Over Brooklyn

The sky was bathed in twilight. The chimneys dark squares with gray plumes of smoke curling from their mouths. The smoke rose up to the dark night's sky, swirling around clouds of gray, wanting to burst through to the stars that were begging an escape from the smog. The rooftops seemed to continue on for infinity, their tips Blinking the edge of the sky in jagged angular cuts. Tiny cooing sounds came from the right side of the roof where a rickety old pigeon coop was located. A towering fortress looming over its rooftop kingdom. Pigeons milled around the tar topped floor, pecking at whatever scraps of corn were left from their feeding earlier that day. The gray pigeon bent its head backwards and began to muddle through its feathers, its head thoroughly encased by the gray softness. Everything was shadowed. The shadows crept from behind walls and from deep within corners till the rooftop I was sitting on was a pond of black. The darkness always seemed to sneak up on me, dissipating the light rapidly like the wave of a hand. The shadows swept over the faces of my friends making them look like ghostly figments of themselves. Their faces gaining a ghastly monstrous appearance. They became creatures of the night, coming alive under the blue moon.

I was slouched down comfortably in my family's old leather recliner, the top had been patched with a piece of denim and there was a wide slash in the seat reminiscent of a gaping cavern. I kicked up my feet and propped them on the makeshift crate table, my heels catching on an edge of one of the slats. My friends and I had stolen the wooden crates from behind Iavarone Brothers awhile ago and lugged them up onto the roof to use for our own benefit instead of having them thrown away.

My girlfriend had squeezed herself onto my lap, her round ass pressed deep against my crotch, warming it like a blanket. Blink leaned over his knees, cracking his knuckles one by one and as he did so, allowed a lazy down turned smirk to appear on his lips.

"We're gonna get those mothafuckas and kill 'em." The group of us, all shrouded in darkness, rolled our eyes with a collective groan. This was Blink's nightly tirade. He spoke on and on about how those greedy bastards from Staten Island came up in here and tried to act tough and shit. Then his arms would start flailing wildly like a birds in erratic flight. Spit would come flying out of his mouth from his excitement, little specs of it landing on our unsuspecting faces. Droplets of his beer would spill out from the bottle's top. On the whole, it was fucking hilarious to watch until eventually we started to realize he was actually serious. Jack sighed loudly and tipped some beer into his open mouth, looking much like a guppy gulping water, then swallowed loudly. He glanced at me with a look of sheer boredom in his lazy blue eyes.

"You say that every night we're up here. Every fucking night, Blink . Why don't you stop talking shit, get off your ass and do something already?" Casey said, pointing her beer bottle at his face, eyes narrowed slyly .

"Well, whatcha say Race? Why don't we take that beat up truck of yours and head over to that sorry excuse of a borough?" Blink asked me, leaning back against the old beach chair he was seated in. Another of our brilliant rooftop decorating ideas was to situate ripping beach chairs around the crate table and recliner. I shrugged a shoulder, let my feet drop to the rooftop, reached over Casey and grabbed the pack of cigarettes from the crate. I slapped the pack loudly against my palm and then popped a filter into my mouth.

"Depends on if you got the balls or not." I said, somewhat muffled by the stick in-between my lips. I shrouded the tip with my palm and lit the tobacco-ed end.

"Oh I got the balls. I got balls enough for every guy there." Blink responded. Jack laughed, blowing herb smelling smoke from his nose with a choking cough, his fingers curled around the circular shaped pipe. The smell of pot had always been enticing to me, a sweet scent that I could sense from a block away. The smoke curled around my nostrils and forced me to deeply inhale, taking the tart wisps deep into my lungs. I didn't care if pot was illegal.

"Yeah right. You ain't even got balls enough to take me." I couldn't help but laugh at Jack's statement. It was true. Blink wouldn't even fight a fly. I cupped my cigarette almost into my fist, holding it secure from the wind and any other obstacle that might steal my precious nicotine away from me.

"Listen to me, Blink." I leaned forward, reaching my cupped hand to his face. "You go over there, start trouble and then chicken out and I'll kick your ass personally. It'll just start trouble for us here, got it?" I flicked the cupped cigarette with my three free fingers, the lit end giving off a pleasant warmth on the palm of my hand, gave it a slight shake and then brought it to my lips.

"I'm gonna go there and do what I gotta do."

"Don't be fucking stupid, Blink." Jack said sternly, his voice raised slightly in pitch from holding the psyche altering drug deep in his lungs. Evidently it hadn't kicked in yet. Blink snatched the bowl from Jack and took a hit for himself.

