Pozer Senski slipped his shoes on like he always did when escaping from what was oh-so inescapable the night before. This felt different though, like he might want to stay. He and Linona had been dating for an entire week—quite a long run really. It had been three months since Ecuador. He made up his mind not to get back into contracting after that. Tina seemed to get it. She had not hunted him down like she always had before when he tossed his company cell.

Ever since childhood Pozer had been freakishly athletic, and he tried to have fun with it, like slipping on and lacing his shoes while he hopped. The Man in the Gray Suit had always told Mom that this was normal, a condition of ‘Posey’ being a ‘bio-mechanical savant’. The guidance counselor had encouraged him to play and had given him lots of physical and mental exercises to do. But he had always told him, “Remember Posey, you are special. You may yearn to express yourself athletically, but it would not be fair to the others. We must be fair.”

As he entered the kitchen at a hop he ducked into a shoulder roll and came up with his left sneaker double knotted, a smug grin on his face. The grin was immediately wiped away by the small brown frown that greeted him, “Are you fuckin’ retarded Yo?”

He eased himself up on one leg, raised up on the toes of that foot like a ballerina, and spun around with a gay wiggle, “I’m not wetarded, I’m spedzzal!”

Ruby just looked back up at him with a smirk, “Yeah Poze, yer shit be retarded alright. Wach you doin’ outta bed so soon—Big Mamma ain’t even popped da mornin’ bedspring yet!”

He sat down across the table from Ruby, Linona’s nine-year old girl, and smiled, “You shouldn’t disrespect your mother like that Ruby.”

Ruby snarled, “Sheeee, she got yo tireless ass disrespectin’ her ‘til tree Ay Em!”

“Look, Ruby, adults have their ways. How about if I get some DVD’s at work? My man Herby keeps a case of bootlegs for sale in his locker. You and me can stay up and watch movies tonight.”

Ruby’s voice was softer now, “Really Yo? You’d sit up and watch flicks with me?”

He placed his hand over hers, “Really; I’ve just got the day job today—until my fight actually. Terrence is giving me off at the club and paying me to train instead. I’ll be home from the gym at like nine, and your Momz won’t be home from the club ‘till Terrence drops her off at like three.”

Ruby was grinning, “Shit Yo, I know that’s right; two whole movies at least—get that Bourne shit; that read headed robot dude!”

He could not help himself, “I’m sure that bloodthirsty redneck Herby will have the whole set—I’ll bring ‘em all.”

They bumped fists and Ruby smiled, for the first time since he met her last weekend, “Hey Poze, you wanna eat before you do your retarded gettin’ up and runnin’ all over the place in the mornin’ shit?”

“Sure, what’s for breakfast?”

Ruby stood up and grinned, “We got Ruby’s Hookup is what we got.”

“What’s in it?”

Ruby was already turning toward the counter, “Step to the counter whiteboy en work the cabinets so I don’t have to climb up on the chair. This being a midget ‘cause I’m young is gettin’ old.”

They were now both standing on either side of the sink, with the refrigerator on his right and the stove on her left. Ruby pulled a wok out from underneath the sink and declared, “We eatin’ Chinese hookup dis mornin’. Bring down the keek-o-man sauce and the Smackin Raymond’s dumbass noodles.”

As he pulled the bricks of dried noodles and the soy sauce out of the cabinets Ruby was running water in the wok, “Some rich Korean muvafuca was up in hea fo a weekend en had ta cook his shit in hea—so I use this shit fo my Chinese hookup—redneck hookup go in da fryin’ pan, Mexican hookup I bake in the oven; en the original hookup is in the pot—dump dat shit in hea Poze—what da hell kina name is Pozer anyhow? You get all naked en greased up and flex while gay faɡɡots be skulkin’ on you, or what Yo?”

He was crushing the noodles and she was dumping the soy sauce, “How old are you kid?”

“Nigga, you call me kid again en I’ll bus a cap in yo big skinhead ass!”

“Okay Ruby, how old are you?”

“Grab the fake bacon bits—that’s the shit, right dare. En dat salad supreme shit too. Now we rollin’. Look, I’m within a month of nine, so lets expodite shit en say I’m nine, a’ight.”

The ingredients were beginning to swirl and release a pleasing odor as Ruby stirred with a plastic carryout spoon, “My Momz named me Posey, which means a kind of flower that people used to put in their pockets to keep from smelling before they invented bathtubs.”

Ruby gave him a pained look, “Now that’s some cruddy shit Yo!”

“Yeah, could you imagine never taking a bath and having flowers for cologne?”

“Oh sure, dat’s cruddy—but I was talkin’ ‘bout dat sick-ass gay name! W-T-F!”

