What can YOU say in six sentences?
Wendell could dance and sing like James Brown, with shake-and-bake added that transformed the act into something brand-new in this world.
He'd be up at the pool hall at three in the morning, dancing to Dyke & the Blazers, with fast steps and spins and the splits, and growling and screaming on key like God wants it, with every last runaway girl in the place in their minis and beehives, shaking that money and having a blast right behind him.
He could have been a contender, name up in lights, the Apollo, all that.
The last time I saw him he'd porked out to 300 pounds, smoking that weed and laying around in the park with the homeless all day, and who even knew if he had a home he could go to? His smile was residue, man: pulped hopes and dreams, and confusion that comes when you pick up a scalpel and pare your emotions, to gristle the dogs gnaw to nothing.
Life lived in the twilight of hell; no tomorrows.