Read Online Only the Strong by Jabari Asim - Free Book Online

had to see that in the shine parlor. But that man had it coming. You don’t. Go on back to school and study that economics.”
    â€œThank you,” the young man said. His breathing had almost returned to normal. “Thank you.” He turned and moved toward the entrance. Guts stayed outside.
    He had been seconds from snapping the bartender’s neck. Guts blamed it on the bouncers for pissing him off. He went to the parking lot, thinking he might take a spin to calm down and clear his head. Leaning forward to unlock the car, he paused at his reflection in the window. Pearl insisted that she saw a matinee idol when she looked at his face. But he knew that most people saw what the bartender had seen: a bogeyman.
    Pearl thought he just needed some friends. People would regard him differently if they got to know him in a comfortable setting. He got along with the men at the cabstand, the sign painters at Black Swan. But calling them friends was a stretch.
    â€œYour closest friend is a 90-year-old man,” Pearl had said.
    â€œMr. Logan? He’s 83.”
    â€œHe’s old as Methuselah.”
    Guts opened the car, started the engine, and turned on the radio. Broadcasting from the KSD studio, the Man in the Red Vest was deep into his shift. As Miles Davis’s “Kind of Blue” began, Guts got out and leaned back against the Plymouth.
    Two Coltrane ballads and one Ellington medley later, Crenshaw strolled up with three ladies arm-in-arm. He was grinning and more than a little tipsy.
    â€œLadies, this is Guts Tolliver, man about town. Guts, you’ve already met Summer, and this here is Spring and Autumn. That ain’t their real names, but that’s what I’m callin’ ’em. Too bad we couldn’t get a Winter too. I’m not just an All-Star, baby. I’m a man for all seasons. My good man, could you kindly give us a lift to the Park Plaza? It’s time to let it Rip.”
    Guts’s rearview mirror showed only blackness. He had the windows rolled down to dissipate the perfume clouds Crenshaw’s “girlfriends” had left behind. The Man in the Red Vest was still going strong on the radio. Certain he wasn’t being tailed, Guts turned onto Margaretta. He always entered and left through the back door, and he never failed to park his car in the locked garage behind his home. Still, he customarily drove past the front of his house before calling it a night, just to make sure nothing was amiss. His street was quiet and the houses dark, except for porch lights and the occasional illuminated room. Then he saw something that made him turn off the music and pause quietly in front of his house. The light was on in the living room.
    He had instructed Pearl to leave on only the porch light and to be sure to set his alarm. Guts eased off the brake, barely touching the gas until he was a good distance past his house. He turned the corner and drove up the alley. He killed the headlights, pulled in behind his garage, and turned off the engine. The basement door showed no signs of forced entry. Neither did the back door, which he unlocked before stepping carefully into the kitchen. He could hear the Temptations and the Supremes crooning on his hi-fi. Guts slid along the hallway, his back against the wall. Slowly he peeked around the corner…and saw Pearl in all her naked glory. She was standing on a chair, hanging a picture on the wall. She sang along with the record.
    â€œI’m gonna make you love me. Yes I will, yes I will.”
    â€œPearl.”
    She spun on the chair and nearly lost her balance. Guts stuck out a hand and steadied her.
    â€œTell me,” she said. “How does a man as big as you move without making any noise?”
    â€œPractice. What are you doing?”
    Pearl turned and went back to work. “What does it look like I’m doing? Hanging this artwork I bought for my man. Every time I come in here and see these blank walls,