Brothers in Arms

by Paul Langan

  I just couldn’t do it. Call me soft, or a wimp. But I couldn’t just stand there and watch. I felt dirty.

  Frankie moved in for his first strike. “What’s the matter?” he said, stepping close. He was going to hurt Steve bad. I could see it like I could see the fear on Steve’s face. All of Bluford would hate me. Everything Teresa said would be right. I had to do something.

  “Back off, Frankie,” I urged. “It’s all right. We’re cool. ”

  Frankie looked me square in the face. “What?”

  The new young kid in Frankie’s posse looked outraged. I could see he was trying to impress Frankie.

  “Just leave him alone,” I said, staring at the new kid. He had to be just a few years older than Huero. He didn’t belong there seeing all this.

  “What are you talkin’ about?” Frankie said. “Some fool messes with one of my own, I get in his face. ”

  “Not this time, Frankie. He ain’t worth it. ” Before Frankie could do anything, I stepped in between him and Steve. “Go, Steve. All of you, get outta here. ” They didn’t hesitate. In seconds, they were in their car and rolling away. Little boys running back to Mom.

  Frankie turned to me and started shouting. “What’s going through your mind, homes? If we didn’t come here lookin’ for you, you’d a got beat down. We saw how that dude was pushin’ you around. How could you just stand there and take it?”

  “Yeah!” said Junie. “That’s not the Martin we remember. ”

  I couldn’t explain it myself. Frankie was watching me again. Like he did the other day when I was at his house. The new kid fidgeted uneasily. “I just got a lot going on, you know. I’m thinkin’ about a lot of things. ”

  “Dudes,” I heard Junie mutter just above a whisper. “He’s still messed-up in the head. ”

  Like that boy had room to talk. His eyes were pink from smoking weed. It was his favorite thing to do.

  “Well, we got something else for you to think about, homes. ” Frankie said, nodding to Chago.

  “We found the punk who shot Huero,” Chago said. “We figured everything out. The where, the who, and the how. That’s why we were lookin’ for you. Everything’s going down tomorrow morning. We’ll pick you up right here at 9:00. ”

  “You’re still down, right, Martin?” Frankie said.

  I almost passed out. They did it. They had finally found the person who took my brother. I still had the rage, the hunger. It was mixed with other things, but it was still there. It still is. And it spoke for me.

  “Yeah, I’ll be here,” I said.

  Frankie smiled and nodded. “We’ll see you then, homes. ” He said.

  He and the boys made their way back to the car. “9:00, homes. Be ready!” said the kid, whoever he was. Little punk didn’t even know Huero, but there he was rolling up with the big boys.

  A second later, the Le Mans tore off, and I was standing at the edge of the parking lot alone. Then I remembered something. Vicky. She was gone.

  She must have slipped away when Frankie showed up. That meant she’d seen my crowd and knew what we were like.

  I had lost her. Probably for good. But I was about to lose everything.

  “Your English teacher, Mr. Mitchell, called me this afternoon. He said you got an A on your first paper, and he told me you wrote about Huero. Why didn’t you say anything to me?” my mother said when she got home from work. It was almost 10:00. She was about to weep again, but this time she was happy.

  “It’s no big deal, Ma,” I said. Just looking at her was torture.

  “We talked for a while about you. He seems like a good man. ”

  “He’s all right. ” I walked to my room. “I’m tired,” I said.

  “I am so glad you’re turning things around. My prayers are being answered. My baby got an A,” she said as I closed the door, her voice full of pride. But she had no clue what I was about to do. Neither did I.

  That was last night.

  I spent ten hours staring at the ceiling, imagining how this morning would play out. But you can make all the plans in the world and never really know what’s going to happen. Huero’s death taught me that.

  When I got up, I threw my gear on, my baggy pants, my boots, my bandanna, and I headed out. I couldn’t eat nothing. My stomach was doing cartwheels as I made my way toward Bluford.

