Free Suder by Percival Everett

“I’m sorry. He’s crazy lately.”
    I turn to Thelma. “Crazy? I’m not crazy and I’m sure as hell not blind.”
    â€œLet’s talk-” begins Bill.
    â€œAre you ready, Bill?” I ask.
    â€œWhat for?”
    I punch Bill in the face and Thelma jumps on my back. I shake her off and chase Bill across the room and I tackle him. His head hits the doorframe and he starts to bleed.
    â€œYou’re crazy!” screams Thelma. “You’re insane!”
    I stand over Bill and look down at him. I walk back to my house and collect my record, my phonograph, and my saxophone. I leave home.

Part II

Chapter 10
    Sid Willis is an old fella who used to play ball and he’s got this boat he all but lives on and I decide to look him up. I drive out to the docks and park and take off along the waterfront, carrying my saxophone, phonograph, and record. There are lots of people milling about and buying fish. The air is full of the smell of fish and the shouts of the men selling the fish. I’m walking along, looking out over the Sound, and the sunlight is bouncing off the water and I think it’s real pretty.
    There’s a great big tent in this parking lot, like the ones they use at revival meetings. I hear something like a blast from a horn and I think it sounds like an elephant. I walk into the tent and sure enough there’s an elephant. It really smells in the tent and though they got big fans blowing it’s hot and sticky. The elephant lets out another blast. There’s a man standing on a platform next to the elephant and he’s barking like a carnival man.
    â€œTest your smarts! Test your inventiveness! Test your ingenuity!” he shouts. “Two dollars for a chance at five hundred! Two dollars for a chance at five hundred! If you can make the pachyderm jump up from the ground I’ll give you five hundred dollars! Two dollars to try!” He stops and views the crowd. “Test your smarts! Test your …”
    People are paying him and walking back to stand in line. These folks are carrying all sorts of things. I’m watching and not really believing it as these people take turns trying to make this elephant jump up. A man with a set of cymbals stands just off to the side of the elephant and slams them together. The elephant doesn’t budge. A kid lights a string of firecrackers and tosses it down by the pachyderm’s feet. No reaction. I watch as an old woman shoves a hatpin into the animal’s hide and I see a little girl let mice out of a shoe box and an old man fire a pistol by one of them giant ears. The elephant doesn’t move a muscle, just stands there.
    I turn around and walk out of the tent and back to my car, where I open the trunk and pull out my baseball bat. I stow it under my arm next to my saxophone and I walk back to the tent. I left Thelma pretty suddenly, so I ain’t got no bucks to speak of. I could use the five hundred and I know just how to get it. I pay the woman two dollars and take a place in line. I wait while a number of people try and fail to make the elephant jump.
    It’s my turn. I put my saxophone, record, and phonograph down on some hay and take my bat around in front of the elephant. I wave the bat in his face and I walk around to the back of him and I get into my stance, my feet on either side of the big chain attached to his leg. Then I swing like I’ve been given the green light and hit that elephant flush in the balls and he lets out this god-awful trumpet blast and jumps clear off the ground. Everyone is stunned and quiet.
    I flip the bat in my hand like a baton and the man from the platform walks over to me. He stands there for a second with wet eyes, just looking at me.
    â€œWell,” I says, “I did it.”
    He doesn’t say a word. He just pulls out a great big wad of money and counts me out five hundred.
    â€œThanks.” I close my fingers around the money and