Our Nana

A Story by Timothy Scholar

Our Nana(Fiction): Mary Johnson soothes the local unwed mother in Brooklyn New York. Includes The Place of Genius and U' Man

Our Nana

By Timothy Conerson

Cover by Timothy Conerson

The Place of Genius

Robert hauled his knapsack down into the Hoyt Street station on the A and C line. Part of the station has been closed off since 1984. Robert, or Bob-o as the street people call him, has been living in the subways for almost as long as he can remember. Bob-o took out a couple of pretzels wrapped in napkins to snack on before he laid down for the night.

While breaking a pretzel apart to eat Bob-o spotted a rat standing in the corner with its nose in the air. He kicks at the rat to chase it away.

“Get outta here. Looking like Hoover, all fat and round with a little head. Sniffing around my business.”

Bob-o read a passage from a newspaper left on one of the trains on his regular begging route. The article criticized politicians that wanted to send more troops into Iraq. Bob-o smirked as he began to have another one of his self dialogues.

Don’t these writers get it? They are the ruling class. It’s straight out of Plato’s Republic book 5, or is it book 6. The rulers of a state must manage all aspects of the state including the population. There has to be the right amount of merchants, servants and so on. Right now we have too many servants, so old Bush and the crew is thinning out the herd. They send off poor people to die and the servant class maintains its structure. Yessss. Jordan, Saudi Arabia, Israel and the rest are doing the same thing, sending their poor young men and women hoping that they too will die, especially the radicals. Hell is on the surface of the earth, not beneath it.

Bob-o laughed to himself as he unrolled his blanket. He laid down using his knapsack as a pillow.

Bob-o slept well before waking up to the noise of the morning rush. He walked up the stairs and over the flimsy do not enter banner that stretched across them. Bob- o rose up to street level and took out his cup with “GIVE WHAT YOU CAN” fancily hand painted onto it with some old paint that Bob-o found one day. He held out the cup to begin to collect for that day.

U’Man

“OPEN FOR BIZ” shouts Derrick.

Oh, excuse me, you have no idea who Derrick is do you? Derrick Simms is the thirty five year old independent caterer that takes summers off to cook for his crown heights community at bargain rates. He usually begins on June days like the one he is standing in right now. These days are full of energy because the New York City schools have just closed until September.

As the smoke drifts from Derrick’s barrel shaped grill down the street in all directions, people trickle toward his front yard.

“Uman let me get a hot dog!”

“Here you go Dee. How’s the family?”

“Good, but not as good as your dogs.”

Another man steps up.

“Two burgers Uman, one for my mom and one for me. Give me the larger one.”

“I’ll hook you both up. There you go, two fat ones with three star sauce.”

A stranger walking through the block slows down to see what all of the commotion is about. A couple steps up to Derrick.

“Yo Uman, this is Trina, my new girl.”

“Hey, how you all doing?”

“Fine. Honey tell him what you want.”

“Can I have a piece of chicken and one piece of bread?” asked Trina sheepishly.

“Young lady you can have anything you want. Just let me ask you one thing. Do you like him a lot or a little?”

“I really dig him,” said Trina blushing.

Derrick grabs the barbecue sauce bottle with four stars marked on it.

“There you go young lady. Be well.”

Brian saw Derrick give the extra special sauce and winked his eye. The stranger approaches Derrick once the small crowd dissipates.

“Sir?”

“Yes sir how may I help you?”

“I was passing through and noticed your set up here. Can I ask why they call you Uman?’

“I made a turkey burger for one of my neighbors with a new sauce that I’d just created and it was so good he blurted out You man, instead of you da man. A nick name was born.”

“So this is that good?”

“Have a burger on the house.”

The stranger takes a bite and about four chews before he tasted it.

“S**t! Oh my, excuse me. I didn’t mean to curse.”

While explaining how good the burger was the stranger shoves a fist full of crumpled bills into the money jar hanging on Derricks gate.

Our Nana

Mary Johnson sat down in her front yard on an old fashioned office chair. She watched Shauntel force her way down the street pushing a baby stroller. Shauntel’s hair was pulled back into a pony tail in an attempt to keep it neat. Mrs. Johnson could tell that Shauntel just had a fight with her boyfriend. Shauntel had a wild look in her eyes like she wanted to leave, but had no place to go. Mrs. Johnson stopped Shauntel before she could get off of the block. “Shaun let me see that boy!” Shauntel rolled her son into Mrs. Johnson’s front yard.

“What’s his name again?”

“Deandre Jr.”

“Ooooh, He’s such an adorable little boy.”

“Thank you.”

Johnson gently grabbed Deandre’s little hand and looked down into his face.

“You are just a cutie aren’t you…aren’t you little handsome man.”

Johnson looked into Shauntel’s eyes.

“How are you doing girl?”

“Fine, I was just going to the store.”

“That store been there for years and gonna be there for more, but your nana won’t always be here. Have a seat for a minute.”

Deandre began to coo and smile at Johnson.

“See, the boy said let’s sit with our nana for a bit.”

Shauntel sat down to talk to everyone’s nana.

“So tell me young lady, how are you feeling?’

“I’m okay.”

“You are a great one then. When I had my first one, I almost went stir crazy.”

“You?” Shauntel asked with surprise.

“Yes ma’am. You know it never ended, the feeding, the comforting, the watching over, and then there was my man to take care of.”

“Yeah! Men are such…”

“Jackasses?”

“Yes that.”

“They really can’t help it baby, but I can promise you that it gets better. I’ll tell you something most don’t say out loud, the Lord gave women a little extra stuff for dealing with all of it. Been giving us more since Sarah.”

“I don’t know. It all feels like a mistake sometimes. I don’t know.”

“I’ll tell you what young lady, when you feel like that you come talk to nana and when you need anything come to us.”

“Who is us?”

“The women on the block. You didn’t know that we’re your aunties and sisters?”

“I don’t know about that.”

Nana reached over, squeezed Shauntel’s hand and looked her in her eyes.

“Come to us.”