LITMIR.BIZ

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seen before. He was thin and taller than me. He wore a tan shirt with a logo I’d never seen, dark green jean-shorts, and Puma sneakers. I walked around the game to where the rest of the kids stood.

      “Who’s that?” I asked Mario.

      “That’s the new kid,” Mario replied, whipping his long hair out of his face. “He just moved into the apartments over there.” He nodded toward the large apartments down the alley that faced onto Olive Ave.

      The new kid looked Oriental. He had black, slicked-back hair tied up in a pony-tail, and he was good. He was beating Ryan, bad—seven-zip.

      “Where’s he from?” I asked.

      “California, right?” Mario asked, looking at the girls, who were all giggling and whispering.

      “Uh huh, Ca-li-for-nia,” Hyacinth said, throwing exuberant emphasis on each syllable. She twirled her finger through her hair and watched the game. My throat tightened, and my palms itched, and I wanted to play real bad. I didn’t know why, but I already hated this new kid.

      The new kid ended up winning, 11-2.

      “Good game,” Ryan said as they shook hands. “Damn, you beat my ass.”

      “Naw, good game,” the new kid said as he wiped the sweat from his forehead, then slid his hand along his gleaming hair.

      “Aye, you meet Joe yet? He’s my best friend,” Ryan said, nodding toward me. “Aye, Joe, this the new kid. What you say your name was?”

      “Angel,” the kid said.

      The girls muttered, “Angel, Angel,” and giggled.

      “What’s up,” I said, nodding to him. Then, I grabbed the ball out of Ryan’s hands. “We shootin’ for captains or what?”

      All the boys got in line to shoot at the long, crooked crack in the center of the alley. I shot first and made it. Ryan shot and missed. I grabbed the rebound and shoved a hard bounce pass to Angel, who caught it by his chest. He glared at me. His mouth hung open, and his dark eyes dampened. Then, he shot and made it.

      “Shoot for first pick,” Ryan said, passing the ball to Angel.

      Angel took it and shoved a hard pass to me. We glowered at each other again. My heart pattered, ready to drop the ball and unload fists into his mug.

      “Go ahead,” Angel urged.

      My heart thumped in my chest. I turned and shot a long, arching one that clanged off the side of the rim. We picked teams, and everyone knew who was guarding who. I stood with my back to the garage, said, “Check ball,” and bounced it to Angel. He caught it, looked at it, and passed it back to me. I faked left and went right, then surged past Angel and shot one of my runners that banked home. I jogged back to the far line and smiled at Hyacinth. She grinned back and revealed the small gap in her front teeth.

      Angel dribbled the ball towards the check line.

      “Naw, we play keeps around here,” I said, then snatched the ball from him.

      I checked the ball to Angel, then faked a pass. He leapt at it, and I giggled as he stumbled. I put up a shot from right there and instantly knew I’d missed, so I darted to the side of the hoop I thought it’d clang towards. Angel slashed for the rebound, too. The ball jolted high off the rim and arced downward. We both leapt and collided in mid-air, but I had more inertia and toppled him sideways, snagging the ball with both hands before I landed. I then took it out to the side. Angel trailed me. I stopped, then drove straight at him. He stood his ground. I dug my shoulder into his solar plexus, and he stumbled. I bounced back and passed to Mario. Suddenly, Angel cut in front of the pass and stole the ball.

      He dribbled back to take the ball out and reset the play, and I followed him. He cut right quickly and surged past me. I pursued as he drove in and went for a lay-up. I swooped in, leapt up, and blocked the shot from behind before I landed full-force onto his back. We tumbled and crashed into my garage with a thunderous boom. Angel spun under me and with his back against the garage and pushed me hard in my face and chest.

      A bubbling rage ignited in my shoulders, and I stood up and pushed Angel as he got to his feet. Then, I punched him in the cheek. Mario jumped between us, but Ryan shoved him out of the way.

      “Naw, let ’em fight,” Ryan sneered.

      Angel and I squared-up. His face was all tied up in a knot, and he rushed me without warning. He flung quick fists that smacked me in the head and face; they felt like speeding little stones. I swung wild and missed, and he peppered me as I stumbled sideways. I reached out and grabbed his shirt, and he kneed me in the sternum. All my wind jettisoned from my mouth and nostrils. I collapsed to my knees on the concrete, awestruck at how fast he was, and how he’d delivered all those blows without hesitation or even thinking about it. I gripped my chest, and he wacked me with a hard punch on the side of my head.

      “Are ya done?” he asked.

      I was about to say ‘yeah’ when Lil Pat stormed out of the gangway. He plucked me up off the ground by my collar and shoved Angel away from me. He bent down and looked me in the eyes. His beard and mustache were scruffy and dirty. Fried chicken was all over his breath.

      “Joey, don’t you let that little spick whoop you,” Lil Pat said and clouted me across the cheek. “Now get in there God damn it!” He shoved me towards Angel. I closed my eyes, squeezed my fists, and started swinging haymakers.

      I stormed forward. My hard, looping punches landed and drove Angel into the wooden plank fence across the alley. Angel smashed against it hard. Then he bent over at the waist and covered his head. I lumped him up nasty. He crumpled and curled into a ball at my feet. These little whining sounds poured out of him. Suddenly, it struck me: this poor kid just came out here trying to make some new friends, and now look at him. Look at me. Lil Pat walked up and grabbed me by the shoulder.

      “Atta boy, Joey. Don’t ever let nobody whoop you in dis alley,” he said. Then, he patted me on the back and walked me away from Angel, who laid there curled-up and whimpering.

      Lil Pat grabbed the basketball from the ground where it had rolled to a stop and shot. Angel stood, stumbled, and ran towards his house.

      “Well, you don’t gotta worry about him no more,” Lil Pat laughed.

      I looked over at Hyacinth who was watching Angel with her hand over her open mouth. She scowled at me and shook her head. Then, she huffed off towards her house, and the other girls followed. A blue rust bucket pulled in to the mouth of the alley at Hermitage, and we all flinched at its bright, rectangular headlights. Lil Pat walked over and got in, and it eased slowly through our court.

      Most of the kids left after that. I didn’t feel like playing anymore and sat against my garage. A headache set in. After a while, it was just Ryan and I. He sat down next to me with the ball under his bent legs.

      “What was that all about, man?” he asked.

      “I don’t know,” I replied.

      “He’s an alright kid,” Ryan said, shrugging.

      “Yeah.” I looked down the empty alley where he’d run. “He probably is. Thanks for letting us get it over with.”

      “No problem.”

      “He gave me a fat lip,” I said, rubbing the bubble along my lower lip.

      “Imagine the way he feels,” Ryan replied, arching his red eyebrows.

      “Yeah,” I said, and looked down the quiet, narrow alley.

      “Alright, man, I’m gonna head home,” Ryan said as he stood. “You OK, right?”

      “Yeah, I’m fine,” I said, standing up slowly. “Aye, if you see that kid around, man, tell him I’m sorry, OK?”

      “Alright, man. I’ll tell him.”

      We shook hands and Ryan disappeared down the alley. I stood there

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