Leaving: A Novel (46 page)

The street felt exciting and alive, if not exactly safe. There were many older kids out as the evening came on. One group of boys threw a football across the street, another played dice and yelled at girls as they walked past, and others sat on the stoops of buildings listening to music. They wore gold earrings and bracelets, laughed and pushed each other around. They tapped each other’s fists and took part in secret business through the windows of doubled-parked cars. He loved the way adults coming back from work walked with their arms close to their sides, weaving through the teenagers as through a minefield, afraid of accidentally setting one off with the wrong look.

It was not that frightening to him. Most of the kids seemed to ignore him, or if they tripped over him, they’d just push him away or say something like “Watch yourself,” and then be off.

He knew the two blocks to the liquor store well, and only one spot posed any danger. At the first corner was a doorway to an inside staircase that was hidden from the street. It was impossible to see who might be in there, but almost always there were bottles thrown out of it at random and the sound of men laughing. Once he saw a woman stop in front of the doorway and look inside after someone had shouted to her. A man’s hand reached out and grabbed her arm, and as she struggled, another pair of arms reached out and pulled her in, ripping the purse off her shoulder, seemingly sucking her into the darkness and laughter.

To avoid this corner, Love crossed to the other side where two boys his age sat on steps and laced up shiny black Rollerblades. Love stood on the curb and watched them, his mouth open, unaware of himself. The two boys finished lacing their skates and stood up, grabbing onto the posts for balance, then wobbling forward. One was overweight, and it seemed the boots might crack and burst under him, the wheels bending at an angle. The other boy had no hair, his head smooth as a brown egg.

“What up?” this boy said to Love with a slight yell, the way all the older kids on the block greeted each other.

“What up,” Love said back. The two boys skated and stumbled to the next staircase and grabbed on, the larger one following the eggheaded one and running into him. Love watched but did not laugh, for even the attempt at skating seemed a triumph to him.

“I’m Durrell,” said the bald one to Love. “He’s my twin brother, Turrell. He don’t look like my twin ’cause he’s fat.” Turrell looked at him and smiled. “He don’t like to talk neither,” Durrell continued. “He could talk. He talks to me, but he don’t talk to no one else. He don’t even talk to our mama.” Durrell started off across to the other staircase again.

“How’d you get your head so smooth?” Love asked.

“That’s its natural way. I can’t grow no hair. My mama says it’s ’cause I got the same blood as my great-grandad. His head was bald too. Somehow the blood got carried on through my granddad and my mama and then on to me. But my mama ain’t bald. Anyway, what you doin?”

“Goin to the store.”

“Where your shoes?”

“At home.”

“You got money?”

Love knew he shouldn’t say but felt that it was so obvious he couldn’t lie, so he nodded.

“How much money you got?”

“Ten dollars,” Love heard himself brag.

“Your mama give you ten dollars?”

“My papa, for peanut butter.”

“What you gonna buy, a whole cow?”

“Grapefruit too.”

“That ain’t gonna cost no ten dollars.”

“I know.”

“You want to buy Turrell’s blades?”

Turrell heard this and shook his head.

“You gonna sell ’em for ten dollars?” Love asked.

“Naw. You got to pay twenty dollars for blades like these. But I got a way you could get ten more dollars that’s real easy. You just got to come with me.”

“I got to go to the store.”

“Well, when you come back from the store, we might not be here, and the man giving away all the money might be gone too. And it only takes a little bit of time now.”

Love shrugged his shoulders. “That’s all right.”

“All right.” Durrell pulled Turrell to standing, and they both went across to the other staircase and back again.

“Where’s the man at?” Love asked.

“You got to have ten dollars to start with. Show me you got ten dollars.”

Love shook his head.

“All I want to do is see you got it. You can stand over there and just hold it up.”

Love walked to the opposite staircase and held out the ten-dollar bill.

“Okay, I see it,” Durrell said. “Now come on with me. You don’t have to do it if you don’t want. Just come on and see how I mean for you to get it.”

Love walked behind the twins as they skated across the street and turned the corner on to a block that Love had never been on before. This was even more crowded than his own, with people filling the streets and yelling at each other like at a party, and no cars driving through.

In the middle of the block, a group of older kids stood in front of a staircase that went down to a cellar, their backs to the street like a wall. He heard someone yelling behind the older kids.

“The middle one, man, it’s the middle one. Aw man, you got to watch more closely.” And the whole group groaned in disappointment.

“I always wanted to do this, but I never had any money,” Durrell said. “But I always know the one to pick. Watch this.”

He pushed his way between two boys and made room for Love to peek in. A young man crouched on the ground facing the crowd. He moved three walnut shells around very swiftly in front of him.

“Play your money, friends. Keep your eyes on the prize.” He quickly lifted the middle shell and revealed a green pea, then went back to shuffling. He showed the pea in the middle every time he called out. “If you’ve seen it by chance, keep your money in your pants. If you’ve seen it twice, got to roll the dice. If you’ve seen again, you’re sho to win.” He stopped shuffling, and Love was sure he knew the pea was in the middle. In fact, the man had gone real slowly the last time, and it seemed like you’d have to be stupid not to know.

