Say Nice Things About Detroit Read Online Free PDF

nudge, a pointy elbow to his ribcage.
    â€œI just like you,” he said.
    â€œThat’s your answer?”
    â€œI don’t have an answer. What do you think we’re doing?”
    â€œI’m a sucker for attention,” she said.
    He was hoping for higher standards, but he’d take it.
    â€œAnd you were Natalie’s boyfriend,” she said. “I always wanted what she had, and suddenly I have it.”
    â€œIt isn’t personal, you’re saying.”
    â€œIt’s very personal. But I’m married. I have a child. I have to go back home.”
    â€œI’m thinking of moving back here,” he said. The words were out, and he found that they were settling well. The idea of a move, of change, lifted his mood. He was ready to start something new.
    â€œMoving back?”
    â€œIt’s home, where I’m from. It seems like a silly, hopeless thing to do, so maybe it will work for me.”
    â€œIt’s like moving back to Hiroshima,” she said.
    â€œPeople live there now, I’m pretty sure.” In the darkness he thought he saw her smile, or grimace. It didn’t matter which. He had made a decision.

1994
    I
    M arlon heard it, his name, three times, like an echo. He handed the joint back to Eric. “Gonna have to go.”
    â€œWhat for?”
    â€œMy dad’s calling.”
    â€œI ain’t heard nothing.”
    â€œI hear him,” Marlon said. In truth, he didn’t want to go. He had a good buzz and he just wanted to hang here, behind his friend’s house, and let the afternoon wash over him, time sliding by like a river. It was what made this summer special, the afternoon high, enjoying what adults got to enjoy.
    Marlon spent most every day with Eric. Sometimes they said they were brothers, and they meant it like blood. Better than blood. Eric was someone he could count on. Eric lived with his mother and a real older brother, and neither one was ever around, except the brother in the middle of the night. His mother could be gone for days, and sometimes there was nothing to eat. Eric took to hiding food in his room, so his brother wouldn’t get it.
    â€œYou lucky, man,” Eric said.
    â€œ ’Cause I gotta go?” Marlon asked.
    â€œ ’Cause you got an old man who wants you to.”
    â€œUsually he’s pissed at me,” Marlon said, and this was true. Marlon could hardly do anything right. “He’s always on me at home,” Marlon continued. “About doing good in school, what am I gonna do with my life, all that shit.”
    Eric took a long drag, then talked while holding in the smoke. “So, that’s gotta really suck, huh? Being loved too much?”
    â€¢ • •
    H E WALKED IN the back door and there was his father, Everett, waiting for him, showered and scrubbed. His father always did a lot of scrubbing to get the steel plant off of him. They had chemicals at the plant that floated in the air and left everything stiff and sticky, as if it had been coated in hairspray. Just last weekend Marlon had watched his mother dump the laundry on the floor and out came his father’s work clothes, frozen in the circular shape of the laundry hamper.
    â€œHow you feeling, son?” his father asked.
    â€œGood.”
    â€œTook you a while to get here.”
    â€œJust came on my own. Didn’t hear nothing.”
    â€œAnything,” his mother said. She was at the stove, and always on him to talk white.
    His father tilted his head, a way of giving an order. Marlon took his place at the table. It wasn’t so bad to sit here with a nice buzz. Also, he was starving. When the food hit the table, he dug in. At one point he looked up and both of his parents were staring at him.
    â€œYou want to take a breath?” his father asked.
    â€œHungry,” he explained. He finished his chicken, took the plate to the sink, and then headed for the back door. His parents were