"Tonight. I'm heading over the Verrazano and taking out those bastards one by one."

"Yeah, ok." I rolled my eyes, noticing slightly that Casey had tuned us out. She was already complacent with the whole idea and would have liked to drag me off into the back alley to do some dirty, morally unacceptable things to my body. I can't say I would have minded very much, but I was stuck with my asshole friends on top of my roof. They'd probably be there until at least four in the morning, fuck.

"Blink forget it. It ain't worth it. They ain't worth the little time we got." I said to him, trying to at least get through to him, though I knew I was talking to a brick wall by this point, considering he was under the influence. Blink's mouth opened to reply but stopped as soon as he heard the entrance to the roof crack open in a earth shattering screech.

"Race?" I heard a not yet matured boy's voice call. I turned my head to glance at the door and saw my scrawny little brother's head peeking through the black space. Truthfully, I noticed the broad tortoiseshell glasses surrounding his little brown eyes first. He sniffled through his nose, he had a cold again. It was as though I could hear the mucus echoing in his chest every time he came anywhere near me. My brother was like a magnet for any sort of germ that turned up in the medical field and was highly susceptible to asthma attacks. He carried his pump in his back pocket always for he never knew when one was to come on. He was tiny for his age, more than tiny, puny. I always felt that if he were to fall down he would snap in half like a brittle piece of wood. I rubbed a hand over my face, trying to muffle the groan escaping from the back of my throat.

"What do you want?" I spat at him harshly. I knew he was petrified of my friends and shook with the sight of them. I could crush my baby brother with my pinky finger if I wanted to, though I never would. I acted like the mean older brother I was supposed to be but truthfully I adored the kid. I would protect him with my life if it ever came down to it.

"Don't talk to him like that!" Casey yelled at me and slapped me on the back of the head. I grunted and rubbed the sore spot with a defeated look on my face which earned sBlinkers from Blink and Jack. "What'cha want Benny?" Casey asked him sweetly.

"Mama's cryin' downstairs and Race's always up here," He bit his lip tentatively and shuffled his feet, still gripping the golden doorknob of the heavy metal door. "I didn't know you'se were up here." I sighed heavily and patted Casey on the back. She got up from my lap, the cold rushing to the empty space like a fierce slap. I flicked my cigarette with the same three fingers, shook it and finally took a long drag before sending the item sailing like a rocket over the edge of the roof. I walked over to my brother and crouched down to his height.

"You can't stay up here." I told him quietly. He nodded slowly but still didn't move. I raked fingers through my brown hair and glanced back over my shoulder, the boys warning me not to let the twerp stay. They don't wanna play babysitter and I couldn't blame them for that. Casey on the other hand had stood, hands on her hips, a watchful eye, making sure that I chose the right thing. That would be, of course, to let Ben stay on the roof with me while my mother dealt with whatever the fuck she was dealing with in her room downstairs. Casey had a soft spot for Ben and when he was feeling badly about being bullied or something else she would let him sit with us in my room and watch a movie of his choice which usually turned out to be The Goonies. Ben loved Casey like an older sister. Ben rubbed his nose and looked down at his muddied sneakers. I sighed heavily.

"Fine," I relented, took his hand and lead him over to the group. "You don't like it you can leave." I said sternly to the boys who were starting to protest adamantly to the presence of a ten year old in our midst.

"I gotta get out of here anyways. My dad's been on a rampage about me having some responsibility and all that bullshit," Jack said with a shrug. "See ya around Race."

Jack's dad was a locksmith, and a good one. At a young age Jack had learned how to jimmy car doors, use a bobby pin to bust open locks and hot wire a car. Later on he learned how to open a securely locked safe. He liked breaking into places just to be there after hours and mull around. In our senior year of high school he broke us into New Town and we roamed around the halls for a good three hours. Jack's father had a firm belief that he would take over the shop after he retired. Jack didn't care, though becoming a locksmith wasn't first on his list of ideal jobs.

"Yeah, see ya around." I said with a nod. The minute Jack stood, so did Blink . That's the way Blink was, he followed whenever someone was willing to lead. I waited for the echoing slam of the metal door. After it closed Casey skillfully swept the swirled glass bowl into her bag and zipped it closed. I started to dump the empty beer bottles into a black garbage bag I kept in the corner for such occasions. Ben had by now moved his way over to the edge of the roof, his arms laid flat against the ledge while he peered down.

