Fearing a lawsuit in the wake of the U.S. Supreme Court LGBTQ decision against discrimination in the workplace, the local radio station rehired JayJay Bone as a news talk show host. Right wing management even set him up in a glass booth on the corner where crowds still packed the street to see the Blessed Mother.
Leaning out his apartment window across the street to scan the sky for Dillon, William remained mesmerized by the nightly commotion now made more hectic by the live radio broadcast.
That’s him, William said, that’s the guy we saved.
Darryl looked up from reading online newspaper accounts about two mysterious social justice warriors who bum-rushed Big Bob’s bootleg bistro and turned the joint upside down with paintballs and attempted interracial hugs.
Darryl moved to the window.
Yeah, that’s him all right. Is he still possessed with being gay?
He didn’t seem too happy to me, William said.
You want to call?
William raised his eyebrows.
Call the radio show?
Yeah, make a public statement about the pandemic and the protests. Everybody saw us on the TV news. We can’t go back to work. We might as well say something on our own behalf about hatred and stupidity.
Americans like hatred and stupidity, William said.
We’ll fight oppression. Ignorance is real oppressive if you’re black and got some cracker cop’s boot on your throat.
William didn’t seem too sure.
We’ll be like superheroes?
I want to be Blackman, like Superman only Blackman. Who do you want to be?
Popeye, William said.
The cartoon sailor man?
William perked up.
Popeye always respected Olive Oyl and pounded Bluto every chance he got.
You need to see a psychiatrist, Darryl said.
Been there, done that.
Maybe we should just forget about being superheroes, Darryl said.
Frustrated, William seemed conflicted.
Then I take it you’re finished with all that Hate-Eater business.
Yeah, I don’t know what I was thinking. I’m just angry, man. I want to do something constructive to make a difference. Make America great for a change
Maybe we should just turn ourselves in, William said.
Remember what I said about we, Kimosabe?
Yeah, you didn’t break any laws, Darryl.
The curtains fluttered as Dillon glided through the open window and landed on the kitchen table.
Welcome home, William said.
Tough shit, the bird said.
Pointing to the sparkling fake diamond bracelet Dillon wore around his neck, Darryl whistled.
That’s some real pretty bling you’re sporting, there, big bird.
Turn out the light, Dillon said.
Downstairs in the pizzeria, Gina got ready to close.
Thanks for helping out, Chanise.
I’m unemployed and always wanted to work for free pizza.
I’m selling the business, Gina said.
Chanise removed her apron.
After how many generations slaved, uh, wrong word, sweated over a hot oven to make your family business succeed? After standing up to the Pizza King and Sal and Vic? You put too much of your life into this life.
Nothing’s the same, Chanise. Nothing’s going to be the same.
Tell me about it, Chanise said.
I’m sorry, Gina said.
That’s OK, you want me to turn out the light?
Not yet, Gina said, but soon.
Across the street William picked up his phone and punched in seven numbers.
Line two, you’re on the air, JayJay Bone said.
William stammered but finally got up enough courage to speak.
I yam what I yam an’ that’s all what I yam, he said.