The Same River Twice Read Online Free PDF Page A

he stumbled, face red, and banned her from the ferry.
    â€œStarting when?” she said.
    â€œNow.”
    â€œStop the boat!” she yelled. “Take me back.” She slapped him across the face. “That nutball grabbed my ass. Help, help!”
    Passengers turned away in a slack-eyed city manner, but a couple of burly men advanced. Jahi grabbed them by their belt buckles, one in each tiny hand.
    â€œHe’s the one,” she said, her voice sliding into the plaintive tone of a child. “He’s the one who touched me down there.”
    One of her saviors had two tears tattooed below his right eye. At the base of his hairline were the letters H.A.N.Y.C. The taller one had a subway token embedded in his ear hole, the flesh grown around it like a board nailed to a tree.
    â€œWhich one,” the tall guy said.
    â€œDon’t know,” Jahi said. “Can’t remember.”
    â€œStomp both,” said the other one.
    â€œIt was him.” The boat guard pointed at me. “He’s the freak.”
    â€œRat knows its own hole,” the tall one said.
    â€œYeah,” I said. “Smeller’s the feller.”
    The hard guys looked at me and I realized that I’d pulled their focus from the uniform.
    â€œYou two are big bullies,” Jahi said.
    She spread her legs and arched her back, tipping her head to look up at them. Her voice came hard and mean.
    â€œNervous without your hogs. I’d half-and-half you on the spot if you took a shower. Don’t dime me on this fucking tub, boys. Here’s the front. The citizen’s with me but he’s cherry for a mule. The boat heat’s a cowboy looking for a notch. You clippers cross the wise and it’s a hard down, with no help from your brothers. They took their taste last night in the Alphabet.”
    The bikers stiffened beneath her onslaught, eyes turning reptile-flat. The tall one eased backwards, disappearing among the passengers, his friend following. The boat guard tracked them at a coward’s distance. Jahi wiped a sheen of sweat from each temple.
    â€œWhat was all that?” I asked. “I didn’t understand a word you said.”
    â€œThey did.” She brushed her knuckles against my crotch. “You understand this, right?”
    I nodded and when the ferry docked across the bay, we crawled into one of the emergency rowboats lashed to the side and frolicked in the bow.
    The following Saturday she took me to the nude area of Rock-away Beach, where fat voyeurs trailed ugly women. Men with perfect hair trooped naked in pairs. I remembered my grandmother’s opinion of a Playgirl magazine my sister showed her one Christmas. “They’re just like on the farm,” Grandmaw had said. “All those old-fashioned pumps with the handles hanging down.”
    Jahi chose a few square yards of dirty sand amid condoms and cigarette butts. I’ve always hated the beach except in winter. The sun’s too hot, the sea’s too cold, and the presence of humanity spoils any natural beauty still lurking in the sand. Jahi refused to disrobe on the grounds that she was brown enough. We’d never discussed her heritage and I didn’t want to embarrass myself with the stupidity of asking if she tanned. She insisted that I undress. Since I would not lie on my stomach and proffer myself to the steady parade of men, I lay on my back. The sun scorched my testicles within five minutes.
    Jahi teased me for days. In the subway she cocked her head, voice loud to draw attention.
    â€œAre your balls still sunburnt, Chris? They must itch like fire.” She addressed the nearest stranger. “Burnt to cinders at the beach. If he’s not bragging, he’s complaining.”
    Our public time was a constant duel designed to make me angry, jealous, or embarrassed. As she ran low on ammo against my nonchalance, her improvisations became more outrageous. While waiting for a train, she