Prologue â Black Power mixup
The first thing I notice when I enter Monaâs Country Kitchen is the glorious smell of frying fish. The second thing I notice is the frown on Jesse Sempleâs face.
âI see you, sister,â he says. Heâs in the booth closest to the door, so of course he sees me. When I point this out he shakes his head and says, âwhat I mean is, I know what youâre trying to do.â
I walk over to his table, take off my coat, and drop it on the seat opposite him. âAre we going to get some food? The line isnât too long yet,â I say. I smile and nod in the direction of the people queuing behind the order here sign.
His frown deepens. âI said, I know what youâre trying to do.â He remains firmly rooted in his seat.
I sigh, move my coat aside, and slide into the booth. âWhatâs that?â
âYou ainât here to pay me back for fixing your icebox,â he says. âWhat you really want is to counsel me about Zoe.â
Jesse calls himself a handyman, but he can fix or build or rebuild pretty much anything, which I take to mean that he is either an incredibly good handyman or that he is a retired contractor or engineer or something. I donât know his background because whenever I ask about it he unspools a story or a rant that is never as relevant to my questions as he thinks it is. Still, people I trust recommended him very highly when I moved here, and heâs proven them right. Heâs also become a friend.
I know what he can fix and build because he has almost completely remade my townhouse, bit by bit, since I bought it a year ago. During most of this time he has been living with my next-door neighbor, Zoe, despite having a house of his own nearby. Apparently now there is some problem.
âCounsel you? About what?â
âYou want me to stay in good with Zoe so I donât move out.â
âI didnât even know you and Zoe were having trouble. What happened?â
âWhat happened is that something is very wrong with that woman. You seen âBlack Power Mixtape?ââ
âThe documentary with the archival footage from the â60s and â70s?â
He nods. âI was telling Zee about it and she had no idea what I was talking about.â
âI only know about it because you told me, and I still havenât seen it. So you had to tell her about it. So what?â
âListen. She had no idea what I was talking about. Not just about the film. She was a bunch of, âwhatâs Black Power?â So I told her about Stokely Carmichael and Willie Ricks and all that. And the whole time she was just looking straight confused.â
âNot everyone knows those names,â I say.
âI had the same thought,â he says. âThought maybe I was being too specific. So I told her never mind the individual people. I told her I was talking about what happened to civil rights when they realized Jim Crow wasnât all there was to it. I told her I was talking about race relations.â
âThat didnât help?â
He shakes his head. âShe just said, âwhat kind of relations? Which relations?ââ
âMaybe she didnât hear you.â
He taps his index finger to the side of his head, uses the same finger to point at me, then smiles and says, âWay ahead of you. I said it again, louder. âRace relations.â She just stared at me, like I was speaking Sanskrit. Thatâs when I decided.â Here he leans forward, like heâs about to tell me a secret. âShe is not all there.â He returns to his original position and looks at me expectantly.
The would-be diners are now lined up all the way to the sidewalk. The glorious smell races out to join them, riding the draft from the propped-open door right past our table. Iâm too distracted to work up the sympathy or outrage that Jesse seems to require. All I can say is, âthat does sound like a problem. But Iâm not sure why itâs my problem. Why would I invite you here under false pretenses to â how did you put it?â
âTo counsel me.â
âYes, that. Why would I do that?â
âBecause you need me to stay next door, so I can come round to your place whenever something knocks or pings and get you fixed up. And because this business is making me wonder if I need to be under the same roof as that woman.â
âJesse, you have your own house two blocks away. Even if you split up with Zoe you could still come around.â
âA couple of blocks can make all the difference when madwomen are on the loose.â
âThatâs a little dramatic.â
âThink about it. How could a grown woman in the United States of America not know what race means?â
âIâm not sure I know what race means. Are you?â
âYouâre damn right Iâm sure. And I donât trust anyone who isnât. Who knows what other basic stuff she doesnât know? If I ask her to put some cream in my coffee, will she reach for the bleach? If I ask her to get some food delivered will she call the SWAT team? Iâm not getting shot because she donât know the difference between pizza and the police. This may be the last time you see me on this side of town.â
âI guess I better go on and pay you for the icebox, then.â
âBuy me lunch and weâll be even. And get a couple of extra to go platters. Who knows when Iâll be back this way.â