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Back Liliane Save as PDF
Chapters (31)
  1. Cover
  2. Title Page
  3. Dedication
  4. Contents
  5. Room in the Dark I
  6. Fawns of the Diaspora Court Liliane in Paris, While Tabou Combo Whispers “Coq Qualité” in Her Ears
  7. Room in the Dark II
  8. “I Usedta Drink, Smoke and Do the Hoochie-Koo,” or What’s a Girl to Do When Her Mother Looks Like Ruth Brown
  9. Room in the Dark III
  10. “El Bochinche” es que only Fe Cortijo Knows or All the LeBron Brothers Know If Victor-Jésus María Sang Lili to Her Freedom
  11. Room in the Dark IV
  12. And Where Is Garnett Mimms?
  13. Room in the Dark V
  14. I Know Where Kansas City Is, But Did Wilbert Harrison Ever Get There?
  15. Room in the Dark VI
  16. Zoom Went the Strings of Liliane’s Heart, But Arsenio Rodriguez Could Have Told Her the Music Sounds Just as Sweet When We’re Blind and Still We See
  17. Room in the Dark VII
  18. I Know Where the E Train Stops But I’m “Sendin’ Out an S.O.S.” and I’m Not Edwin Starr Either
  19. Room in the Dark VIII
  20. “Happy, Happy Birthday, Baby” or Wouldn’t It Be Great If the Lead Singer of The Crests Wasn’t a White Boy and I Could Be My Mother?
  21. Room in the Dark IX
  22. Every Time My Lil World Seems Blue, I Just Haveta Look at You and Learn Eye-Hand Coordination
  23. Room in the Dark X
  24. “That’s Why I Love Her So and Yeah, Yeah, Yeah, I Want to Know” or Why Jackie Wilson Died in Silence
  25. Room in the Dark XI
  26. There’s No Use Cryin’ “Forever” or Hyacinthe Returns from a Very Blue Holiday for Real B(l)ack at Ya
  27. Room in the Dark XII
  28. Lollie Struts Her Stuff Thru “The Sea of Love” or the Brides of Frankenstein Catch the Bouquet
  29. By Ntozake Shange
  30. Acknowledgments
  31. Copyright

My hands were small fists, knotted round the earth I’d gathered. Jean-René glanced at me once. “We’re going to Fez. If you want to save that dirt, there’s a small box in the back. Wipe the blood from your arms and face or we’ll never get a hotel room.” My eyes followed the rise of his cheekbones, the arrogance of his slender nose, and the flippant curve of his lips, those finely wrought muscles in his forearm. Yes, the box, save the soil for earth paintings. Wipe the blood away. Watch Jean-René take the road, soaring, an ebony eagle, round mimosa and hibiscus and palms. Jean-René smoldering like Mont St. Pierre, but this volcano was holding the eruption for me. The woman shedding blood and soil in the backseat of an Antillean eagle’s flight to Fez.

I liked to kiss Jean-René on curves or steep downhill glides. I liked the wandering tree limbs to let their shadows enter his mouth as my tongue did. Shadows and tongue skipping and sliding over his pearl teeth and blackberry lips. Dangerous, you say? Mais non. You’re talking to the woman who was physically searched three times at Kennedy Airport because the buzzer went off whenever I went through the screening device. I had forgotten to take my ben-wa balls out. They’re no threat to international security. When they’re working, the last thought on my mind is hijacking a plane. Why should I swipe an airplane when young Guadeloupean peacocks stalk about Paris and fly me to Morocco in the middle of the night. All he needs is a piano and me. I carry my own entertainment: color, wine, brushes, pencils. My ben-wa balls attracted no attention at Orly Airport. I guess they could see the contentment of my face, or smell my pleasure. I always assume people can smell how happy I am, how full of love I can be. That’s how Jean-René found me in Paris at that fast-food souvlaki place. He could smell my joy, he said. I told him I heard Eric Dolphy in his eyes.

Room in the Dark II

——— The distance is not really so great.

——— But that’s Brooklyn.

——— And…

——— You think he goes there on purpose?

——— He lives there, you say.

——— Right.

———

——— Well, I guess, that’s the end of that.

——— Yet, you have no problem going to Montreal, Paris, and you feel Brooklyn is too far away.

——— It’s not there.

———

———

——— Brooklyn is not there?

——— No, it’s just the bridge.

——— What bridge?

——— Well, how many do you know about?

——— The Bay Bridge, the Chesapeake Bay Bridge, the Verrazano-Narrows Bridge, le Pont-Royal…

——— So now we’re “sur le pont d’Avignon.” [They sing together.]

———

——— If you gonna sing it like that won’t nobody find it. Avignon’ll disappear from history you sing like that.

——— How does it go?

——— What?

——— The bridge?

——— The bridge? Went somewhere with Art Blakey. You can’t hear it?