“I ain’t trying make no excuses, but when you grow up around people—your aunts and uncles, your grandparents, your brothers and sisters, your friends—all of them saying things that you don’t even think about being wrong or right, you don’t put that title on yourself. Like you remember when they used to play The Ten Commandants on television every Easter? And there’s this part where this boy tells his granddaddy to look at the Nubians? My granddaddy on my mama’s side would always make this joke about them not being Nubians, they just, well, you know what he said. And I used to laugh at that joke because it was my granddaddy saying it. I never thought, I never had to think how somebody like you would feel about that joke. Then when I got older I stopped thinking about it, because if that joke was fucked up, then what did that say about my granddaddy? What did that say about me that I laughed at it?” Buddy Lee said.
Ike downed his shot. The cognac burned in a comforting, familiar way. For a moment he was twenty-one again.
“That you ignorant as hell,” Ike said.
“Yeah, well, I guess that’s a pretty good assessment,” Buddy Lee said.
“It’s easier to keep your head in the sand than it is to try and see things from somebody else’s point of view. There’s a reason why they say ignorance is bliss,” Ike said.
“So you do think I’m racist,” Buddy Lee said.
“I think maybe for the first time in your life you’re seeing what the world looks like for people that don’t look like you. I mean you still ignorant as hell, but you learning. But then, so am I. We both learning. We both done said and did shit that we wish we could take back. I think if you figure out at one point in your life you was a terrible person, you can start getting better. Start treating people better. Like as long as you wouldn’t laugh at that joke now, I think you on the right road. Same as if the next time I get offered a drink I don’t go the hell off and just walk away, instead of jacking somebody up because they had the nerve to think I was in a gay bar to meet somebody,” Ike said. He held his shot glass up and motioned for the bartender.
Buddy Lee downed his shot, too. He gasped as he sat the glass down on the bar.
“Goddamn that shit will take the paint off a ball hitch. I guess you’re right. Feels like we waited pretty late in the day to start learning shit,” Buddy Lee said. The bartender brought them two more shots.
“Day ain’t over yet,” Ike said.
* * *
Ike drove them back to the barbershop. The parking lot was virtually deserted. There was a black Jaguar parked near the barbershop. The only other vehicle in the parking lot was Buddy Lee’s truck. Ike shut off the truck.
“Look like everyone went home early,” Buddy Lee said.
“Slice probably sent everybody home. Mr. Get Down is hometown royalty. Fools would be all up in his grill asking for autographs and shit,” Ike said.
“He can shut down the whole strip mall?” Buddy Lee asked.
“He owns the strip mall,” Ike said.
* * *
When they entered the barbershop Tariq was sitting in the last chair near the curtains. He had his hand in his lap like he was sitting for an old daguerreotype photo. His eyes were shining and bestial. Slice was sitting in a metal folding chair near the entrance to the adjoining restaurant. His bodyguard was standing behind Tariq as if he were about to give him a trim.
“You got fifteen minutes,” Slice said. Ike took a step toward Tariq.
“You can’t touch him. Ask your questions,” Slice said. Ike stepped back. Buddy Lee scratched his chin.
“We know you know where Tangerine is. Like we said, we ain’t trying to hurt her. We just need to talk to her,” Buddy Lee said. Tariq’s chest rose and fell in rapid succession.
“We can’t touch you now. But you have to leave eventually,” Ike said. Tariq flinched.
“I’m with Slice. You heard what he said,” Tariq said. His previous formidability was gone. He sounded like a kid asserting his allegiance to the biggest bully on the playground. Ike nodded at Buddy Lee.
“His son is dead. Mine, too. Do you really think I give a fuck who you with? You tell us where Tangerine is and you never have to wonder if that noise outside your window is me coming for you with a pair of pliers and an ice pick,” Ike said. Tariq considered his hands as if this were the first time he’d ever noticed them. If Slice was perturbed by the threat, he was keeping his feelings to himself as he scrolled through his phone.
“Look, we trying to help her. Because the people who killed our boys are still looking for her, and they ain’t gonna stop. Wherever she went, it ain’t fucking far enough,” Buddy Lee said.