"Race, I can't see." He called to me, looking over his shoulder at me. His glasses slumped down over the bridge of his nose. I set down the garbage bag and went over to him, lifting him up easily and setting him on his knees atop the ledge, keeping a firm grip around his waist.

"Who's car is Blink getting into?" He asked with eyes wide, using his index finger to lift his glasses back up on his nose. I hadn't been paying attention and so at the mention of unfamiliarity I leaned over to catch a glimpse. I'd never seen that crowd before but Blink seemed to be very acquainted with them. I watched a brief conversation occur, hand shaking, and cigarettes being tossed to the ground. They all entered the car. As soon as the black car door slammed shut they sped off down the street, a high pumping base echoing in their wake. Casey had meandered over to us just in time to see the car speed off. She glanced at me with worried eyes and I said nothing, instead looking down at my brother.

"Ain't nothing you should worry about. C'mon, it's cold up here and I got work tomorrow." I patted Ben on the back before setting him down on the ground safely. I collected my pack of cigarettes from the crate, shoved them in my back pocket and hoisted the garbage bag over my shoulder. I let Casey and Ben head down the stairs before me and as I shut the door I could still hear the pumping of Lose Yourself blasting from the black Benz zooming down the block. I heard the loud screeching of the tires as the car whipped around the corner and careened down the next street.

Sheepshead Bay held lone fisherman trying to catch tiny trout. When the fishing boats would come in to dock I could hear the old men calling out their prize, waiting for a restaurant owner to purchase their stock for the day. The cries echoed down the piers and docks of Sheepshead, a constant buzz flying to the end of Brooklyn. The fishing boats with their shouting crews drifted out into the bright morning sun towards Oyster Bay, the gurnies squeaking as the sails unfolded into the wind. The nets were dropped into the fresh water and waited to catch the unsuspecting prey of fish filets, salmon and other delicious tasting fish. Party boats retreated into the darkening sunset, making a smudge on the bright neon colors of red and gold in the far distance. The patrons of such boats dressed in flashing cocktail dresses and starched suits. Men sweating and tired hauled cargo onto boats, grunting with the weight of their burden. The crates groaning as they were moved from place to place, protesting the next destination to which they would arrive.

The docks protruded out to the bay inviting daily water activity by whoever chose to partake in it. Each length of dock seemed to stretch farther than the eye could see, catching the far end of the bay with its squared rim, a line leading out to infinity. The sharp smell of the bay and fish caught daily loitered in the air like a smog floating in the sky. A sharp cut through my nostrils. The faint cry of seagulls squawking in the distance and the flapping of their wings against the sunlit sky carried across like a melody.

The boardwalk was loaded with an array of fish restaurants each quaint and nestled securely close to the water. Any passerby could chose among an assorted amount of elaborate restaurants. Lundy's was one of these restaurants, nestled into this quiet part of Brooklyn near the water's edge. I had come to loathe the smell of fish, the taste and even the way a fish looked. The round bloated stomach. The cold, filmy, staring eyes. The eyes of the dead fish seemed to stare out at nothing, never locking on a sight or blinking. The silver scales shone like blades under the florescent lights of the kitchen. I watched their heads chopped off carelessly, the lifeless body part getting flung haphazardly into a nearby gray garbage pail.

I also hated serving people for a living, especially the ones who left me crappy tips thinking I didn't deserve it. Old ladies with white poufy hair dropped me quarters for the trouble of serving them. Men in business suits would leave me a buck on a fifty dollar tab. I would grind my teeth, flash a fake thankful grin and walk away with my hand clenched in a fist wanting to punch them.

I had worked my entire life. From the time I realized my family couldn't afford to buy me special toys. I had started walking dogs for a dollar, cleaning off snow from cars and shoveling sidewalks for a price that I bartered with individuals. Over the years I'd worked in pizzerias, bakeries, and even Fortunata Brothers making foamy cappuccinos.

Lundy's was my current evening job while I worked at Pier 13 in the mornings, unloading and loading cargo ships. Currently, college was out of the question and so I made a living by hard labor. My manager Elliot, had called me earlier this morning and asked me to come into work. I took up the opportunity for the extra cash immediately and hopped on the subway out to Sheepshead. I had the day off at the docks.

Currently I was standing outside the back door to Lundy's, smoking next to the acrid scent of dumpsters and garbage bags. I could smell the dirt floating up from the alley, a murky film in the air of the small space that I frequented in the evenings. Late at night I would see rats the size of cats scuffling through the garbage, hoarding their findings like diamonds. Their tales long like the body of a snake. The afternoon light was dim here and filtered into the alley at a sharp angle across from me, glistening a soft yellow hue while I was clouded in a dark shadow. I gave my cigarette a quick flick and shake before placing in my mouth as the chimes of my cell phone began to ring in my back pocket. I reached for it, flipped it open and held it to my ear.