He chuckled as she pointed to the refrigerator top, “Some puffin corn—not da shit wit the carmel, but the red cheese sprinkles on it. So Pozer, is like you crossed that gay shit with bulldozer right?”

“I guess so.”

“You know, I got mad at my mom—I know you call her Linona, but to me she’s Mom—over Ruby; not me, but the name attached to me. If I end up being pretty like her, with a name like that, I’ll just be a piece-of-ass—like an advertisement—‘come get dis shit here, she cute’. Oh hell no! I’m thinkin’ on the transgender solution.”

“Who you lookin’ at like they retarded retard! Least ways I don’t put my shoes on like a faɡɡot on fire and get punched in the head for a livin’!”

“Point, point.”

“Okay big boy, we almost there, now grab them snausages for humans up there, the fire hot ones. They in a vinegar solution that ‘ill give this the ‘hot en sour’ signature. You know you a cool dude Pozer. If I was a dude—I mean if I decide to become a dude—I would want to be just like you; only not white. That shit is ridiculous Yo! As pale as your ass is a vacation at the beach to see the honeys would probably be a life or death ordeal. Two hours in the sun Yo, en you be lookin’ like you been on the grill at Mickey Dees. Feel me?”

“Actually, as pale as I am, I never have had a bad sunburn.”

“Oh, I know yo ass be lyin’ on dat! Me—if a dude—I’d look a little more, you know, United Nations.”

They stopped their gourmet preparation and looked at each other, her coming to just above his waist, “Really, you like me?” he said.

She sneered, “I didn’t say I liked you retard, I said you are cool. Do I have to break it down for your dumbass?”

He grinned, “Nah, I got ya.”

“That big ape has got to go though. I’ll burn that ugly bitch off yo arm with Momma’s curlin’ iron one night” she squeaked in her child’s voice, as she nodded to the tattoo on his left shoulder.

“What do you mean, Sonny?”

She was now placing the hookup concoction on the stove top and firing up the gas burner, “Sheeee, thought his name was King Kong, not Sonny! Sun neva shined on dat sorry ass. His mamma probably kept him inside so people wouldn’t point en laugh.”

He leaned in a little and pointed to his tattoo, “That is Sonny Liston, most feared fighter of his day—knocked a dude’s eyebrow into the third row!”

“Whateva Pozetard—you still cool, despite that big scary ape on you arm. Now stir with this spoon as it starts to bubble so my ass doesn’t have to climb up on the chair—you know Mamma done wrecked that shit with her big butt en I don’ need ta be fallin’ face firs’ ta my doom just so yo dumbass can eat right.”

“Hey, Ruby, your Mom is a good person, and she cares about you a whole lot. You shouldn’t disrespect her.”

“Nigga, is you blind! Don’t tell me you didn’t notice. Shit, Terence need to hire badass dudes like you just ta keep the peace down at the club ‘cause a all dat big ole butt. I known she was special like that since I could talk. Mamma was always talking’ like she was some tweetie bird bitch until I came along and ‘Bam!’ there’s that big ole butt! Like that shit is my fault. One time when my uncle was home from prison—don’t leave the spoon in dumbass. That shit ‘ill melt. You see Uncle Milo, who taught me how to make hookup by the way, overheard Mamma givin’ me the bidness about how she be lookin’ like Miss America with a basketball in her belly walkin’ in to the baby joint, and she got wheeled out two feet wider. En Uncle Milo, he say, ‘Well girl, take that thing to the club and cash it in! Terrence sho as shit be lookin’ fo the next big thing!’

“En three long years later, here I iz, Uncle Milo back in da joint, Mamma gettin’ her booty rest, en me showin’ some big scary looking pozetard wth an even scarier lookin’ gorilla on his arm, how ta make hookup! This shit is unreal. I could not make this shit up Yo!”

She snatched the plastic spoon from his hand, “Hold me up over the stove dumbass. You can’t stir worth shit!”

He grabbed her by her tiny hips and held her in front of the stove, looking down over her shoulder at the brewing concoction he was about to eat before he took his ten mile run to the day job. He had always been somewhat of a teaser, and could not help himself, “You need to eat plenty of this too Ruby. You certainly don’t have much meat on your bones.”

“Why do you think we cookin’ so much, to feed my body en your dumbass brain. It’s on the boil, set me down and turn it off.”

He set Ruby up on the refrigerator top, turned off the burner, grabbed the wok, and sat down to eat at the table, leaving the girl stranded on top of the appliance. He leaned over and pulled a big wooden salad spoon out of the dish strainer and settled down to eat it all in front of the tiny girl on top of the appliance. She really was small for her age, about the size of a five-year old. Rather than get angry, she seemed shocked, looking at him wide-eyed as her slippered feet dangled in front of the freezer compartment, “Yo, that shit didn’t hurt?”

