NYU Black Renaissance Noire Fall 2013 - Page 24

22 m Miles Davis and Richard Irving III in the studio. Randy and I hoisted him back to his feet and he walked upstairs on his own. I was surprised and amazed at his resilience considering his 53-year-old body and the severity of the fall. Maybe it was all those years he had trained as a boxer, I thought. Certainly a boxer would instinctively know how to take a beating and, quite literally, roll with the punches. He performed the nearly perfect fall of a stunt man. I thought about my own attempt to ride my new red Christmas tricycle down the front porch stairs at age five. It had been disastrous. I still wear the cut mark below my right thumb as a reminder. Miles’ feat was not one I would dare try at home. About ten minutes later, after getting resettled and back on track, he searched through scraps of paper in a small book to find Jack’s phone number and dialed it. BRN-FALL-2013.indb 22 “No answer,” he said. “Shit I really wanted you guys to taste his fish dish. It’s fucking incredible. Let’s see… we could order some fish from the Cuban Chinese joint, but naw— that wouldn’t be the same. Judy is there any fish in the freezer?” I suspected that he never actually spoke to Jack in the first place. “We don’t want you to go through all that trouble Miles,” Randy said. “No fish in the fridge, just some shrimp,” Judy reported back. “Oh fuck… Bobby you’re allergic to shellfish,” he lamented, as we continued to quietly ponder alternatives for dinner. Suddenly, Miles cocked his head to the right with a seemingly great epiphany, yet almost as if he had heard a mouse. He slowly raised his right hand to meet his temple, resting his index finger there, almost like a frozen lazy salute. At first I imagined this abrupt segue from the conversation about dinner to be indicative of Miles’ realization of the perfect solution. But then the salute transitioned with his thumb joining the index finger to repeatedly question his chin. We silently observed as he suspiciously eyed the room. Now I began to wonder what illusive item now stretched and strained his brain. Was this what Judy referred to when she said, “He’s not in his right mind?” 9/13/13 12:47 AM