Read Online Monster's Chef by Jervey Tervalon - Free Book Online Page B

north, I began to worry as I sat across from Monster in the seat that faces backward. I tried not to glance in Monster’s direction, knowing if I did I’d be snared by him and unable to look away from the horrifically beautiful car accident that was his face.
    â€œWhere are you from?” he asked.
    â€œI’ve been working in Manhattan for the last ten years,” I said, looking at my hands like I was surprised to have them.
    â€œNo, where were you born?”
    â€œI was born in Germany. My dad was in the army.”
    â€œOh,” Monster said, disappointment echoing in his voice; I guess my answer wasn’t what he wanted to hear. “Did you like Germany?”
    â€œWe moved a lot, I don’t remember much about the country other than it was very cold.”
    â€œHave you visited since?”
    â€œYes, a few times.”
    â€œHow do they treat black people?”
    My mind ground to a halt.
    â€œWhat?”
    â€œHow do the Germans treat black people?”
    â€œI couldn’t say I noticed anything particularly racist.”
    â€œSome places don’t treat black people very well. That makes me uncomfortable because some of the cats in my band, they don’t get respect and that makes me angry. Russia, for instance, isn’t a place I’ll play again because I’d have to leave all my black personnel home, and I can’t see doing that.”
    He paused but looked as though he was on the verge of saying something else.
    I assumed he thought I was black, black man to black man, explaining the difficulty that black folks have in the world. Then for a moment I got the impression he didn’t think of himself as black, and that I, with my light-skinned ass, had become the single black man in the back of the Rolls.
    â€œMy whole life I’ve tried to be a bridge between groups of people because I see all sides. I’ve evolved. I’ve become something different; I’m not bound by what holds people back. You see what I’m saying?”
    I didn’t, but I nodded anyway.
    â€œWhen I was black, I couldn’t see it, the big picture; then when I changed, it became clear to me and I’ve never looked back.”
    â€œYou changed?” I asked.
    â€œIt just happened. I became something different. It happened at first internally, then the changes radiated outward. Mr. Chow said it was inevitable, that I evolved at such a fundamental level that my appearance would also reflect it.”
    â€œWell, what started it, this change?”
    I realized where we were going, and at Pismo Beach we pulled off at the Arroyo Grande exit and headed for the ridiculously long line at the In-N-Out Burger.
    I thought, as the Rolls idled in line, that Monster had forgotten my question, but I was wrong.
    â€œI changed when I made my first hundred million. I wasn’t black anymore, nothing was going to hold me back from finding my destiny.”
    I must have looked confused because he immediately began explaining himself.
    â€œI know it sounds silly to say that once I made my money I stopped being black, but it’s true. I became a different person and different rules apply to me.”
    I wanted to ask another question about the rules, but the driver had reached the window to order.
    â€œMonster, what would you like?” the driver asked.
    Monster clapped his hands together with childlike anticipation.
    â€œSix orders of fries and four animal-style grilled cheeses, two vanilla shakes. You want something?” he said, nodding at me as though he’d forgotten my name.
    â€œJust a root beer and fries.”
    â€œGood,” he said. “I’m glad you’re not eating cow. I can’t stand that, cows are sacred to me.”
    I nodded in agreement, glad to make the man who paid the bills happy, but I didn’t know how much happier he could be, the way he tore into that gigantic order of fast food.
    Monster sat back, wiping his face