"Yeah?"

"That fucking moron. He jumped one of those guys last night. Gino's boys went with him." It was Jack. I knew someone had to be an influence on Blink, he never thought for himself and Gino wasn't exactly the greatest influence on anybody. He was hard and cold, six months out of jail and always looking for trouble. I don't mean mischievous trouble like me and my friends, more like dangerous trouble. The kind of trouble that I would have rather avoided.

"You're kidding me." I said in disbelief.

"I ain't making this up. Why would I do that? The kid's in bad shape. Watch your back, alright?"

"Yeah. Yeah, ok."

"I gotta go, shit to do. Houses to open, locks to install. You know, same shit different day." The disdain in my friend's voice was clear. I could hear the screaming of Jack's father in the background, "Get your lazy ass back inside!" That was the way Mr. Santorini summoned his son back to work or for anything else.

"I hear ya. Call if anything else turns up, alright?"

"No problem."

I couldn't believe it. Blink, the same Blink who backed out of a fight in fifth grade because it was morally unacceptable, just went to someone else's territory and beat up a kid. Un-fucking-believable. All I knew was, all of us were in trouble now. It didn't matter if we were there or not. This was our fight now.

"Race! Daydreaming out there or what? Get your ass inside and get to work. I don't pay you to sit out there and dilly dally all day! Come on!" Fucking prick, I wish I could smash Elliot's face in one of these days. When I quit I'll make sure to spit on him. I tossed my cigarette to the floor and rushed through the door. I made sure to squeeze passed the monumental sized Elliot who to me resembled something of an elephant.

When my shift was over I ran from there as quick as the speed of light, charging down to the subway station. I was going to be late picking up Ben from school.

My mother was useless. I couldn't help but hate her deep down in my gut. The hate for that woman spread through me like a suicidal poison, sucking the life from my veins and souring even the sweetest of candies. After my father left her she fell into a deep depression, laden with self pity and self loathing. I was supporting my entire family while my father continued to ignore our growing poverty. It was as though him and his new Barbie doll girlfriend lived in a dreamlike fantasy world where remnants of reality no longer existed. Shit, I hated him too. If I never had to see my father again it wouldn't matter to me in the slightest but I knew it mattered to Ben. Ben hadn't seen our father in close to a month and I knew it was bothering him deep down like a small seed of pain growing in the pit of his stomach.

Ben was sitting hunched on the front steps of the school building, his head in his hands and elbows on his knees. I could see him blow out a deep gust of air from his lungs a sign that he was upset at being left alone, even though he coughed after. I was at least a half hour late and all the other kids had already gone home.

The building was like a mountain behind him. A five hour jail for kids who just wanted to play video games and run outside. I had attended the same elementary school and the teachers now regarded me as a bad kid who needed a "tremendous amount of discipline." At least that's what Ben told me Mr. Lynch said to him. And I told Ben it was bullshit. I watched Ben wheeze in agitation as I hurried toward the school building.

"Ben! I'm so sorry." I called to him as I reached the front gate, wrapping my fingers around the metal bars. I must have looked like a caged animal to my little brother, my cheeks red with fierce running. He responded with a one shouldered shrug. Ben stood and hoisted his bag over his shoulder. Ben kicked open the school gate nearly wacking me in the face causing me to hop back quickly. He started walking far ahead of me. I groaned and rubbed a hand over my face, didn't move for a moment to light a cigarette and hurried to catch up with my little brother. Lines of smoke trailing behind me like Jack and Jill's bread crumbs.

"Ben, I got out of work late," I tried the excuse as a means of a truce. He shrugged again and shoved his hands into his pocket. "Ben?" I sidled up next to him and shoved him with my shoulder.

"Stop it." He whined and rubbed his shoulder. I saw him crack a tentative grin though and smiled.

"That asshole tease you again."

"Yeah, so I threw my pump at him," I laughed. "I hit him square in the forehead."

"Nice!" I patted him on the back with an approving smile.

"Mr. Parson said if I didn't have asthma I'd make a great pitcher," He was grinning broadly. "He said that I could probably even make the Yankees." He looked up at me with wide hopeful eyes, dreams floating across them idly.