  The LeMans was waiting in the parking lot next to where we’d almost fought the day before. Its engine growled in the crisp morning air. Frankie and Chago were standing in front of the car. Frankie was smoking.

  “See! I told you he would come,” Chago said.

  “Check it out. He’s got his bandanna with him, homies. Martin’s back,” said Junie through the open window.

  I marched straight up to Frankie.

  “Good to see you, homes,” he said.

  “What’s the deal?”

  “Dude’s name is Hector Maldonado. He lives behind that park where I got stabbed. At 10:00, he’s gonna try and go to work, but he ain’t gonna get there,” Frankie said with a chuckle.

  There had to be a reason. Frankie always knew more than he said. I’d gotten used to that now. So I had to think around him. When I was up all night thinking about what we were about to do, one question kept coming back to me.

  “Why was this guy shooting at us this summer, Frankie?” I had to ask it.

  Frankie spat on the ground. He always hated when we asked him questions. He still did. “Don’t matter. He still shot your brother, right?”

  My hands were tingling, and there was sweat pouring down my neck. It was like he slapped me in the face. Frankie’s response set my mind spinning.

  “C’mon. Let’s go, homies,” Chago said. “Martin, you got your old seat, man. ” He moved to the back of the Le Mans, letting me sit in the front next to Frankie. I was number two again.

  “Check under your seat,” Frankie said to me as we got into the car and he revved the engine. I reached down and touched the smooth cold metal of a gun. Of course. Frankie had made sure we each had guns. Now everyone was armed. Everyone except him. It was all making sense. Too much sense.

  The car started to roll forward.

  Behind me, in the rearview mirror, I could see a section of the fence that protected Bluford. In front of me was the busy street that would lead us away. I sat in between, wearing my gear, ready to do something I could never take back. I was standing on the edge of a knife.

  Frankie pulled the LeMans to the end of the lot. A bus waiting in traffic blocked us from making our turn. We were quiet. Frankie took a drag from his cigarette, and a coil of smoke snaked up from his face. His jaw was tight, and he was tapping on the steering wheel, avoiding eye contact with me. The crowded car stank like sweat and cigarettes.

  I knew why Frankie hadn’t answered my question. I’d known it for days now. Knew it all night as I thought of a plan. Knew Frankie would never tell. He was too smart to give out information that could bust him, but I knew the truth.

  Huero was shot because of Frankie. Someone was trying to take Frankie out, probably because he had done something horrible. And now Frankie was using us to clean up his mess, take out his enemies. Arming us to make him stronger. Bringing in new blood to give him more muscle. Waiting until he was sure we could do things right. Making us pull the trigger while he sat back and watched. We were his pawns.

  And if we got busted, he could deny everything. Maybe even let us take the fall for him. Frankie’s like that when he has to be.

  Truth is, we’d only be creating another mess. Another broken family. Another crying mother. Another plot to collect tears in a graveyard. Another headstone in a growing sea of graves.

  Not me. Not Martin Luna. Not anymore.

  “There’s just too many dead people,” Huero had said. My little brother was right. He taught me. There had to be another way. I thought of one. Even if it was a long shot, I had to try it.

  I opened the car door.

  “Whatcha doin’, Martin?” Chago asked.
/>   “Leaving. ” I stepped out and started walking to Bluford.

  Frankie whipped the LeMans around in front of me and got out.

  “Homes, you know you can’t leave us,” he said. “Now get in the car. ”

  “I’m not doin’ it, Frankie. I’m serious. ”

  “Get in the car, Martin. ” His voice was cold. Like a frozen dagger.

  The car emptied. All my old homeboys got out to watch me challenge Frankie. I know deep inside all of them had wished they could do it at some point, but they were too scared.

  “I’m out,” I said, trying to walk around him.

  Frankie sidestepped, grabbed my shirt, and moved into my face. “Don’t make me do this, homes. ”

  I shoved him back out of my face, and he came back with two lightning-fast punches to my side. The second one hit like a hammer, and I felt a tearing pain as I backed away. It was my ribs. Another hit like that and I’d be on the ground. I hunched over against the pain.

