A Hero Grows in Brooklyn
Page 13
Steve thinks about the goofing off that goes on in Mrs. Vogt’s class, the one in which Ron stuck a pin in his butt and paper planes fly around the room. He wriggles about in his seat, again puts his hands on his head, and finally, he says: “All… all right. I guess I wanna learn.”
* * * *
When Steve returns to Mrs. Kreetch’s class, she’s in the middle of a lesson. She pauses as Steve enters the room. His temples are throbbing. Tightness clutches at his chest.
Mrs. Kreetch crosses her arms and her right foot begins to tap.
“It was a mistake to criticize you in front of the class,” Steve says. “I’m sorry. I intend to do my homework from now on.”
“Go take your seat, Mr. Marino,” says Mrs. Kreetch huffily, and she then proceeds with her lesson.
* * * *
After class, one of Steve’s classmates, this guy, Falco, comes up to him and says, “I really respected da way you stood up ta that bitch. And den when you came back to class and gave her that apology—m-a-a-a-n!”
“Well, ya see, I had this conversation with Mr. Imperiale, and I kinda like him, and… well he kinda thought it’d be a good idea if I apologized.”
Steve’s mind is only half in the conversation he’s having with Falco. The other half is on the class he has after gym. His reunion with the guy that the other kids call Godzilla is now only fifty-five minutes away. Steve tries to remember what Godzilla’s real name is. What is it? Damn! What is it? Warren! That’s it! Warren! “Listen, Falco, I gotta go now. I’ll talk to you more about this later.”
In the gym, Steve finds himself frequently looking up at the round clock on the wall. When the bell rings, he bites his lower lip.
He goes down to the locker room, changes his clothes, leaps up two flights of stairs, and then hurries down a hallway lined with student art. When he steps into his mechanical drawing class, he eyes the situation. Warren is already at his seat. His teacher, Mr. Carmello, is by his desk rubbing his mustache.
“Excuse me, Mr. Carmello,” says Steve. “Let me have a minute to talk to Warren alone out in the hall.”
“I’m not letting you two alone. What? So you can get into another fight. You’re crazy. Go take your seat.”
“I don’t want to fight him,” Steve replies. “I just gotta talk with him, for a minute. Please.”
Mr. Carmello fiddles with his moustache as he considers the situation. “Warren,” he says after a few seconds, “Steve Marino over here, he says he wants to talk with you out in the hall. You want to talk to him?”
“I don’t care,” Warren answers with a tough snarl.
Mr. Carmello fiddles some more with his moustache for a few seconds. Then he pulls on the lapels of his worn gray sports jacket, clears his voice with a throaty—“Ah, hum,” and proclaims his decision. “Steve, Warren, I’ll let you two talk outside the classroom but with the door open. Both of you are to stay at all times in my sight. I’ll be watching through the doorway, but you can stand far enough away so you can have some privacy. If I hear your voices shouting or you get into a fight, you’ll just have to go immediately to the principal’s office.”
Outside in the hall, alone with Warren, Steve paces back and forth several times and then he looks up and says: “Listen, Warren, I’m stuck. My neck is still killing me. You’re twice my size. What would you do if a guy twice your size started to hassle you?”
Warren pulls his head back and his pupils, wide and open, glare into Steve’s eyes. He firmly crosses his arms in front of his chest while his hands grasp his shoulders. “You askin’ me?”
“Yeah, I’d like your opinion.”
“I guess… well… well I guess I like yer plan a little,” Warren answers haltingly. “I mean dat plan of yours… you know… where ya hassle somebody fer twenty-four hours. It might work wit’ some guys. It’d probably’d ov worked wit’ me ‘cause I really don’t wanna go ta no 600 school. Ya gotta take a train dere. And Mr. Imperiale, he ain’t just threatenin’ ta send me dere neither. He’d really do it ‘cause I seen him do it ta t’ree udduh kids since I’ve been heah. So yer plan might ‘ov worked wit’ me, and maybe wit’ some udduh kids too. But you do it wit’ some udduh kids—ye’re dead. Like wit’ Harold an’ Anita’s gang, the Skull Bones. Dis guy, Gary, stood up ta dem an’ ended up da next day stabbed ta death in an alley. What are ya gonna do when ya meet up wit’ dem, Steve? Huh? And yer gonna meet up wit’ dem. Everyone ‘round heah gets shit from dem. What are ya gonna do den, Steve? Huh?”