"Yeah Ben, you could be a Yankee." I mussed his hair and he swatted my hand away. The truth was Ben would probably never get rid of his asthma and never be big and strong like he wanted, but I couldn't tell him he'd never grow up to be a Yankee or a wrestler or a football player. It wasn't my job to crush my brother's dreams. He wanted so much to be the star player of something yet there was always something holding him back from it. I didn't want another one of those somethings to be me.

Behind me I heard the catch up step of someone following. I turned to glance over my shoulder and noticed a guy about my age following and gaining on me. A loping gate that began to increase steadily. I started to speed up my step as well and Ben in turn tried to keep step with me. The guy's steps grew faster and now I knew he was following me for certain. I grabbed the back of Ben's shirt and started to pull him along, his body twisting sideways making him stumble quickly to catch up. Then I started to run down the block, dragging Ben behind me.

"Race! Slow down! I can't run like that!"

"Keep up!" I yelled down at him and Ben glanced over his shoulder seeing our follower a mere ten steps behind. He tried to pick up his pace and run next to me but instantly started to fall behind. Street signs, buildings and street lamps were blurring past my eyes. Like when I was a kid and stared out of a car window watching the colors of everything mesh together in a mixed up stew due to the rushing speed. Ben had fallen tragically behind and I turned to see the kid almost able to grab my brother. That's when I doubled back. I whipped around at a speed I didn't even know I possessed and rushed toward the pursuer. My eyes only focused on my little brother, locking eyes with Ben, my heart rate speeding up. I was determined to reach him before the kid could hurt him. When I reached him I shoved Ben out of the way and heard him slam into the brick wall. A small shattering sound blasted into my ear as Ben's glasses cracked. A small yelping cry of pain escaped his lips, but there was no time to go to him at the moment. I grabbed the guy by his stupid expensive jacket created by a designer I couldn't even pronounce and shoved him none too gently into the brick wall of Mama's Deli. They made great sausage and peppers by the way. I lifted my fist to his face and sent it slamming against that baby soft cheek so hard my knuckles throbbed with the impact and blood squirted from the side of his mouth. A red ribbon floating down to the pavement below beautifully.

"You ever try to touch my brother again and I'll fucking kill you!" I screamed and shoved him away from the wall. His whole face erupted into a look of fear. He nodded in agreement. "Now, get the fuck out of here!" I watched him speed off down the block like the Road Runner with Wylie Coyote in hot pursuit. The heels of his sneakers kicking up behind him. My stomach growled. I looked at Mama's Deli and wished that I had the five bucks to get me a sausage and peppers hero.

"You ok?" I turned to my brother and asked. He nodded, his eyes wide with terror as he looked up at me. "What?" He shook his head quickly, scooped down to collect the broken glasses and wouldn't look at me for the rest of the walk home. His fingers clutched the frame as if he was holding onto them for dear life. Though his fingers shook anyway. For the first time in his life Ben was afraid of me and I was ashamed of it.

The walk home was silent. A cold fear filled silence. Ben wouldn't look at me, nor even chance a glance in my direction. When we reached the door to our apartment building he went to run inside but I grabbed him by his shoulders. He froze up instantly, big round bug eyes waiting for a slap in the face. His hand clenched around the frame of his useless eye wear.

"Do you know why I did that back there?" I asked him quite seriously. He shook his head nervously. "I did it cause I didn't want nothing to happen to you, alright? If I didn't hit him, he would have hurt you. It's how things are on the street, Ben. You fight or die. If you don't fight you have to be able to run away or you'll die. I know you can't fight and you can't run, so I fought for you." I looked into my brother's eyes for a glint of understanding but they were empty.

"Would you ever hit me like that if you were mad, Race?" He asked in a small child's voice, making him seem younger then what he really was.

"Never. You're my brother. My blood. It's my job to protect you. I might treat you like my annoying little brother, cause you are, but I love ya to death, got it?" I rumpled his hair and flicked his nose. Ben whined and rubbed it vigorously. He smiled mischievously and sent a punch into my shoulder. I feigned hurt and rubbed my arm with a mock pout.

"I'm not annoying," Ben announced triumphantly with his hands on his hips and chin jutted upward.

"Yeah you are and that hurt." I said with a broad grin.

"Stop lying," Ben retorted with a sharp snort. He bit his lip and looked down at his hand. "I broke my glasses."

"I'll buy ya contacts for Christmas? How's that?" I wrapped an arm around his shoulders as we headed inside.

"That would be awesome." He answered brightly and looked up at me with a smile.

