Insurrections Read Online Free PDF Page B

it’s going to get harder.
    Forever, huh? I was going to name Luce forever, or rather, Samad, one of the ninety-nine names of Allah—Al-Samad, the eternal. But then I started to think about eternity, what a curse if you’re not God, right? My man God doesn’t have holy rent and holy bills to pay. Eternity means someone always digging into your pocket, forever being distracted from your deepest desires, spending all your time doing something you don’t want to do in order to pay a petty light bill. So in that hospital room while Ricca was screaming and pushing Luce out, I changed my mind about wanting my son to be eternal. His little head looked sort of like a beam of light so I dropped my college Arabic for my high school Spanish. La Luz, the light. But light, it’s beautiful and all, but it generates heat: heat burns. That’s what this family shit does, it burns you. Sets you on fire. Burns you to a fucking crisp. All my sense is burned from me. Everything. I’m gutted like a burnt-out building. I’m burned. I can’t stand. One day I’m gonna topple over, a pile of fucking burnt ash that’ll burn forever.
    And that, Rashid, is the good news. The sun burns and burns and burns and one day it’ll burn out. Massive explosion, taking everything with it, kid. But while it burns, look how much flourishes. Go back to yourfamily, Rashid. Make the day special for Luce. Let Ricca scream at you. You deserve it. And then tomorrow, continue to burn, it’s all you can do.
    Rashid stared at the old man and then he turned and slowly walked to the door. Yeah, he said with his hand on the knob. Yeah. You know something, Walter? I regret it all. Every single moment. Not getting head from Kyla. Ricca. Luce. This stinking-ass Cookie Monster costume. My job. Cross River. And if I had made any different choices in life, I’d regret those too. Catch you later, Walter.
    Later, son. Oh, you might want to take off that smelly costume before you go back in there.
    Right, Rashid said from the hallway. As he shimmied from the furry blue outfit, the door slammed itself shut. Walter heard Rashid’s feet moving up the stairs and above him a door opened and slammed.
    If there were a time to head to the corner store and get a pack of beer, it would be now, he thought. Why would he want to remember all this? This was the type of memory that one wants to fade into a fuzzy haze. Walter noticed the blue Cookie Monster head resting on the floor. From some angles, the smiling open mouth looked like an expression of abashed joy, from others it resembled horror. He rubbed his eyes and his forehead. He felt drunk, but it was a different drunk from the one the bottle would give him. Walter suddenly was struck by the image of one day coming in to see Rashid’s legs dangling atop his balcony, all dead and furry and Cookie Monster blue.
    But right now there was music and children’s laughter from above and when he got close to the balcony, he could even hear Rashid laughing, to be sure. Walter placed the smiling, googly-eyed Cookie Monster head atop his bookshelf and rested himself on the couch. That afternoon he fell asleep watching the grinning puppet head and listening to the joy from above.

Everyone Lives in a Flood Zone
    Walking with a hunched posture, shambling through a windy day, being pelted by cool dots of water. There was something inevitable about my bent gait. Somehow, somewhere deep down I really did believe it would protect me from the rain. Did no such thing, of course.
    The day was breezy and cold, and I wore a thin jacket as I’d expected it to be warmer when I left the house in the morning. Cold wetness does much to clear the detritus from the mind and leave one focused only on the moment, and before long I had two thoughts: I’m soaked. I’m shivering.
    I’ve never been one to watch weather reports. It’s more honorable to take the weather as it comes.
    Forgive