Narrative of the Life of the Brown Boy and the White Man

The Brown Boy’s Flesh

66 the brown boy’s fLesh While being driven home in the silver car, toward the clear house down route 25A, the white man told the brown boy about a dessert he had at Pace’s. When he said the flavor, chocolate coffee bean gelato, the possibility of its taste had only a second to register before the shock of its sight. It was as black as your shirt. When the white man says this, the brown boy thought he was going to say: it was as black as you. the brown boy skips his skin and looks down at his shirt, the fabric a deep black, the color he imagined the white man spooning into his mouth at the end of dinner at the steak house. What a life the brown boy has. if he were there, he would have ordered a marinated steak, medium well, charred just enough to kill the meat’s run of blood. He wouldn’t have ordered anything like chocolate coffee bean gelato; but, if he saw it, he would have been fascinated by something so black for dessert. in fact, he would probably have taken it from the white man, giving it back to him for only a taste. ...