Another hang out of the "group" was Pier 13. It only happened that way because I worked there and Adam didn't care if my friends and me took over the place after hours. I could hear the water from the East River lapping up against the molded wood, the watered breeze blowing up against my face as I pulled my jacket tighter around my neck and took tight lipped drags of my cigarette. The damp seeped in everywhere, curling around the empty corners and filling us with a chill. The sun was just beginning to set, the pier bathed in a calming golden glow. The glare of the sun was behind us. That brilliant ball of fire dipping down into the river, sizzling out like the flame of a candle.

I looped my arms around Casey's waist from behind, pulling her up against me and out of the cool wind. I placed my chin atop her shoulder and breathed in the lavender drifting from her hair, eyes closing in a moment of sweet content. My eyes opened as soon as I heard Jack's voice circling through the air.

"Why'd you have to go and start trouble for, huh?" Jack accused Blink, snarling at him as he thrust his hands against Blink's chest. "Race almost got jumped today and Ben was with him."

"I didn't know they'd actually come lookin' for nobody here." Blink responded, rubbing his chest wearily and feigning ignorance.

"You're a fucking liar! You knew they'd come and retaliate!"

"Come on Jack..." Blink pleaded and raised a brow as Jack took a step backwards. I turned my head to the tip of the Pier and saw why Jack had stepped back so cautiously. Five of them. Five designer boys coming down the Pier towards us.

All of them wore Armani t-shirts, men's Seven jeans and pristine white sneakers that never seemed to get dirty or grow old. They all looked alike, all wearing the same in the moment trends, trying hard to look cool. Dark colored blazers over T-shirts and Lacoste polos. Dirty distressed jeans that were bought that way and not worn in. Diamond pinky rings flickered under the sunset mocking the gold chains around their necks. The group walked with a loping swagger, an image that screamed of a James Dean chill while cigarettes dangled from their lips. Each of them had hair spiked straight up as hard as sharpened pine needles. They all used Ice hair gel. Their faces were set in perfectly trained cool frowns with an intent tension filled stare. All of it was practiced and all rehearsed. Everything about them screamed "so cool," yet me and my crew deemed them all fake losers with too much money to do them any good.

I patted Casey's hip and uncurled my arms from their safe hold on her waist. She stepped aside quietly. I took off my jean jacket, throwing it to the floor before taking a final drag of the cigarette me and Casey had been sharing and flicking it into the sparkling white ripple of the river below. I saw my friends getting ready for the fight and watched as Casey stepped back into the darkness. Before I was ready they were upon us, standing in a straight line across from us. There was some short guy standing on the right end of the line, cracking his knuckles trying hard to look intimidating. I watched my stalker from earlier break into a mocking grin and then swipe his thumb across his bruised lip. His tongue flicked out of his mouth like a snake's and ran over the ripened plush skin wiping away the trickle of blood that emerged from the ugly brown scab. The right side of his face was a swollen yellow, blue and purple pallet. I smirked in satisfaction. I had fucked up a perfect face.

Spot Gordello stood at the center of the line, one side of his lip curling upwards in derision, his chin jutted upward arrogantly asking us to start the fight. I stared straight into Spot's eyes not daring to break the gaze. Everyone's eyes were glaring, boring sharp holes into their opponents, daring the other to look away. I crossed my arms over my chest and could feel the hairs on the back of my neck begin to rise almost like sails in the wind. My back muscles clenched up tightly and my arms pulsed as I waited for the first punch.

"I'm gonna kick your mothafuckin' ass you guido piece of shit!" Jack yelled from my right and I let myself reveal a lazy grin.

"You better shut your mouth you son of a bitch before I turn you over my knee and spank you like the little boy you are!" One of the boys a mere foot from us shouted maliciously at Jack.

"I'll beat your ass so hard your grandmotha's gonna be crying!" Jack countered and I shook my head slightly at the ridiculous banter.

"Come on ginny baby! Let me fix up that face for you!" The boy who spoke made mocking kissing noises, his lips puckered like a gold fish. I could see Spot starting to grin, his weight shifting from foot to foot. He smoothed a hand over his mouth and peered at me over his fingers, clear hazel eyes laughing at me.

"Look at these ginny bastards, just standing here waiting for us to come and take 'em out." I laughed outright at Spot's comment, my teeth grinding in the back of my mouth, a smooth scraping sound to calm the harsh ringing in my ears.

"I wanna see you take us in a fair fight. Your boys can't handle one of us Spot, how they gonna handle three?" I asked in a cocky voice and cracked my knuckles stepping forward.