He looked up at her as he stirred and sniffed the steam that rose up from the wok full of hookup. “What do you mean?”

“That shit was boilin’; should a burnt your hands.”

He just slurped some hookup juice with some slimy noodles that warmed up his mouth, thinking back to the time his hand got burned on the grill when the Man in the Gray Suit had come over for a cookout. It had hurt, but not near as bad as it seemed it should based on how Mom carried on and screamed; pointing at the blistered hand that smelled like it was cooked. He was beginning to get caught up in the hysteria when he ‘felt’ a thought, “Come here Posey.”

He looked over at The Man in the Gray Suit, seated in the lounge chair with his drink on the patio. He pushed his mother aside. He was only perhaps six at the time, as small as Ruby, but he was already stronger than Mom. He walked up to his guidance counselor and extended his burned hand, still steaming like this wok full of hookup was now. The Man in the Gray Suit took his hand and spoke words to him in a strange language he did not understand. In his mind was the image of the condor soaring over mountains, deserts and even oceans; a condor that soared so high that the inky star-specked blackness of space touched its back. Then they held hands for a long moment while he dreamed his condor dream, Fly Posey. Fold your wings in upon yourself and renew…

“Are you truly retarded Yo!” Ruby’s voice echoed through the kitchen.

He was coming out of his trance even as he emptied the steaming wok juice down his throat. He was holding the wok, so warm and snug between his palms, and tasting the succulent juice that sealed the membranes of his mouth and throat, and bathed his belly from within, but did not burn. He placed the wok down on the table, empty of liquid, but with plenty of puffed corn, sausage, and noodles, and let out a tremendous belch.

Ruby crinkled up her face, “That shit is disgusting Yo. Why aren’t you burned up?”

He pulled Ruby down off the refrigerator and set her in his seat, her plastic spoon still in hand, “That is something I learned hunting polar bears with the Inuit. Do not try this at home. I am a trained professional.”

He then stepped back and made a muscle, “The Gun Show is over kids, and be sure to finish your breakfast.”

Ruby was still sitting looking at him in stunned silence. She then seemed to shake herself awake, “Oh, you are definitely retarded Pozer. She then looked into the wok, “Nigga, you hogged up all the bacon bits. That is the delicacy part you greedy slope-head freak.”

He patted her on the back, grabbed his webpack, and kissed her on top of her head like Mom had always done for him at breakfast, “I’ll get you all four Bourne movies, and a ticket to my fight—gotta roll girl. Tell your momz about our plans.”

He did not look back. He knew though, that Ruby being speechless meant something, hopefully something good.

He hit the sidewalk running, feeling really good about speaking to a child for once. He had never really known a kid, other than himself. Mom had not let him play with other children because the Man in the Gray Suit said it would be dangerous, because Posey was so strong.

Later, as an older teen and young adult, he did date, but it was controlled, arranged by the social worker lady that had come to look after him after Mom had died. Her name was Tina, a tall, beautiful Asian lady with movie star hair and incredible fashion sense. He liked being seen with her, for people to think they were ‘together’. Tina said that could never happen though, because she was his ‘social worker.’

When he turned eighteen Tina came to him and told him that she only did ‘social work’ as a charity, that she was really a human resources manager for some big multinational company called Executive Solutions Corporation. He wanted to be a boxer but went to work for Tina instead.

Should have, would have, if I could have…

The women that Tina set him up with were always professionals, and she never let him get close to people in their operations zone.

He felt fantastic; warm inside, and not just because of the steaming broth. It was a cool spring day and he could not wait to work up a steady sweat. He ran light and quick for a few miles uptown. It was about six-thirty when he hit uptown. He could not wait to take the grade up the North Side. It just seemed so natural for him to run uphill.

He was pounding pavement now at a good pace, listening for cars rather than looking either way when he crossed. When he darted across Liberty some sneaky foreign economy car that did not make a polite amount of noise came ripping into his knees. But his knees weren’t there. Pozer hurdled it effortlessly and hit the asphalt in full stride, as if he had practiced the life-saving maneuver a million times. After that, and the hoots and hollers from the two Mexican construction workers walking the other way, he just had to have a good time. He didn’t care if it was going to end up hurting his bag-work later that night after work. He hurdled every mail box he came across, and ran zigzags at full speed between the parked cars.

As he broke into a flat out run down the sidewalk two cops were coming out of a coffee shop to their cars. He veered to avoid hitting them and just ‘oinked’ for the fun of it, and picked up speed, sprinting like they were on his heels.