Mean Little People

by Dearth, Paige

  “Yes. I personally didn’t get you out, but some people I know did. I want you to realize that you are now in debt to me for saving your life by giving you back your freedom. That means that when I need you to do something for me, you will do it without question,” Johnny stated firmly.

  “Like what kinda stuff will I need to do?” Tony said, squirming.

  “We don’t need to talk about that right now. When the time comes, you’ll know it.” Johnny lit a cigarette and placed it in an ashtray. “I understand you had a difficult time when you were in prison. There were some men who bothered you. Is that true?”

  Tony wished he could disappear, vanish into the smoky air. He did not want to talk to Johnny Morano about what the guards did to him.

  Johnny leaned forward in his chair, his eyes boring into Tony’s. “I asked you a question.”

  Tony nodded and lowered his head. “Yeah, it’s true.”

  Johnny sat back again. “You will need to be strong. You are useless to me in the state you’re in right now. So let me set things straight for you. You will dig deep within yourself and get the fuck over it. I don’t believe in feeling sorry for yourself. Let what happened to you fuel a spark of anger inside of you. Because here’s the thing…” Johnny took another drag on his cigarette. “If you don’t, then you will live your life like a sniveling, weak person.”

  Tony felt a surge of anger and hatred for the men who had violated him and now for Johnny, who was telling him how to be. He wiped his sweating hands on his jeans for a few seconds. His shoulders were tight and neck erect. He slowly turned his head and looked directly at Johnny. “I’ll get over it. Ain’t nothin’ gonna stop me from gettin’ what I want.”

  Johnny smiled. Tony’s green eyes were backlit by the fire now burning in his soul.

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  For the five months that followed Tony’s release from prison, he lived at Vincent’s house. He only saw his mother and Macie once a week. They arranged to meet in the park or other locations because Teresa feared that her husband would come home and find Tony in the house. Tony continued to go to school, but his grades went from mediocre to bad. He had a hard time concentrating and often fixated on his memories of the abuse.

  One night, Tony was hanging out with Salvatore, Vincent and a few girls from their school on the corner of Porter and Opal Streets. Julia, one of the girls, had a crush on Tony for months and was flirting with him. After the two talked for a while, Julia took Tony by the hand, and pulled him to the side of a building. She had leaned in to kiss Tony, when they heard Salvatore yelling.

  “Back the fuck off! I’m warning you,” Salvatore shouted.

  Tony left Julia and raced around the corner.

  “What’s goin’ on?” Tony said, his muscles tense.

  “These assholes think they can tell us what to do,” Vincent said, gesturing toward five teen boys who were a year ahead of them in high school.

  “Oh yeah?” Tony walked up to the boys. “We got a problem?”

  “Yeah, we do,” Arnie said. “That girl over there wit’ your faggot friend,” he said pointing to Salvatore, “that’s my girlfriend. Now, it looks like I’m gonna have to kick his smelly ass ’cause it ain’t right to take another guy’s girl out.”

  Tony’s blood boiled, and he walked over to Beth, who was clinging to Salvatore. “Beth, is this little cocksucker over here your boyfriend?”

  Beth’s eyeballs were bulging out of their sockets. She watched Arnie and his friends, unblinking. She kept slinking behind Salvatore, as though he were a full-body shield. She shook her head. “He won’t accept it’s over between us,” she whispered, keeping her eyes glued to her ex-boyfriend.

  Tony didn’t like seeing the fear in Beth’s face. He knew what that fear felt like. He turned back to Arnie and his friends. “Looks like Beth wants to stay here wit’ us. Why don’t ya assholes go back into the hole ya crawled outta?”

  Arnie grunted. “Ya think you’re bad enough to take us, huh?”

  Tony moved closer to Arnie. His chest flexed outward, and he edged up to Arnie so close he could smell his rotten breath.

  Arnie pulled out a gun and stuck it under Tony’s chin. “OK. That’s good. Let’s do this then.” Arnie put his nose against Tony’s.

  Tony put his hands up above his head. “OK, you win this time. When you wanna come back wit’out that piece of metal in your hands, ya just let me know.”

  Tony turned and walked back over to Salvatore and Beth. “Let’s go, Beth. We’re gonna walk ya home.”