  Frankie stepped back. It was what he always did when he fought someone. I’d seen it many times. I think he did it to check the damage. At least he was predictable.

  “Get in the car now,” Frankie ordered.

  “I’m out!”

  Frankie circled in on me again, looking for an opening. I knew his style. I had planned for it. There was no way I could beat him in a fight, especially not if the boys joined in. Hitting back would only feed Frankie’s fire. He might kill me. I had to fight him another way.

  The fists came again. I blocked and dodged what I could, but the third hit caught me across the chin, spinning my head and splitting my lip.

  “You’re coming with us, Martin,” Frankie growled. “One way or the other. ”

  “No, Frankie. It’s over. ”

  Frankie charged like an animal. He was just too fast. In seconds, he hit me repeatedly, opening a cut above my eye, bruising my arms, my jaw, my lip. It was like the last year before Mom got the restraining order against my dad. It was a repeat of the time I became part of Frankie’s gang. I knew how to take a beating. But you can only take it for so long before your legs get weak, you get dizzy, and you fall.

  I went down on my knees.

  “C’mon, Martin. We’re family, man. Brothers,” Chago said. “Let’s go. ”

  “My brother was Huero, Chago, and he’s dead because of something Frankie did. You know it’s true. What we are about to do, it ain’t family, Chago. It’s crazy. ”

  Frankie went to the car and came back a second later. I knew he had one of the guns. It was in his hand, concealed in his coat pocket so passing traffic couldn’t see it.

  “You can’t leave your family, Martin,” Frankie said. He knew I had spotted the gun. We all did.

  “Oh, no. Don’t do this, Frankie,” Chago said. “Just let it go, man. ”

  “My brother’s death wasn’t enough for you, huh, Frankie? Now you wanna take me too? You might as well kill my mother too. Three lives. Is that what you call family, Frankie?”

  He stood over me, the gun inches from my head. No one said a word. But Chago kept shaking his head. Junie kept eyeing the street.

  Frankie had the gun, but I played the only cards I had. He’d probably kill me if I fought him. He’d hunt me if I ratted him out. The only way out was to show him I had nothing to lose. It was a language Frankie understood. Years growing up together taught me that.

  “I can’t go no further. Do what you gotta do. ”

  Even Frankie had a sliver of heart left. He knew I had lost my brother because of him. He knew I was serious and that he couldn’t change my mind. He shook his head.

  “This ain’t done,” he said, looking at me and lowering the gun. Without another word, he jumped into the LeMans, and the boys followed. An instant later, he gunned the accelerator, and the car pulled away in a cloud of white tire smoke. I was alone on my knees. A free man with nothing.

  Did I run from my old life? I guess you could say that. I ran before it swallowed me whole, and I ended up where I was heading. Jail or dead. A little obituary in the back of the newspaper. A nobody. A nothing. I want more than that. Sometimes you gotta run.

  But what now? I don’t know. My old world’s been ripped away, and the new one doesn’t make much sense. It’s just me, this big school, a stubborn girl, a new neighborhood, and the words of my crazy teacher, Mr. Mitchell.

  Martin, you are talented, and you could have a bright future ahead of you. Don’t throw it away. When you feel things getting out of hand, when you know you’re getting over your head, talk to me. I’m here for you. I mean that.

  I’m holding onto those words like a lifeline.

  So here I am out in front of Bluford three hours late. The guard is coming out to meet me. So is Ms. Spencer. I know they can see the blood. I got a lot to explain, and I know she’s not going to believe me. But I’ll try. I made my choice. I gotta live with it.

  I ain’t no killer. No one in my family is. That’s how it’s going to stay.

  The guard is almost here. They’ll take me to the office. I’ll make a phone call to my mom and Officer Ramirez. I got the name of the person who shot my brother.

  Rest in peace, Huero. I’ll make you proud.