Steve has no answer. He just gets quiet and then says softly, “I heard about some teenager recently getting killed around here but this stuff about Harold and Anita’s gang, I don’t know nothing about them. All I know is I’m not looking for any trouble from you.” Then he looks into Warren’s eyes and offers him his right hand. Warren looks into Steve’s eyes, and growls, “I ain’t shakin’ ya hand yet. Ya treat me wit’ respect and maybe den.”
“That’s fair, Warren,” Steve says. “Is there anything else you want to say to me.”
“Just don’t mess wit’ me.”
“OK.”
As the boys return to their seats, one kid moans, “Aaaa, I thought there was gonna be a big fight.”
Mr. Carmello explains to Steve and Warren their assignment which involves neatly printing under a mechanical drawing words that identify what it is. The boys get down to work.
“You’re working too fast,” says Mysterious Jane to Steve after a few minutes. “If you slow down, it’ll look neater.”
Steve compares his lettering to Jane’s and to his dismay he sees his work looks like trash. He then turns to the seat in back of him where Warren is working. “Your lettering also looks way better than mine,” Steve says.
“Jane’s right,” says Warren, “Ya gotta slow down.”
Marone, Steve says to himself, slow down! Slow down! Who the hell can focus on this lettering crap with those murderers around? “Jane,” he says in a whisper, “Warren was telling me about this gang, the Skull Bones. You know anything about them?”
CHAPTER 25
As Steve carefully forms the letter “B” for his assignment, Mysterious Jane begins in a strained whisper.
“Some of the gang members have younger brothers and sisters who go to Cunningham, so you have to be careful what you say around them. Most of what I know comes from talking to them and some other kids who have older brothers and sisters who went to school with them.
“The gang members went to Cunningham a couple of years ago. They were supposed to go to Lincoln this year but the evil spirit within Anita has now managed to completely enchain all of the gang members. Anita’s spirit uses them like puppets. Having them go to school serves it not in the least.”
Steve notices Warren and others around him have now caught on to what Jane is saying and are leaning toward her, intensely listening. Mr. Carmello also notices, and moves toward Jane. “Go on,” he says to her, “I’m interested in this too.”
With this, Jane’s whisper turns into a more distinct oratory storytelling voice. “Several kids told me that when Harold was in fifth grade, his class took this field trip. On the bus, Harold got motion sickness, became nauseous, and threw up all over himself. On account of that, Harold spent the rest of his elementary school days being called ‘Puke Face’ and ‘Vomit Mouth.’”
“Yeah, yeah, dat’s what I heard too from my brother,” says Warren, leaning toward Jane. “Like, kids would see him comin’ and dey’d say, ‘How’s it goin’, Puke Face?’ Or, ‘Look out, it’s Vomit Mouth!’”
“It was pretty cruel,” Jane says, “and a few of the kids didn’t know when to lay off, pressing him on until he’d start to cry and then they still wouldn’t lay off, calling him a cry baby to boot.”
“My brother, he told me da same thing,” says Warren. “Da kids at school used ta really crap on him somethin’ fierce.”
“Yeah,” says Warren. “He suddenly grew a ton and he began wit’ dis weight liftin’ stuff.”
“He didn’t just get bigger and stronger,” says Jane. “When he was young he had this baby face, but by the time he turned 15, his facial features became manlier and downright attractive.”
“Yeah, yeah!” says Warren. “Den there was da big church dance, Jane. Tell dem ‘bout da big church dance where he first met dis here Anita!”
“Well, what I heard was that the two talked, danced, and were swept off their feet. At one point during the dance, some guy named Cal, who went to elementary school with Harold, comes over and asks Anita to dance. Anita takes Harold by the arm, looks up into his blue eyes, and says romantically, ‘I’m with Harold.’