  Arnie and his friends followed at a distance as the six teens walked to Beth’s house. Salvatore looked at Beth and gave her a sweet smile. “I’ll see you soon, Beth.”

  Beth looked over her shoulder and nervously back at Salvatore, who was moving in for a good night kiss. However, Beth backed away from Salvatore and ran up the steps and into her house. Satisfied, Arnie and the other boys turned and walked away.

  After Tony and his friends walked the last girl to her house, they went back to Salvatore’s house for something to eat.

  As they walked back to Salvatore’s house, Tony was quiet until they were a block away. “What happened tonight wasn’t cool,” he began. “We was really at a disadvantage. Fucking Arnie, where the hell did he get a gun? We ain’t takin’ no shit from those douchebags. We need to get our hands on some metal.”

  “Whata ya mean, Tony?” Vincent asked.

  “What I mean is those boys go around school bullying other people. They are even pushin’ Beth around—we saw that wit’ our own eyes tonight. I think we need guns for protection.”

  “How are we supposed to do that, Tony? I mean, how are we going to get guns?” Salvatore said.

  “I don’t know. All I know is I ain’t gettin’ pushed around ever again,” Tony said.

  Tony looked at Salvatore and then Vincent. “So what do ya say?”

  Salvatore chuckled. “I say you’re fucking crazy.”

  That night, as Tony lay on the sofa in Vincent’s living room trying to sleep, his mind raced. He never wanted to be afraid again and was determined to take back his life. He hoped that Vincent and Salvatore would stand with him.

  Chapter Thirty-Five

  A few days later, Tony stopped at a fast-food restaurant for a cheap meal. He was eyeing up the boy in line directly in front of him. Tony couldn’t help but notice the boy’s tattoo, and his eyes focused in on it. The tattoo said Slayer.

  “What the fuck are ya lookin’ at?” the boy growled.

  Tony started to perspire under his shirt. “Nothin’. It’s just that I was in juvie with a kid that had the same tattoo as you.”

  “You know Dooley?”

  Tony smiled at the connection. “Yeah, I was his cellmate for a while.”

  “You know what the tattoo means?”

  Tony’s voice cracked. “Sure, Dooley told me all about it.”

  “Oh yeah? Dooley don’t tell hardly no one. So why all of sudden would he be tellin’ you?”

  “Some bad shit happened while I was there. Dooley said I needed to belong to something bigger…so that I can protect myself.”

  “What’s your name?”

  “Tony. What’s yours?”

  “Blast. What were ya in juvie for?”

  “Cops thought I killed somebody?”

  “Did ya?”

  Tony shook his head. “Nah, I was just there when it all happened.”

  “Could ya?”

  “Could I what?”

  “Could ya kill somebody?”

  “I don’t know. I could kill those pricks that ran the prison,” Tony admitted.

  “Yeah, Dooley told us some stories about those guys,” Blast said thoughtfully. “You live with your parents or you in a group home?”

  “Nah. I’m livin’ at my friend’s house now. My father don’t want me around.”

  “How’s that goin’?”

  “It’s OK. Vincent, my friend, he’s a real good guy, but I don’t feel l
ike I got nowhere that’s mine.”

  “Ya wanna come hang out with me at our place?”

  “Where do ya live?”

  “North Philly. The Slayers run the fuckin’ streets there. We don’t take no shit from nobody. Since ya know Dooley, I can let ya come and check it out for yourself.”

  Tony shrugged. “I guess so.”

  Tony followed Blast onto a bus that took them into North Philadelphia. When they were seated, Tony asked, “How old are ya?”

  “Sixteen. What about you?”

  “I’ll be fourteen in a month.”

  “The Slayers don’t care how old ya are. All we worry about is takin’ care of each other ’cause we ain’t got families that care. Dooley’s been in and out of juvie and group homes for a couple of years. He always finds a way to stay in touch, though. Someday when he gets out, Dooley will take back his position with the Slayers.”

  “What’s his position?”

  “Dooley was our leader. Still is in a way. Every once in a while, his mother gets a letter from him to give to us. He gives us ideas on how to make money and shit.”