The second I did so, Spot charged forward and the fight began. His boys went charging at Blink and Jack and I lost sight of them then. He came at me in a rage, his fist flying into my cheek with a burst of white pain shooting into my skull. I went back at him, my own body lurching deep into his plush belly, arms looped around his waist in a death lock, sending him crashing into a pile of wooden crates. They splintered and went flying over the edge of the dock, splashing into the water. Antony tumbled to the floor and I pounced on him, punching ferociously at his well fed belly and face. I wanted to break him in half, to pound him so hard he was unrecognizable. I punched his face, sending it slamming into the hardwood floor. I slammed fist after fist against his nose, blood flowing from his nostrils down over his mouth and chin. I heard the sickening crunching of bone as I punched until he finally got a hold of me. He grabbed the collar of my shirt and pushed me backwards. I went flying over his head in a wide arch, floating for a moment like a bird mid flight. Then my back pounded hard against the wood, knocking the breath from me in a gasp of shock. His weight was on me again, heavy and hard as I struggled beneath him to be freed. His fist collided with my chin. My teeth clicked together roughly and I heard a loud snap as a tooth cracked. I raised a knee to his crotch and forced it up hard, he grunted in startled pain as I hit his dick. Spot stumbled backward and I quickly got to my feet, spitting out the shattered tooth with a stream of blood. I gripped the collar of his shirt and thrust my foot into his chest with a teeth baring snarl, blood swirling around them making them glow pink. I thrust him backward. Desperate to keep his balance he clawed at my shirt, catching it between his fingers. It began to tear slowly but not quickly enough as we collapsed onto the wood and rolled across the splintered planks. We went sailing over the edge of the dock, disappearing into the darkness mid-flight.

"Race!" I barely heard Casey scream before I hit the water. My hearing was muffled by the sound of rushing water and my vision clouded over by the contaminated depths of the East River. The water pulled down at my clothes like damp hands wanting me to sink to the bottom of Brooklyn. I pushed to the top, kicking, arms moving in wide open arcs. I swam hard and broke the surface sputtering and coughing wildly. The dirty water tasted of raw sewage and waste. A vomit flavor swarming down my throat and between my teeth, curling underneath my tongue and against the roof of my mouth. I tried desperately to spit away the taste from my mouth but to no avail. Spot burst through the surface next to me with a loud gasp, choking on the disgusting water as well. As if at the same time we both realized the piercing quiet. My pounding heart suddenly began to fill the deafening silence. Our heads both turned to the stopped commotion of the world above.

"Blink!" I cried out and swam to the edge of the dock, prying myself from the gripping hold the water held on me, arm muscles shaking as I pushed myself over the edge as quickly as I could. I ran to the end of the dock where Blink lay strewn in an unnatural position on the wooden floor. Blood pooled around him like a sacred blanket bathing him in his own life line. I couldn't move. I stared into the glassy eyes of my childhood friend and shuddered at the cold they now possessed. All of us crowded around the body wordlessly and I saw Spot glance at me with compassion and for once understanding. I broke free from his glance and glared at the boy holding the knife with a shaking hand.

"You son of a bitch!" I screamed in pain, anger and loss. I rushed towards him, hands outstretched, ready to circle his throat in my maddening state. Casey came running out of the darkness yelling at me to stop, don't.

"Race, it's not worth it!" She pleaded as I grabbed the guy around the neck, shoving him up against a pile of crates. He stumbled backwards, his voice choking and squeaked as his fingernails clawed at my bloodied knuckles. I didn't even feel him tearing skin away. Spit was dribbling out of the corner of my mouth, eyes red with rage and the forced holding of tears. My mouth curled into an anger filled line of hate. And all I could see were the eyes of a killer looking back at me, though they were pleading for his own life.

"Stop, Race!" She cried out once again before throwing her arms around my neck, trying to pull me backwards. As if snapped out of a trance Jack ran towards us and grabbed me by the arm, pulling me back. I felt my fingers scrape into Blink's killers neck as my hands were ripped free. I watched him cover the bleeding claw marks with his hands, sink to the floor and then wobble to his feet. They pushed me back, holding me so tight I could barely breathe. My glare was blurred with hot tears as I watched Spot's boys run away from the docks, Blink's killer coughing and limping in the rear. Their sneakers squealing and thumping as they fled.

