Love Enough Read Online Free PDF

Eglinton quietly, even carefully, after that revelation. At a stoplight, a cop car rolled up alongside. Even this they took calmly. The cop car turned right on Caledonia and they took that calmly too. No deep exhalation of relief, no triumph about how close that was. Bedri lifted his elbow to the window, his hand to the upper frame. His hand felt heavy. He looked at it. His hand was swollen. It was heavy and swollen.
    “Stop here, here!” Bedri said. They were at the intersection of Eglinton and Keele Street, nothing there excepta car wash, a string of low-slung buildings ending in a convenience store, and a high school. Miss June, he thought. A small light over a door next to the convenience store showed him the tag he’d made in bold black on the door a year ago. It was a Drop-in centre. “I won’t make you scrub that off if you learn this,” she’d told him. She handed him a poem by Xavier Simone. He read the first lines and smiled. It jangled in his head now. Love Poem 17.
But I am going with you, love/ I hope you remember the suitcases, fragrant/ with books/ let us meet in rain-drenched cities/ let us meet smoking cigarettes/ let us take Urdu dance lessons/ let us arrive in Arabic on Monday
.
    “Why you wanna stop here? The Beast’s gone.” Ghost was glad of the broken silence, as if they’d returned to their old selves. He pulled over. Bedri opened the door, got out and walked back toward the light post near the school at the corner of Keele Street, lifting his hand to see. It seemed deformed to him. Deformed as the man’s head, and broken. There was a small smudge on the knuckle of his index finger, and his nail on the little finger, the one he kept long and polished, was broken and hanging. He hadn’t noticed that before. He pulled the rest of the nail off and felt a short pain as his right hand seemed to pull itself away from more beating. The pain travelled to his elbow and hedropped his hand, placing it between his legs, bending over.
    Ghost sat waiting, the Audi humming. He looked in the rear-view mirror, watched Bedri raise his hand to the light, and then drop it between his legs. He pressed the gas, bringing the car to a low growl; he hoped Bedri would respond to it, turn and come back to the car. The traffic at the intersection came and went, cars peeling off Keele Street heading down the hill, or gliding past them along Eglinton. But the two of them existed unaware now of the rest of the city. Unaware in the ordinary sense of being aware, of having somewhere to go, or return to, someone to call. Not that they ever had someone to call, except in an emergency, but now they had no one to call; not even in an emergency.
    Bedri turned towards the car, walked back, opened the door and said, “I’ll take it here, dude.”
    “What you mean?” Ghost said, looking straight ahead.
    “I’ll take it here, I’m gone.”
    “We ain’t nowhere, here,” Ghost said. “I’ll take you home, no problem, Money.”
    Bedri’s hand hurt. He wanted to say, sure. He heard the begging in Ghost’s offer. He saw the nub of the right side of Ghost’s neck scar.
    “No guy, it’s cool, I’ll take it here.” He shut the door,turned toward the light pole again and walked in its direction. He heard the car linger, then rev up and take off. His hand hurt, but by impulse he lifted it to wipe his face and doubled his pain. He leaned against the post. He didn’t think of Ghost. He thought his hand was broken, and how would he explain it? How would he explain it to his father? Fuck.
    A thief is always under suspicion. A coward is full of precaution. In the ocean one does not need to sow water. Poverty is slavery. He who does not shave you does not cut you. A brother is like one’s shoulder. One cannot count on riches. To be without a friend is to be poor indeed. Dogs understand each other by their barking, men by their words. A madman does not lack wisdom. A person stands next to shade, not next to words. Where I make