Between The Bell Part 2
photo loboblanca.com
…Base was at the top of the stairs, looking down. I was at the bottom of the stairs, looking up. The crowd was loud. Squeaky girls shrilly screeched about little sirs. Nerds nerded out. Jocks jockeyed for juxtaposition. Valley Girls “oh my gawddded” at perceived injustices, a 68% on a test, the slow melt of Milli Vanilli, and who said, he said, she said. Security secured. Flirts flirted. Shoes shuffled, socks scuffled. The hey y’alls, hey y’alled. The “Wat up god” boys, what up godded. It all swelled to a concert’s roar. Base had the stage, the crowd, the stairwell, and the acoustics, and all my attention. He angled his body slightly to the right. The invisible beat of Louis Armstrong’s drummer started up slowly, the trumpets squeaked out goodness, a piano floated upwards and Base wound up his arm like a jazz singer and snapped once to the invisible, palpable beat.
His raspy, throaty voice crooned:
“When the clock strikes.” Ahhhhhh!
He took one step down and snapped his finger again:
“Half past six, babe.”
See the classic video below
He took another step down, the crowd hurriedly parted, sensing greatness as he continued his sashay down his makeshift, make-believe stage, maintaining massive eye contact while my eyes scattered. I kept moving forward, pushed by the surging crowd seeking landing. I walked by Base, my eyes locked forward as his locked eyes lasered into my side. My face felt the heat, and my blood boiled to a brown man blush. “Moon Man!” he shouted. The crowd carried him down as the surge carried me up.
Base was the Ace of Bass, the voice of Ray Charles summoning Louis Armstrong. I was Moon Man. It reached the point where I would take the palm of my hand to measure the distance from my forehead to my chin to see if my face was really the dimension of a crescent moon. I couldn’t even span the distance with my hand. Mom always reassured my long face: “Your face isn’t long, sweetheart.”
Base saw my sister in the hallway, recognized her and called out to his sidekick that always walked with him, his one-man fan club: “Hey! That’s Moon Man’s sister!” Without blinking my sister sternly said: “Don’t call him that. That’s my brother!” He disappeared into the crowd.
It’s great to…Talk About The Monster. It brings him down to size. Do you remember your high school fears? Comment Below.
May is Mental Health Wellness Awareness Month. Visit the following website for more information.
Face the Base! Talk About The Monster.