while. Then I
said, I was just talking to Ruby. Apparently Mrs. Benton is uncomfortable around black people.
I figured. The knife cut into the wood, sending slivers flying.
How do you feel about that?
Fine. I dont really care. Theyll be gone soon enough.
Yeah, but theyll still be living in Harlem.
Theyll probably move soon. After this experience, why would they want to stay?
I suppose. But I really like Ruby, you know? I hope she doesnt leave.
Dad stopped chipping away at the wood and turned his head slightly towards me. Dont
worry too much about it, Sam. If she really likes you, shell come back. They always do.
Thanks Dad. It was the most my Dad had ever said to me in the way of advice. We
stood there for a while in happy silence and then I walked back up the stairs.
The Bentons stayed with us for about a week. Then the emergency shelters in the
church were set up. I wasnt there the day they moved out because I was shopping for school
stuff. When I was ready to leave the house they were all in their rooms sleeping and I didnt
know what to do. Dad was down in the basement, as usual. It felt wrong to leave without saying
goodbye so I went upstairs and knocked on the door.
There was a muffled sound from inside and I stepped back from the door. I wondered if I
had disturbed some type of family meeting. Then the door opened and Mr. Benton stood there.
His face was flustered and his eyes were teary. Yes? he said.
Hey, Mr. Benton. I knew you guys were leaving today. I was just coming to say
goodbye.
Oh. Well, goodbye. Thank you for letting us stay here. As he closed the door I heard a
shoutit sounded as if it had come from Ruby. I considered going in there, barging through the
door and demanding to know what was going on. Wouldnt that be a sign that I liked her? But
the longer I stood outside the door the more I thought about it and eventually I went back

downstairs. The word honky twisted around in my brain as I left the house and walked down
towards the store, twisted again and again like a maelstrom, spinning out of control.
A few days after the Bentons left Reverend Kyle came over. He rang the doorbell one
morning around eleven. I let him in. He had bought over a cake and some beers and I thought it
was a bit too nice but Dad didnt seem to mind. He and Reverend Kyle had some beers while I
took the cake inside and got plates out.
He talked for a while, sort of droned on and on and then he said Moms name. Dads
ears and mine perked up.
What did you say, Reverend? said Dad in a low whisper.
I said, you and Sammy here must have had your share of misfortune, what with Clara
and Samantha dying in that terrible car crash. Reverend Kyle leaned over and folded his
fingers together. It must have been a terrible loss. To lose a wife and child, a mother and
sister.
Dad and I stood shock still, unable to move. Then Dad said, Reverend, can you do me
a favor?
Why, yes, Mr. Callow. Anything for you guys.
Dad got up out of the chair. Please leave. Please leave and dont come back.
The Reverends face fell. Why? Did I do something wrong?
Yes. Yes you did. You reminded me of that day. Dont you think I think of it enough
without your annoying voice stumbling into my ear? Dont you think I see the peoples faces
whenever I step inside your house of God, the whispers and the sad little eyes turned to me as if
I deserved pity? Dont you think weve had enough? Dad was doing his best to keep himself
under control but his voice cracked like lightning, his baritone rustling like thunder through the
tall grass.
We all stood there in the silence for a while. Then Reverend Kyle stood up and put his
hat back on. II guess I should be leaving now. He took to the door and hurried down the
street. That was the last we ever saw of Reverend Kyle. He left the parish soon after that, much
to the chagrin of the other folks who went to church. Dad didnt seem to mind too much.
Its five years later. Ive finished with school and Im working in the city as a stock broker.
Its a hard job but a good one. It keeps me busy and puts food on the table so I cant complain.
Ruby moved in with me after a while. Weve been seeing each other. Her parents got a
divorce. Mr. Benton lives in Brooklyn and Mrs. Benton moved up to New Hampshire. I dont have
any ill will towards her. I wish her the best of luck.
A while ago Ruby and I were moving stuff out of my Dads apartment. Dad is getting on
in years and wanted to move in with us. Hes starting to get sickthe smoking and the long
hours of isolation will do that to you, I supposeand he wanted to be close to Ruby and I before
he went.
Anyway, Ruby was cleaning upstairs and I went down into the basement. I saw the chair
with the word carved into the back. It was still in the middle of the floor. Two words had been

added on either side of the word in the middle and suddenly it all came together. I realized then
that this was Dads master statement, not the words he had said to Reverend Kyle all those
years ago.
I called Ruby down. She was wearing a red dress and had a streak of velvet hair that ran
down the side of her head. She walked carefully down the stairs, staring strangely at the dark
room that Dad had spent so much time in while she was here. She looked at me, then at the
chair, and I could tell from the look on her face that she understood. She sidled up next to me
and nuzzled into my neck and I kissed her head and together we looked at the chair, that
beautiful chair, the words I LOVE YOU looking back at us, a reminder of all there was and all
there ever will be. Amen.