ASKING QUESTIONS OF THE YES-YES BOARD
By Sheila M. Curtin

Tish left us at the corner, explaining it was faster for her to cut across Lawrence Avenue, this way she'd be home in no time at all. There was a 24-hour bodega right next to her building, with plenty of people coming and going till all hours of the day or night. She was sure she'd be all right once she got there. I got stuck walking with Nina, who wasn't quite done complaining. I waved goodnight once more to Tish as she crossed the street, taking her shortcut home.**

Lawrence Avenue was much darker than usual, as if the street lamps had been dimmed, and the darkness played on Tish's fears as she made her way along. Shadows of lampposts and street signs took the forms of unfamiliar people as she continued walking, only adding to her anxiety. She could just make out the form of a young man in the darkness, dressed in a black and gray leather jacket and jeans, standing under the No Parking sign near the center of the block. Something about him seemed so familiar, his height, his jacket, heart rending reminders of her deceased love. She felt compelled to watch him as she hurried along, his silhouette strikingly similar to her beloved Ty. It wasn't until she had almost reached him that she realized there was no one there, the form she was so certain resembled Ty was only a trick of light playing against the darkness, another shadow in the multitude of night shadows. 

A small group of people were standing in front of the bodega when she reached her building, at least two of them were obviously selling some sort of contraband to interested passersby; they nodded politely at Tish as she passed. She returned the gesture and continued into the lobby, headed toward the back and pressed the button for the elevator. Several minutes went by as she waited, she pressed the button again and heard the elevator alarm go off some floors above. Someone had gotten themselves stuck. She was forced to walk the four flights up to her apartment.

The stairwell leading to the upper floors was located toward the back of the building, next to the tenant mailboxes lining the wall. She caught a glimpse of herself in the polished bronze as she walked past, along with the sudden movement of someone hiding under the stairs. She walked a little faster hoping to outpace the intruder, but whomever had come out from under the stairs was walking just as quickly behind her. Too late to turn around and try for the building's entrance, she had no choice but to continue on up the stairs, and pray she could make it into her apartment before she was caught. Fear galvanized her flight, she took the stairs in bounds of three and four at a time, without looking back once to see who was following her. She was shaking from fear, images of what would happen if she was caught played over and over again in her mind, adding to her terror. Her muscles weakened as her levels of adrenaline pulsed and ebbed and her legs felt like lead, she was having a hard time getting them to move any faster, second floor, third floor and she continued in terror with those footsteps fast at her heels. When she got near her floor she pulled the keys from her pocket and ran her finger along their edges, feeling for the key to her door. The footsteps were now right behind her, she could feel hot breath on the back of her neck. A hand brushed against her back and she decided right then and there to face this creep, better in the open hallway

than alone in her apartment. She spun around holding her keys tightly in her raised fist, ready to fight back; the hallway was empty. There was no one there.

She was sure that someone had chased her up the stairs. She'd seen the reflection in the mailboxes, heard the footsteps right behind her, the soles of shoes pounding the marble steps just as hurriedly as hers, she'd felt them touch her, for heaven's sake. She knocked on Mr. Jimmy's door, not sure if her next door neighbor would be awake at this hour of the night. His wife, Jerrilee answered her knock.

Mr. Jimmy came to the door when he'd heard his wife speaking with Tish, he figured there was some kind of trouble if the girl had to wake them at this hour, and within minutes had his robe on and with baseball bat in hand began checking the vestibule for any intruders. He found no evidence of anyone hiding in the hallway, but just to be sure escorted Tish inside her apartment, peeking in closets and under the bed in case anyone was hiding inside. Everything checked out fine. Jerrilee brought over a cup of chamomile tea to calm Tish down a little; she was still shaking badly.