  Tony was surprised. “Other than kickin’ my ass once, Dooley was a pretty cool dude.”

  Blast laughed. “You don’t know Dooley at all. That motherfucker will kill ya and not think twice about it. On the outside, everybody’s afraid of him. Dooley has a black heart and is proud of it.”

  Tony watched out the bus window. The neighborhoods deteriorated the farther away they drove from South Philadelphia. A few blocks outside of North Philadelphia, he realized he might have made a terrible mistake by going with Blast. Tony sat up straight on the plastic seat.

  “Relax, man. You wanna get in a fight or somethin’?” Blast whispered.

  Outside the windows of the bus, people staggered, some screaming at each other. The homes were mostly boarded up. It looked like a war-torn country that Tony had seen on the news. There was trash and broken-down cars everywhere. He couldn’t believe that people actually lived there. A few minutes later, when they were deep in the heart of North Philadelphia, Blast jumped to his feet.

  “This is our stop.”

  Tony sat motionless for a few seconds, gripping the seat in front of him.

  “Look, man, are you comin’ or what?” Blast snapped.

  Tony hoisted himself to his feet and followed Blast off of the bus. As his sneakers hit the edge of the road, Tony turned around and looked at the bus driver. The driver gave Tony a grave look, shook his head, shut the doors, and zoomed away.

  Tony and Blast got off at Somerset Street and walked two blocks before they turned right onto North Water Street. He followed Blast to a brick row home painted dark brown. The paint had chipped away, exposing the brick in random places. Next to the house was a lot filled with large rejected household items, trash, wood, and broken tables and chairs. The house was two stories high. The black-shingled awning across the front of the home was detaching from the brick. Tony looked up. Some windows were boarded up with plywood, and others were gone, leaving large gaping holes in the building. A porch ran the length of the house. Tony stepped over the missing floorboards of the porch. The house to the left was covered in graffiti. Tony’s stomach danced, and his instincts told him to run, but he didn’t even know where he would run to.

  Blast paused at the front door. “Listen, just be cool. My brothers don’t take to new people lightly. Ya ready?”

  “I guess so. I ain’t lookin’ for trouble.”

  “Ha! In this neighborhood trouble finds its way to ya.”

  Blast opened the front door and walked into a room where teenage boys and girls were sitting. The once-white walls were streaked with stains from leaks on the upper floors. The long wall to the right was covered in graffiti. In the middle was the word SLAYERS, and the artwork design around it included blood, knives, guns, and faces with pointed teeth, and other objects that represented the gang. The room fell silent as they all stared at Tony.

  “Who the fuck is this?” Tony looked over at the tall boy with long, curly black hair. He had large brown eyes and full lips. The boy’s mouth hung open slightly to reveal his silver front teeth. He was muscular, and his shoulders were set wide.

  “Razor, this is Tony. I met him in the city. He knows Dooley. He shared a cell wit’ him,” Blast explained.

  Razor pushed his girlfriend off of him and stood face to face with Tony.

  “What do ya want?” Razor said.

  “I don’t want nothin’. I met Blast, and he asked if I wanted to come here,” Tony said, trying unsuccessfully to keep the fear from his voice.

  “So it’s true ya were wit’ Dooley?”

  “Yeah. We shared a cell in juvie. He told me about the Slayers.”

  “If ya met Dooley, then tell me what he’s got on his neck,” Razor demanded.

  “He’s got a scar from where someone hit ’im wit’ a knife. Told me the guy tried to slit his throat, but one of his boys shot the guy in the head. The scar is from his ear to the bottom of his jaw,” Tony explained, running his finger in the spot where Dooley’s scar was.

  Razor nodded. “Motherfucker almost took our boy out wit’ that move. Where ya from?”

  “South Philly.”

  “Oh, look, fellas—we got us a South Philly sissy,” Razor taunted.

  “What’s your problem, man?” Tony snapped. He immediately thought that Dooley had told the gang that he’d been raped in juvie and that they were mocking him.

  Razor grabbed Tony around the neck with one hand and guided him across the floor, slamming him up against the wall. “My problem is that I don’t like people that I don’t know. If ya ain’t from North Philly, then ya ain’t worth shit.”

