Back Cosmogramma
Chapters (17)
  1. PERCIPI
  2. CIRROSTRATUS
  3. SCARECROW
  4. COSMOGRAMMA
  5. BUCK
  6. CONTROL
  7. YOU MEETS YOU
  8. SEED
  9. DARK MATTERS
  10. NOCTURNE
  11. NOMMO
  12. THE SANKOFA PRINCIPLE
  13. LINK
  14. THE DIFFERENCE BETWEEN ME AND YOU
  15. UTOMA
  16. ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS
  17. FOOTNOTES

‘Let’s get these off you then,’ I say in the most cheerful voice I can manage, hearing myself sound like a nurse. I bend in front of him. His odour is thick, soupy, but I unbutton his jeans, grab the elastic of his boxers, pull both past his hips, Sherwin lifting in order to help, then all the way down to his ankles, over his socks and into a sodden, acrid heap in my hands. He watches me all the way, even though I’m bowing my head now, it’s as though he can see what I’m feeling, the way I’m trying not to notice his penis, or the rope around his wrists, though it must be pretty obvious because I don’t lift my head from the clothes. Even when I stand I simply ball them up and put them in the dirty clothes bag. I pull the drawstring and face the bathroom where I can hear Danny running water. I wonder what’s taking him so long.

‘Can’t even look at me then?’

I’m startled, and then I have to.

‘No …’ My smile doesn’t last. ‘Just waiting …’

‘Nicki. You know this is wrong. Let me go.’

‘No, Sherwin …’ I step towards him, stop. ‘You know I can’t.’

‘I won’t …’ he says, and the water stops running. He shuts his mouth, lets his head fall. His bare legs are dark tree roots. I take two steps away from him, and then Danny is coming down the small passage, legs bent like a cowboy, holding the bowl. Water slops from either side.

Danny puts the bowl down in front of Sherwin, between his feet. There’s a cloth floating beneath the bubbles. I take it and begin to wash him, not avoiding his penis, instead telling myself it’s another part of him, knees or toes. Steam rises like dry ice. He forces a grim smile at the floor while this is happening, not looking at me. It must be embarrassing for him too. Danny sits with his back against the sofa, opposite us, pointing the gun. I snake the sweatshirt over Sherwin’s head, wash his chest, beneath his arms, his upper back and shoulders. I drop the washcloth into the bowl and push it away, take the crowbar from my back and place it beside me, untie the ropes. While he flexes his limbs, I pick up the crowbar and join Danny on the sofa.