Both Mr. Jimmy and his wife stayed with Tish until they were sure she'd dozed off, then quietly let themselves out, locking the door behind them. Jimmy promised he'd speak to the super about the incident in the morning,  it wasn't the first time a tenant had been chased by someone hiding under the stairs, at least this time the intended victim had escaped harm.**

Tish had fallen asleep and began to dream as soon as her eyes closed. The dream she was having was a real doozy. It had begun nicely enough, Ty was walking toward her, about half a block away, with that lopsided grin brightening his face and she couldn't believe she could see him again, talk to him and hold him again, but what she really wanted was to ask him how did he get here since he was dead. He was Ty but something about him was altogether wrong, the closer he came the more she could see it, could feel it, no, he wasn't Ty at all, he was something wicked, something very evil. The Deceiver. He began to speak in a strange tongue as his features morphed into something completely adverse to humankind, something her very soul recognized and feared, a malevolence impossible to describe in any form of human language, written or spoken. She turned away in an effort to avoid him but he was right at her side, spitting vile obscenities into her face. Two bottomless blackened pits scarred where the eyes should have been, and the breath that escaped its maw was fetid, as disgusting and foul as the words that it spewed. She knew it would kill her. Terrified, she realized she had to fight it, yes, it would kill her when she fought but it would kill her anyway, she had nothing to lose. She squeezed her eyes shut and began to recite the Our Father but it only ranted all the more loudly, the more aggressively, cursing the Holy Ones and places in a foul tirade of obscenities. She woke from her terror sweating and panting, gasping for breath as if she'd run a marathon. She was still nervous and trembling as she ran the shower and dressed for work. That had been one hell of a nightmare. And it had been one nightmare of an evening.**

Nina was still being a pain in the ass as we reached Morris Avenue, and I was thanking the Heavens above that her house was now only two blocks away. She was bitching about everything, looking for a fight. It was always I wish a mutha would with Nina, never oh no you didn't. I opted to part company at the corner and let her walk the rest of the way by herself. For my part I needed a few moments of peace and quiet, a reprieve from her incessant yammering and complaining. I extended a have a good one Nina along

with the perfunctory check you tomorrow and left her standing there, still fussing. If her mood had been bad before it grew even uglier as I walked off, but I'd about had her up to my eyebrows, and if I never had to walk home with her again it would be too soon.**

Nina hurled some obscenity in my general direction but turned around and started towards her building. Halfway down the block she noticed Granger's gate open, she said a silent prayer that none of his dogs had gotten loose. That Granger was one hot mess indeed, he'd been fined by Animal Control at least a half dozen times already for letting his dogs off his property. Along with several rottweilers and chows he had two or three pit bulls, and these had been trained to fight. His property was strangely quiet as she passed by, not even a growl from one of his dogs, not a good sign at all. She spotted one of them about a block away lifting its leg to the stump of a tree on the opposite side of the street. Her stomach flipped as she saw it was one of the pit bulls, she tried not to attract its attention and made an about face in the direction she'd just come from. She'd almost reached the corner when she saw the dog had somehow gotten ahead of her and was standing between her and the intersection beyond. Nina shook her head in disbelief, the dog had gotten up in front of her without her seeing it, it was a good block behind her when she'd turned around to make her about-face. The dog picked up its head once more and growled, then ran toward her at top speed with its teeth bared. Nina took off running, searching for an escape, a building with a door that might be unlocked, a fence too high for this animal to get over, anything, anything that would put some sort of barrier between her and the jaws of this crazy dog. There was no one in sight to help, no one to hear her cries, no cars  venturing up the avenue that could offer any possible escape or aid. She pushed herself harder, tried to run faster, but the dog ran faster than she thought possible. As she turned the corner she heard the animal panting right behind her, heard it growl as its jaws snapped shut on the cuff of her pants.

She was caught. She began to scream in abject terror, begging for someone to come to her assistance. One of the panhandlers she'd passed earlier turned the corner and walked toward her. Nina was long past the point of panic now, she was hysterical, pleading and crying for help, unable to free her pant cuff from the dog's jaws. She was terrified thinking of what the dog would do once it caught her leg in its powerful jaws. She felt her flesh tear as the mongrel's teeth closed down on her ankle. The indigent walked towards her, reached down and pulled her pant cuff free. It had been caught on the jagged remains of a broken street pole.

Her heart was beating way too fast in her chest, out of rhythm, and her voice failed as she tried to warn him to watch out for the dog. He looked at her warily, as if she was a few cards short of a full deck. What dog, he asked, and Nina couldn't believe he was pretending that he hadn't seen it. That mongrel pit had chased her nearly two full blocks and damn near chewed the cuff off her pants and here this drunken fool was standing in her face insisting that he hadn't seen the dog. She didn't know where it had gone to, and the not knowing was much worse than seeing the dog itself. He insisted there had been no dog around, and then pointed to

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