I squeezed my eyes shut tightly, and took a hold of Casey's arm, my knuckles burning and turning white as I did so. Blood ran down my fingertips like little rivers draining. I panted loudly, gasping for air, trying to fill my body with each thrust of my lungs. Casey let go of my neck with only one arm and I felt her hand sliding up over my forehead, moving through my hair as she pressed her cheek against mine. I could feel the tears tumbling down over her face.

Spot stayed behind, he held a stern respect for what had happened and I knew that he believed what happened was wrong. To fight was one thing, but to pull a weapon and actually kill was quite another. Spot believed that as well as the rest of us collected around my friend's lifeless body on the dock. It was a code among street kids. Fight but don't kill. The minute Blink's blood was shed Spot knew he had to clean up the spill just as much as I did.

The red and blue flashing lights blinded my eyes and the shrill ring of sirens echoed in my ears. All of us sat and waited as the NYPD came to the scene in their white and blue cars. Their lights lit up the whole pier with colored blinking. We sat on the floor, stunned into a statue-like state. Casey's arms were curled around my waist and her face buried against my neck. I stared blindly ahead, not able to speak nor look at my friends. Jack was at my right, a hand on his knee, the other holding a cigarette. It burned slowly, red sparks turning to ash which floated away on the breeze. It burned down to the filter, Jack never lifting it to his lips. Spot stood off to the side, hands in his pockets and eyes gazing intently at the floor. My eyes couldn't focus on anything but the black body bag's silver zipper, the teeth reminiscent of knife points, being pulled up over my friend's head.

"I ain't used to things being so quiet." Casey said to me, her head resting lightly against my shoulder, legs strewn across mine. I could tell that her eyes were partly closed.

"Me either." I said in her ear, my voice husky and cracking from the deep chest cold and sore throat I had developed from my stint in the water. I kissed her cheek softly, it was still damp with the remnants of tears. We thought it only right to honor Blink by a night on the roof. Still dressed in our black funeral clothes we had solemnly climbed the eight flights of stairs, broke open the door and took our places, Blink's empty. None of us could help but stare at the empty space. I coughed suddenly and wiped my nose on my sleeve.

"Blink would be getting loud right about now, saying something about beating somebody up," Jack said with a tight lipped grin, cocked his head to the side, and raised a brow. "He was always good about having lots to say but not much to do about it."

"You could say that again." I agreed with a nod.

"Did you see that Spot was there? " Jack asked me, nibbling on his bottom lip idly.

"Yeah, he pulled me aside and told me he was sorry. He was, ya know? That was the only time I'd ever seen him be really sorry about anything," I replied, clearing my throat trying to rid it of its scratchiness. "It was outta respect, I knew he'd show up. He's got a conscience unlike the rest of 'em." Jack nodded.

"Can we stop talking about it?" Casey asked quietly. "It was enough being there but do we have to keep talking about it?"

"What happens if we don't talk about it? It's still there ain't it? So what's the point of trying to forget it? Blink wouldn't want us to forget it anyways. He'd be talking about it till we told him to shut the fuck up." Jack said to Casey.

"He's right. Blink would be bragging about that fight and you know it." I said.

"Yeah. He'd be saying how he kicked everybody's asses and then helped you'se out when you couldn't handle it nomore." Casey spoke, mimicking Blink perfectly and we couldn't help but chuckle.

"Which everyone on the block would know was bullshit and just laugh at him." I continued and all of us grinned.

I heard thunder rumbling down across the sky, a thousand collapsed bowling pins crashing to the floor. A flash of lightning cracked against the clouds, breaking them apart instantly. A wide gap shimmering towards the heavens, waiting for the downpour to begin. Then with only a moment's peace the sky broke free and sent the rain tumbling down to the shadow laden rooftops in a sheet of crystals. Casey jumped up from my lap and ran for the door with Jack.

"Race, come on!" They called, the door shutting automatically.

Instead of following them, I stood up slowly and shut my eyes, my arms falling open at my sides. I let the rain ripple down my body. It trickled down over my clothes in tiny glistening rivers, wetting me straight through the cotton. The material sticking to my skin. My pants started to grow heavy, pulling down at my waist, but I didn't care. I stood in the rain, letting it soak me through, as though I hoped it would cleanse my soul, but instead it drenched me with bitterness. It felt like silk on my skin. As I titled my head back it tickled my lips, pooled into my eyes and rushed down my face angrily. The tears I could not cry. My eyes fluttered open, burning, blurring drops falling into my irises and dripping down from the corners. I glanced at the crying sky, saturated hair hanging shaggy like a mangy dogs, and silently yet sincerely said goodbye to Blink.