If You Listen Hard Enough to Something Specific, it’s Possible to Not Hear Anything Else at All

Just before I left, at night, on a bus travelling to an away basketball game, our assistant coach said, ‘Y’all look out the window, now. Take a real good look, boys. That there’s a god-dang crack house.’ I looked out the window and saw two people who did not look like cracked-out junkies eating dinner on an outside table. Our assistant coach laughed and shook his head. He said, ‘Hoo-weee, shit.’ At the game, a dad got ejected for threatening the ref. In the stands, he went bright red from yelling so much. He kept yelling, ‘What the Jesus Christ. Fuck. What in the fuck is going on?’ One of the coaches looked at us, grinning, and said, ‘Hoo-wee, boys. Bunch of coloured monkeys. It’s like a god-dang ZOO in here. Shit.’ We lost the game. On the way home I slept with my head going bang, bang, bang against the window. Not, like, big bangs. Just little, fast ones. I couldn’t hear much. I didn’t mind how it felt.