Calypso Read Online Free Page A

to matter much now, does it?"
        "What's the man's name? The one who runs-"
        "Lou Davis."
        "White man?"
        "Black."
        "Did you talk to him about the head count?"
        "George tole him he was a crook, that's all."
        "What'd he say?"
        "Who? Davis? He laughed, that's all."
        "What's he look like, this Davis?"
        "Short fat guy."
        "Short fat guy," Carella repeated.
        "Them legs in the skinny pants weren't Lou Davis's legs, if that's what you're thinkin."
        "Tell me more about the crowd."
        "I told you, they loved him."
        "Young crowd?"
        "Not for the most part."
        "Any teen-agers in it?"
        "None that I saw. Kids don't much dig calypso. With calypso, you got to think, man, you got to make an effort to hear what the man is sayin up there. Kids today, they don't like to do much thinkin. They like it all spoon-fed. When George was up there layin it down, you had to use your head. You know what calypso is, are you familiar with calypso?"
        "Only Harry Belafonte," Carella said.
        "Yes, well, that's canned calypso. Real calypso is you make up your own stuff. Down in the islands, you sing another man's calypso, they look down on you. George made up his own calypso, the way you spose to, the way it was in the beginning. You know how calypso started? With the slaves down there, man. They weren't allowed to talk to each other while they were workin, so they used to sing out all the gossip, fool Whitey that way. George sang the new calypso. Social comment. Protest. Talkin about the scene. He was the king, man, he named himself right. He was King George. Three, four years from now, he'da been a big star. Man, I don't know why this had to happen, I just don't know why the hell this had to happen."
        The room went silent. Carella was suddenly aware of the rain drumming against the window. Somewhere on the street, a horn honked in what was clearly marked hospital zone.
        "When you say social comment…"
        "Yeah."
        "And protest…"
        "Yeah."
        "Could he have annoyed anyone tonight?… Is it possible…?"
        "Everybody, man. I know what you mean, and I'm tellin you everybody. That's the whole point of calypso. To get people irritated, to start them thinkin about a situation."
        "People like who?"
        "Everybody from the mayor on down."
        "He sang about the mayor tonight?"
        "He sang about the mayor all the time. That was one of his biggest numbers, the one on the mayor."
        "Who else did he sing about tonight?"
        "Why?" Harding asked, and grinned. "Don't you think the mayor coulda been the one who killed him?"
        "You see where I'm going-"
        "Sure, I see where you're goin. George done a song about cops, and he done one about rats and garbage, and he done another one about a neighborhood pusher, and one about a black girl peddlin her ass to white guys, and he done one about straightenin hair and usin skin bleaches… Man, he done the whole scene. That's calypso."
        "What neighborhood?"
        "Huh? Oh. Uptown. Diamondback."
        "In this song… did he name a specific pusher?"
        "I don't know who he was singin about," Harding said.
        "Well, you heard the song…"
        "If a man says someone's the mayor, then you got to know he's singin about the mayor."
        "How about if a man says someone's a pusher?"
        "Then you know he's singin about somebody's a pusher."
        " Which pusher?"
        "Who knows?" Harding said. "A pusher, that's all."
        "Could any pusher in Diamondback…"
        "I don't know who mighta taken offense or not."
        "Was the song offensive?"
        "George's songs were social comment. He was telling what it's like to be black in a white world."
        "Would you say he was singing about a specific pusher?"
        "Not that I know