“Well, this Cal laughs and says: ‘You’re with Haaaarold? Haaaarold? You’re with Haaaarold? You know what we used to call Haaaarold in elementary school? Puke Face! That’s what we’d call him. Puke Face.’
“‘SHUT UP!’ Harold screams.
“‘How’s it goin’, Old Puke Face?’ Cal baits.
“Harold leaps on this guy, and the two go at it like two rabid dogs. It takes six adults to tear them apart.”
“Yeah, yeah,” says Warren. “That’s what I heard too, only right after da fight, Anita says ta Harold: ‘I love a guy who don’t take no shit from no one.’”
Mr. Carmello frowns at Warren’s remark but let’s the discussion continue.
“Anita had already started a gang called the ‘Skull Bones’ before she met Harold,” says Jane. “Now with her and Harold in love, they start to run the gang together. Since then, about two or three times a month, the Skull Bones have been trapping some of us students on the way to school and they make us cough up all of our lunch money. Although the gang members like the money, they seemed to do it more for the respect that they think they’re getting and to feed Anita’s evil spirit. The money actually only amounts to a few bucks.”
“That’s what confused me when I read the report that the teachers received,” says Mr. Carmello. “The report states that the testimony from the students indicates that when the Skull Bones steal, they surround a few kids on one of the residential blocks in the area. The fact that they’ve been doing this in broad daylight for so little money seemed to me like utter stupidity. But the report says that the gang members are aware that with this type of crime there’s little risk. All the gang members are minors. If caught by the police, what would be the penalty? No one in New York City goes to jail for stealing six dollars. Probably their parents would be called and they would be threatened that if they get caught again, they’ll have to go in front of a real judge. If they were caught more than once, maybe they would have to go in front of a judge who, at worst, would make them spend a few nights at juvenile hall. Doing a little time in juvee actually is viewed as a badge of honor. Because they’re minors, any record the gang members would get wouldn’t follow them into adulthood.”
When Mr. Carmello pauses here, the classroom students turn their eyes from him to Jane. She says, “Some of the younger brothers and sisters of the Skull Bones claim, in a tone that sounds like boasting, that all of the gang members have spent time on multiple occasions in juvee for assorted capers. But I’m not sure about that.”
“Me neither,” says Warren. “But tell dem ‘bout how last summer the Skull Bones were crapped on by da Canarsie Cobras and Anita, she ends up saying, ‘We wouldn’t be treated like dis if we had knives. No one messes wit’ a gang wit’ knives!’”
“That’s what I heard too,” says Jane. “And Anita’s evil spirit lifted up its twisted face and breathed fire into all of the gang members and each went out and purchased these fancy switchblades with skull bones embossed on the handles. And there is no question about it; people did start to treat them with more respect—until this one kid, Gary, gets fed up with being pushed around.
“It happened just the week before you got here, Steve. Fifteen gang members surround Gary and four other students. As Gary hands over his lunch money, he tells Anita and Harold what people really think of them. ‘They may treat you with respect to your face, but they spit on your souls as soon as your backs are turned.’
“Well, the gang members had gotten used to being treated with respect even if they knew in the back of their minds that they got it from being feared. I guess Gary’s comments upset this image.
“The gang members were not so stupid as to do anything to Gary in front of witnesses. Instead, they glared while letting him walk away with just a hard punch to the stomach. But the next morning Gary’s body is found in an alley with several knife wounds through his heart. The police suspect Harold and Anita’s gang, question them, but I guess they don’t have enough proof to arrest anyone.”
When Mysterious Jane gets to this part of the story, Steve begins to rub his forehead and bite his lower lip.
