Silence Page 2
He wanted their life story
nodded his head while they shared trouble and need
then he sat alone behind a closed door
and decided the price of their weakness
All of their security pledged
the documents signed
by faces with grimly formed lips
then safely locked with his key
in a metal filing cabinet
(confession)
Henry’s skin was black as a night sky on a new moon
His arms thick and muscled from heavy labor
and his thinning hair had specks of gray
A red rag hung out of his back pocket
a long key chain looped down from his belt and disappeared
into the right front pocket of his blue khaki pants
The bill of the baseball cap
he wore from breakfast until he climbed into bed
was rolled into a tight curve
He slid the cap down to where the bottom edge was just above his ears
tilted up just enough to make his round face look
like he was about to break into a smile
his eyes had an inquisitive open look that was alert and clear
Twenty-five years in prison without parole
a dark hidden streak of anger or resentment
left from a bar fight when he was sixteen
Henry was arrested with eight others
His lawyers did not speak to him
or ask why he was in the bar
He cleaned tables and washed dishes
nor did anyone ask how he got involved
Slapped by a drunk who threatened to kill him
when he picked up the man’s empty whisky bottle
Henry pushed the man away and he fell on a table
several drinks spilled on the clothes of two men
who started shouting and pushing Henry and the drunk
The drunk kicked one of them
A man died and no one knew how
but Henry served the time
When the judge asked him if he killed the man
he answered truthfully that he did not know
Everyone else in the fight
when asked the same question
said no
It was easier for a white judge to take a young black man’s
I don’t know as yes
simply because he did not want to dig
into the circumstances of a dead drunk black man in a bar
Henry’s defense lawyers were white
the state attorney was white
Everyone in the courtroom at the time of his “confession” was white
No one worried that he was underage for an adult trial
no one questioned the maximum adult sentence
Ignorant of the law and shoved into a corner of the Florida prison system
Henry never questioned anyone
did not know he had a right to appeal
no one told him about the parole process
The first fortunate thing in his life happened
when a new prison superintendent reviewed the records
saw that the end of Henry’s term was several days past
Given the civil rights climate in Florida in 1957
the superintendent very quietly processed the release paperwork
glad no one noticed
Henry used the pocket money to buy a bus ticket
from Raiford to Titusville and that suited him fine
because he knew the grove owners were hiring labor to pick oranges
He would save money make small purchases and gradually build a life
that would surprise anyone taken by his appearance and manner
He bought a small flat-bottom boat sturdy and watertight
the paint was peeling
The small motor was greasy and showed rust
but it was reliable
A seafood restaurant in a stand of Australian Pine trees
on the east shore of the river
bought the crabs oysters and shrimp Henry pulled from the river
The restaurant was barely more than a covered picnic area
with wooden benches tables and a stone pit
used to steam shellfish and smoke mullet
Wood siding that resembled a fence more than a wall
barely kept gnats and mosquitoes out at night
Kerosene lanterns provided light
Ten extra dollars a week
(smell)
I was distant with my brother Frank
maybe it was just the difference I felt between us
I cannot see the world through his eyes
My sight is grafted on in silence
like a sentinel I stood between Frank and Dad
Mom picked me up headed to the bathroom
Dad stood outside the door
Christ he’s old enough to wash himself you spoil him Claire
She washed me in silence
Water in the tub had a slick of malathion peppered with black dust
the soap bubbles black
Outside the door I heard
Do you think you can spy on me and get away with it
I waited for the blows to beat down on Frank
The words were the clue to the battle at home
Dad’s blonde hair
fixed in place
his sunglasses tilted
When Grandpa William came over that night they talked in the study
Frank and I sat at the top of the stairs where we could hear
and see them from the shoulders down
Grandpa William took off his tie
tore the top button off his shirt
They talked town politics
who would get elected
who they would give money
They were concerned about the Negroes and how they would vote
Grandpa William left without saying a word
he walked straight down the hall and out the front door
The echo of his steps changed from the porch to the sidewalk
He disappeared into a dark hole in the night
The hole swallowed him and the sound
A short time later Grandpa William died
Frank asked why Dad beat me
I told him how the insecticide burned my skin
especially the skin around my fingernails
and all the places I have little cuts
The soap stings too when you try to wash the spray off
I put my hands under Frank’s nose and he smelled my fingers
They smell like diesel fuel even after you wash
I told him I’m never going to work in the groves for Dad
I can’t stand the smell
(all wind brushed away)
The ground under the orange tree looked like the back of my mother’s hands
gray roots like the blue veins
brown leaves littered the ground like age spots
A rope hung from the limbs next to the trunk
the canopy dropped to a drip line of grass
The shade cool and still
wind brushed away by the movement of the leaves
light dropped like mottled patterns that fluttered through a pinwheel
onto my brother Frank
I tied him there and watched him crawl like a dog
until dirt filled the creases of his elbows and knees
His neck was rubbed raw by the rope
He could have left at any time he decided to stand up and pull on the knot
but he played the animal to prove to me he was capable
I started to laugh and laughed until my eyes turned red with fear
his growls were like an angry cry
I cried with him
my anger kindled by the diesel oil mixed with the dust of gray sand
Was
he reminded like me
Was he angry
I saw his fatigue and I sat down next to him
to look out at the world beyond the leaves
The white house on one side
stacked tires
wood pallets
the yellow painted engine of a tractor blackened by soot and sand
The underside of the leaves
filled with the larvae of white scale
ready to suck the sap out of the leaves
Aphids crawled on every new green stem
Along the trunk small branches had died
Knots formed and green tissue grew over the wounds
I looked at my skin brown wet with sweat
and tried to imagine my wounds healing over scars
to become smooth and soft as day old leaves
(parallel)
Alan took me to a black bar
north of Titusville
and left me in the backseat
Before he went inside he told me
he did it to intimidate the niggers
He was not afraid of them
they needed him
he said no one else would hire them
After an hour Alan came out
with a black woman and they stood outside the car
Alan held her hands behind her back
She asked him to stop
but he pushed her up against the car
I slid across the back seat
to move away
I found myself staring into two eyes
of a young girl
Her hair was pulled back tight
in a way that made her face round
She was sad and never made a sound
Alan walked back to the bar with the woman
The girl walked between the cars
just behind Alan
The woman rubbed her neck
with her head tilted forward
She glanced over at the girl
and held her finger up to her mouth
(papers)
I sat in a long meditation on the chair opposite his desk
stared at the pile of papers
swung my legs
ran around the room
angry that I had to sit still and wait
My arms like wings hit the pile of papers
and they fell on the floor
slid under the desk
the chair
Alan erupted from his seat
more papers flew
I dropped on my knees to pick them up
stacked them on the corner of the desk
took one slip
looked at the numbers
stuffed it in my pocket and sat
while the white demon roamed through the room
cursed at me
turned red in the cheeks
loosened the collar to his shirt
sat down with the uneven pile on his lap
to sort the papers one by one
two hours
through shuffled stacked clipped papers
more anxious a second time
a third time the red face returned
without sound
He stared at me
went out to get one of the bank tellers
They both looked carefully
Is that all the deposit slips was the question
Eventually