“There it goes,” Reggie said.
Then it died out. It was quiet. At some point that day, I'd heard my last lawn mower until next year. Lawn mowers all summer, and now they were finally silent. If your shit wasn't in shape by now, it was never going to be.
“Are you ready to go back to the city?” I asked him.
My brother took another sip. “Yeah, I'm pretty sick of Burger King.”
We drank. A gray Volvo came around the corner. They were playing “Ain't No Stoppin' Us Now” at loud volume. As if it could have been otherwise. We held the beers behind our backs. I couldn't see who was inside but I waved. You never know who might be at the wheel, and how close you are to them.
Late that night, when the fires were long down to ash and the last limes were shipwrecked at the bottoms of the last drinks, and all the lights were out, I was still awake in my bed. Like I always was. The shadows from the trees trembled on the ceiling. Next year, Reggie was going to get the bed by the window. Even Stephen until the end of time. I thought, It wasn't that bad, sleeping in the other bed. I'd get used to it.
I thought about school.
I had a week to get a new plan together. I had to get some new records. I was tired of all my tapes. I needed new clothes, too. First thing Tuesday, I was going to head down to the Village and check out Bleecker Bob's and Tower to track down that Live Skull record, and then head over to Canal Jeans and get some new clothes. It came to me in a flash: combat boots. Why couldn't I wear combat boots? The dress code said we couldn't wear sneakers to school, but there was nothing about combat boots. Like leather ties—we had to wear ties, but there was no rule specifically forbidding leather ties, so people wore them all the time and the administration couldn't say anything about it. Unless they changed the Student Handbook over the summer. I'd cross that bridge when I got to it. First day of school, I'd walk in with a new jacket, some plaid New Wave number, and my new pants, and combat boots. Start things off right. Girls would take this as a sign I was different. That was another thing: make out with three girls a semester. September, October, November, December. Four months. That came out to one every five or six weeks. At least! Spring semester was longer, so that was like one every seven weeks. Six girls. Quite the regimen. Was that too ambitious? I could do it. People called me Benji but that didn't mean I wasn't Ben. A lot had happened over the summer. It didn't work out the way I had envisioned but you had to admit some stuff happened. I got my first job, and now if someone said, Hey, look at Benji's right arm, it's bigger than his left because he jerks off so much, I could say, No, that's from scooping ice cream. You have no idea what a relief it was to have an excuse for a question no one would ever ask. I got my braces off. I kissed Melanie Downey and touched her tit. Not under her shirt, but still. I was definitely more together than I was at the start of the summer. It didn't seem like that much time had passed, but I had to be a bit smarter. Just a little. Look at the way I was last Labor Day. An idiot! Fifteen looks at fourteen and says, That guy was an idiot. And fifteen looks at eight and says, That guy knew so little. Why can't fifteen and three-quarters look back at fifteen and a half and say, That guy didn't know anything. Because it was true. Two a semester. But it had to be two different girls. Or not. No need to go crazy. But definitely Tuesday, hit the Village and get this year started right. I'd be sixteen in November, old enough to get into CBGB's and Irving Plaza. Finally start seeing some concerts. Go to more parties. That was the key. I had to go to more parties. Other schools' parties, where I had no rep. Crash, whatever. Lay off the Cokes. I could do it. It was going to be a great year. I was sure of it. Isn't it funny? The way the mind works?
PERMISSIONS ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
“Top of the World” by Richard Carpenter and John Bettis
© 1972 Almo Music Corp. and Nails Music. Copyright renewed.
All rights controlled and administered by Almo Music Corp. (ASCAP)
Used by permission. All Rights Reserved.
“Now I Gotta Wet 'cha”
Words and Music by O'Shea Jackson
© 1992 WB Music Corp. and Gangsta Boogie Music
All rights on behalf of Gangsta Music. Administered by WB Music Corp.
All Rights Reserved (contains samples from “Aqua Boogie” and “Get Out of
My Life Woman” by George Clinton, Jr., Bootsy Collins, Bernard Worrell
and Allen Toussaint).
All Rights Reserved. Used by permission of Alfred Publishing Co., Inc.
“Oh Babe What Would You Say”
Words and music by E.S. Smith
© 1972 (Renewed) Chappell Music Ltd.
All Rights Reserved. Used by permission of Alfred Publishing Co., Inc.
“Here We Go”
Words and music by Joseph Simmons and Darryl McDaniels
© 1983 Rabasse Music Ltd.
All rights administered by Warner/Chappell Music Ltd.
All Rights Reserved. Used by permission of Alfred Publishing Co., Inc.
Acknowledgments
I'd like to thank my family and all the good people of Azurest, Sag Harbor Hills, and Ninevah for all the adventures, and especially my brother Clarke, who is the best. George Chavez, owner of Big Olaf Ice Cream, helped by giving me three summers of research for chapter three. He was a great boss and if you're in the neighborhood, you should stop in for a cone. Tell 'em Chipp sent you.
A shout-out to the old crew: Jeff Goins, Billy Pickens, Julius Ford, Lee Bostic, and Evan Cotman. I hope you all are well and BB free.
A shout-out to the new crew: Kevin Young, Richard Nash, Nathan Englander, and Nicky Dawidoff. Your help on the book is very much appreciated. Also, no BBs for you.
A million debts are owed to superagent and superfriend Nicole Aragi, and those wily desperadoes Lily Oei and Jim Hanks.
Doubleday is awesome, and Doubleday people are the most awesome of all. It's an honor to be published by the likes of William Thomas, Alison Rich, and Melissa Ann Danaczko. It has been a lovely ten years.
I am lucky to have received support from the Mrs. Giles Whiting Foundation and the John D. and Catherine T MacArthur Foundation over the years. Truly, “This program was made possible by.” The Cullman Center for Scholars and Writers was immeasurable help, and I'd like to thank Jean Strouse, Adriana Nova, Betsy Bradley, and Pamela Leo for making it such a swell place.
And much much love to Natasha and Maddie.
DOUBLEDAY
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses,
organizations, places, events, and incidents either are the
product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously.
Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or
locales is entirely coincidental.
Copyright © 2009 by Colson Whitehead
All Rights Reserved
Published in the United States by Doubleday, an imprint of
The Doubleday Publishing Group, a division of Random
House, Inc., New York.
www.doubleday.com
Page 253 constitutes an extension of this copyright page.
DOUBLEDAY is a registered trademark and the DD colophon is
a trademark of Random House, Inc.
Endpaper map by Virginia Norey
LIBRARY OF CONGRESS CATALOGING-IN-PUBLICATION DATA
Whitehead, Colson, 1969–
Sag Harbor : a novel / Colson Whitehead. — 1st ed.
p. cm.
1. African American teenage boys—Fiction. 2. Adolescence—
Fiction. 3. Sag Harbor (N.Y.)—Fiction. I. Title.
PS3573.H4768S35 2009
813′.54—dc22
2008013510
eISBN: 978-0-385-52939-6
v3.0
Colson Whitehead, Sag Harbor
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