“The weird thing about Harold and Anita,” Mysterious Jane continues, “is that all of their power comes from Anita. Harold’s probably the most spiritually weak person I’ve ever seen. He’s like a candle with all of the wax gone and the flame just barely flickering. The slightest breeze can snuff him out. Anita, on the other hand, is like a raging forest fire. In fact, when I met her I began to have trouble sleeping because I felt that she’d soon have us all either as her slaves or burnt to a crisp—and there was nothing we could do. That’s why when I first saw you I got so excited. I know you can save us, Steve. As powerful as Anita is, she’s no match for you. She has about as much chance against you as a fire has at the bottom of the deepest sea.”
* * * *
When the bell rings, Steve goes directly to the principal’s office.
“Mr. Imperiale is busy with someone right now, young man,” the secretary tells Steve.
“I have to see him. How long do you think it’ll be?”
“I’m not sure.”
Steve starts to pace. Pete’s gonna be home by himself waiting for me. Damn it, he’s just gonna have to wait!
After a half hour, Mr. Imperiale steps out of his office with several irate parents. “We’re doing our best,” he says to them.
“It’s not enough!” shouts a young woman.
As the parents leave the office, the secretary whispers to Mr. Imperiale, “The young man pacing over there, he wishes to meet with you.”
“OK. Send him in.”
* * * *
“Did you hear about this Harold and Anita gang?” Steve wants to know.
Mr. Imperiale turns red. He shuffles through some papers, gets up, paces around, glances through his window at the bare maple tree, and then sits down. “I can only tell you, Steve, that catching Gary’s murderer is my number one priority. We’re doing a lot, but I can’t tell you what. Just stay away from Harold and Anita’s gang if at all possible. I’m supposed to be an educator. Instead of helping kids to learn, I’m breaking up fights and trying to find murderers.” It looks like a vein is going to pop in Mr. Imperiale’s neck.
“I just wanted to know that something’s being done,” says Steve. Then he quietly leaves.
Steve had hoped to have some time to think about how to handle the gang. What should his reaction be? What are the pros and cons of each of his options? But before he has any plan…
CHAPTER 26
It’s Tuesday morning, November 19, 1963—the very day after Warren and Mysterious Jane tell Steve about Harold and Anita’s gang. With his loose-leaf notebook and science book under his right arm, Steve walks down a flight of stairs and exits from his apartment building onto Avenue U. A chilly breeze whips against his sleepy face. He passes by the deli, Buster Brown’s Shoes, the Italian bakery, and then, as he comes to a corner newsstand, he
runs into Jane and a couple of her friends. Quite a few other students are heading toward school.
At East 15th Street, the kids turn left down a residential block, and a few seconds later a kid cries, “Oh no!” Racing out of two apartment building lobbies and then quickly forming a circle, are about fifteen gang members that entrap ten students, including Steve and Jane.
Harold is holding a glimmering knife and he slices it through the air while crying out, “All right, my little kiddies, let’s have it.”
Steve looks at Harold. He’s only a little taller than me. Marone, he’s pointing that blade right at that kid’s throat!
Fourteen other gang members are pushing students around while flashing their glimmering knives. Pockets begin to empty.
That must be Anita standing at the edge of the circle smirking. Man, she’s actually real pretty. Shit, Harold’s coming toward me. I gotta get out of here. Those guys with knives are all around me.
“Where’s your money?” Harold says as he yells at Steve while waving his knife.
Steve’s mind races. He eyes Harold, with his curly, brown hair, dark rings circling his eyes like he hasn’t slept in days, nose red and dripping like he has a bad flu. On account of my free lunch card I didn’t bring any money. Man, I’m screwed!
“I don’t have any money,” Steve answers, as he gasps deep sharp breaths.
“Don’t give me that shit!” screams Harold, and with a sudden movement he starts to come at Steve with his knife.
There is a move that Steve had practiced over and over again in his summer self defense classes, and with a flashing fury racing through his veins he begins its execution. First, a sidestep, then a fluid turn while grabbing Harold’s knife wielding hand, and then a wrenching twist. Harold, in horror, finds he is falling backwards and with a thud the back of his head smacks into the cement pavement. At that same instant, Steve feels a sharp jab to his side. God, some guy just stuck me with a knife! With a terror and ferocity never imagined, he turns and slugs the guy who jabbed him squarely in the jaw.