The Man of Legends

by Kenneth C. Johnson

subway car. It gimme a kick. Made me laugh a little to myself. Like I’uz just startin’ on some kinda cool new adventure. But I didn’t see no pitchers nowhere. I didn’t wanta sound like a dumb ass, so I walked around some, pretendin’ I been there lots and I’uz just decidin’ what to do. Then I ’membered the map that Will give me. I pulled it out and scoped it, but I’uz still confused. I seen some peeps at that counter in the middle axin’ questions so I sidled up closer. This older white woman behind the counter smiled at me and talked in a foreign but friendly accent, “Welcome to the Met.” She axed if it was my first time. I shook my head like I’uz a pro, but showed her the map, sayin’ I’uz just tryin’ to ’member the way to the Sackler Wing. I wanted to see that old graffiti Will’uz talkin’ about. I discovered what they called the Sackler Wing didn’t mean no wing like on a bird. It’uz another gi-normous room, but there’uz only a few people in it. I seen that one wall long as a subway train and made o’glass. It went up fifty feet, leanin’ in at the top. Central Park’s outside, but the room’s up on the second floor, so I just could see the tops