We walk into the corner
store drooling for shoelace licorice. My best friend in the whole
world, even though he’s a boy,
leads me through the too-close aisles, and almost knocks over a
rack of Philly Inquirers. His summer buzz cut is so short, he’s
almost bald, bony shoulders poke out of his Bruce Lee tank top,
cut-offs, no socks in his black Kung Fu shoes. The dog choker chain
that holds the two pieces of broom stick together swings back and
forth in his back pocket, clanking when he walks. Manny stops in
front of a round rack of key chains. He turns the rack, key chains
swing, crashing into each other. I stare, hypnotized by the different
plastic animals that hang from the key rings. He asks which one
I like. I like the monkey best.
Manny lifts the monkey, pointer finger through the key ring,
holds it above my head and asks the viejo how much. The viejo leans
on the counter over the sports page, chin in hand, looks at us,
I try to concentrate on his good eye, the cloudy one gives me the
creeps, and says fifty cents. Manny thanks him and puts the key
ring back on the rack. Then, one quick look at the owner reading
the paper, and Manny snatches the key ring and stuffs it in his
pocket. My stomach could fit through that key ring right now.
It happens like a swing and a miss in stickball, so fast that
I don’t know what’s happening till it’s too late.
We pay for our shoelace licorice and leave. Halfway down the block,
my best friend reaches into his pocket and holds the key ring,
swaying, in front of my face. “For you,” he says. I’m
stunned, even more scared than when we were in the store. Any minute
now the police are going to put us in jail. I feel wrong accepting
it, but not taking it would hurt his feelings.
The only time I took something that didn’t belong to me,
I ended up confessing it to God because I was afraid lightning
would hit me or something. I took a Hot Wheels car from a kid at
school. I thought it would be like getting an ice cream cone when
I didn’t expect it, but I didn’t have fun playing with
it. The next day I dropped the car in the back of the classroom
by the kid’s lunch box. At the time, I thought maybe it was
different when you stole something and gave it away like Robin
Hood. Maybe that made you feel good. I wish I didn’t see
Manny take the key ring.
Manny drops the monkey key ring in my palm, I stare at it and
thank him. I know I won’t tell on him. I never tell on him;
when he took his mom’s broom stick and sawed it in half to
make chocko sticks, I didn’t say nothing.
We walk home slurping shoelace licorice like spaghetti, Manny
Kung Fu chops the air into pieces. “Who you going to beat
up with those Kung Fu moves?” Manny takes out his chocko
sticks and starts swinging them from side to side, he comes too
close to my face. “You
never know who’s in the shadows.”
“Manny, that’s only in the movies.” I take
the chocko sticks out of his hand. “If the cops see you with
these, you’re in trouble.”
“I’m too fast for them.” He jumps up, kicks
his foot above his head and yells, “YEEEAAAAH!” He
lands, his hand right in front of my face in what he calls the
death grip.
“You don’t really know Kung Fu. You’re going
to hurt yourself.” I give back the chocko sticks, he puts
them in his back pocket.
We come around the corner and these older boys are waiting in
front of Manny’s house. “What are they doing there?”
“They’re my friends.”
“Since when?”
“Don’t worry about them, they won’t do nothing
to you.”
“Manny, they trashed the school last year, remember?”
“Yeah, that was funny.”
We get closer to the three guys, they nod at us, Manny nods back.
Manny turns to me before we get real close, “I have to go.”
“With them?” I want to hit him over the head with
his chocko sticks.
I’m sitting on his porch steps watching him act like a
goof ball with those stupid dorks. All of them karate chopping
each other and laughing too loud. They walk down the street pushing
each other around. I put my hand on my forehead to shade my eyes
so I can see them better. They go down the block getting smaller
and smaller, and then they disappear. He told me to wait for him.
The sun starts burning my scalp and the street looks liquid. Like
I could swim in the black of it. My head starts hurting and I squeeze
the key ring so hard it leaves a dent in my palm. I hold up the
key ring, the monkey has this dumb grin on his face.
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