  Blast walked over and put his hand on Razor’s forearm. “Come on, Razor. The kid ain’t got nobody. He lives at his friend’s house ’cause his father won’t let him live at home. He’s like us—ain’t got nobody that cares about him. Besides, he knows Dooley.”

  Razor released his grip on Tony. “I don’t give a fuck about your pathetic life. Ya ain’t stayin’ here; that’s all I’m sayin’. Ya can hang for a while, then get your ass back on the bus and go back to your rotten life. Ya get me?”

  Tony rubbed his neck; it was throbbing from Razor’s death grip. He looked around the room, and, as if nothing had happened, the teenagers went back to partying and laughing.

  “Come on, little man. Let’s get a beer,” Blast whispered.

  Tony had talked with some of the boys, but he was uncomfortable until the second beer kicked in. The alcohol helped relax him, and he talked with them as he had talked to Dooley…cautiously. Hours had passed by the time Tony realized it was dark outside and he needed to get back to Vincent’s house.

  Tony walked up behind Blast. “Hey, I need to get back to South Philly. Where do I pick up the bus?”

  Blast laughed. “I’ll tell ya what. A couple of us will walk ya to the bus stop and wait wit’ ya. Otherwise ya won’t make it outta this place alive. Hell, ya wouldn’t be able to walk these streets wit’out one of us in daylight. Someone will definitely kill your ass at night.”

  Tony felt both embarrassed and relieved. He wanted to protect himself, but he heeded Blast’s warning and took him up on the offer for company. Once Tony was seated on the bus, he thought about how lucky the Slayers were to have each other. They were a group of brothers from different mothers, but it didn’t matter to any of them. They were each other’s family, and Tony wished he could have a feeling of family.

  Chapter Thirty-Six

  When Tony got off the bus in South Philadelphia, he walked to Vincent’s house. As he stepped through the front door, he heard Vincent and his mother, Maria, arguing in the kitchen.

  “I can’t worry ’bout everyone, Vincent. I told Teresa that Tony could live here as long as she paid me some money to take care of food and stuff. Teresa hasn’t given me a dime in the past month,” Maria yelled.

  “But Ma, he ain’t got nowhere else to go. He’s my
best friend. Tony can give ya some money, and I’ll get a job and help out too,” Vincent pleaded.

  “Oh please, Vincent. Ya boys are barely fourteen. Where ya gonna find a job? Huh? And what about school? Ya wanna grow up to be a dummy?” Maria pressed.

  “I don’t know where I’ll get a job, but I will, and so will Tony. Come on, Ma, please. Where’s he gonna go?”

  “I don’t know. That ain’t my problem. You and your brother, Richie, are my problem. I’ve been working my ass off since your father died. I gotta work three jobs to keep food on this table and a roof over our heads. I can’t lose everything because Teresa Bruno don’t know what to do wit’ her own kid. I like Tony and all, but I can’t keep up wit’ the cost of havin’ ’im here.”

  “Maybe if Richie got a job instead of hangin’ around here all day, he could help pay some of the bills,” Vincent said, his temper boiling over.

  “Richie ain’t none of your business. He ain’t as smart as you are, and he ain’t got no ambition. Don’t worry about Richie; he’ll find his way. Besides, it ain’t Richie’s responsibility to pay for Tony neither. Get it through your head: Tony’s gonna have to find another place to live. I’ll call Teresa and let her know so that she can make some other arrangements for him. He can stay here for two more weeks, and then he’s gotta go,” Maria argued.

  Tony slumped onto the sofa as Vincent stormed out of the kitchen. He stopped short when he spotted Tony and sat next to his friend.

  “We’ll figure somethin’ out. I’m still gonna try to talk to my mom some more,” Vincent said.

  “Your ma is right. I ain’t her problem. I’m gonna have to figure out a place to go. I can’t live at my house. I’ll end up in some kinda group home or orphanage or somethin’. I can’t go to one of those places. I heard a lot of bad things about what happens to kids there.”

  Tony paused and sat back against the sofa.

  “Maybe Salvatore will have some ideas. Ya know he’s always good wit’ coming up wit’ shit that we don’t even think about. Maybe ya can live at his house for a while,” Vincent offered.