“Who wants to play? Pick the shell with the pea and double your green.” There were no takers at first, and Love couldn’t understand why no one bet, but they’d been watching longer, so maybe they knew better.

“It’s in the middle one,” Durrell yelled.

“Show me your money, half-pint,” the man said.

“I ain’t got none. My friend’s got the money.”

“Well, have him lay it down.”

Before Durrell could beg Love, a very tall man with dark sunglasses spoke up. “I think the boy’s right,” he said. “Here’s my money.” He took out three bills and carefully counted them, tossing them separately onto the ground. “Twenty … forty … sixty dollars. Now show me that pea.”

The man lifted his hand and there, in the shadow of the shell, was the dried-up pea. Everyone, including Love, jumped in the air and screamed with pleasure

“I told you! I told you,” Durrell yelled. “How come you didn’t bet? You’ve got to give him the money.”

The man with the shells shook his head and took out a thick roll of bills. He counted the money just as the tall man had, slowly, throwing the bills on the ground so everyone could see. The tall man bent down and grabbed all the bills, then held them up to the rest of the people, and they clapped. The man on the ground began to shuffle the shells again. “It’s that easy, friends. Maybe I’m not as fast as I used to be. Or maybe that boy there’s got an eye for gold. If he were a pirate he’d be Long John Silver, if he were a bomber he’d have hit Qaddafi smack on the head. Now take a good look, ’cause I’m gonna show you the pea.” He lifted up the shell in the middle and the pea was there. Then he shuffled again. “Do you know where it is? Are you following it?”

“It’s in the middle,” Love yelled out.

The man lifted the shell and there it was. “The boy’s right.”

“Ten dollars. Give me ten dollars.”

“You’ve got to put the money down first, half-pint.”

Love pulled the money out of his pocket and held it in his fist as the man shuffled again. The man’s hands moved slowly, and Love followed the shells the whole time. This was the easiest way to make money ever. He would bring back the money to show Marcus. He could buy the food and buy the skates and his mama wouldn’t have to beg Marcus for money anymore. He could buy his brother something too, maybe a toy or a bottle. The man’s hands stopped.

Love threw his money in the circle.

“It’s in the middle. I call it. It’s in the middle.”

“The boy says it’s in the middle. Does anyone else want a piece of the action?” The rest of the kids grumbled and moved around, but no one put any money down. They looked at the tall man, but he shook his head.

“I didn’t see it this time,” he said. “I think I saw it under the middle, but I lost my concentration.”

Seeing that there were no other takers, the man on the ground turned the shell over with a slap. The pea was there.

“I won! I won! I won!” Love danced and hugged Durrell. “Give me my money. I put in ten dollars. Give me ten dollars.”

The man shook his head and took out his roll of bills. “This is not my day. I guess I’m gonna have to go home and practice some more.” He put the money on the ground, and Love picked up the two ten-dollar bills.

“See, I told you. I told you,” Durrell said. “Give me some money so I can play.”

“Naw. I won this money for me.”

“But I showed you. You got to give me some too.”

Love shrugged. He could always win again, and anyway, this was the first real friend he’d ever had.

“What you gonna do? You gonna bet?” Love asked as he handed Durrell one of the bills.

“Yeh, I’m gonna make me a million dollars.”

The man on the ground shuffled his shells again and called to the crowd. “All the little boys out here making money today, but the grownups is too scared to trust they own eyes. See, here’s the pea. Now watch if you can as I shuffle around real fast.” But he didn’t shuffle real fast, and then he asked again:

“Who’s gonna take some candy from a baby today? Who knows where that little green pea is at? Who’s gonna double what they made all week, all month, all year, in just one tiny second?”

“I got to put it down this time,” said the tall man. “I’ve seen it for sure under the middle.” The man put down all his money, one hundred and twenty dollars. “I just wish I had me some more.” Then it was like a dam burst, and everyone else in the crowd threw their money on the ground. “I got ten on the middle.” “I put down one hundred.” It was hard to tell whose money was where. Both Love and Durrell joined in and threw their money down with smiles stretched across their faces and grabbed each other’s hands.

The man on the ground slapped the shell over. It was hard to see at first, or maybe just hard to believe, but they had to blink twice before they saw clearly. There was nothing but pavement underneath.

“No way, I saw it!” yelled out a large boy with a gold watch.

There was a second of silent shock, but before anyone else could think to speak, the tall man yelled out: “Five-oh! Here come the cops.” Love and Durrell turned to look around, as did everyone else. They looked both ways but didn’t see a car or even any bicycle cops. When they looked back, the money, the man on the ground, and the tall man were gone.

“Aw shit!” one guy yelled. “That son of a bitch got all my money.”

“You mean he won it all,” said his friend, laughing.

“I got to buy peanut butter and a grapefruit,” Love said. His eyes began to fill with tears. He was afraid to think what Marcus and his mother might do to him if he showed up with no money and no food.

“Ten dollars ain’t so much to go cryin over,” Durrell said. “I know how we can get ten dollars easy.”

Love shook his head.

“It’s easier than this. You just have to follow my plan and we can get money from a cash register. My older brother, Murrell, does it all the time. And you don’t need no money to do this.”

Love walked away from the stairs through the crowd of people, with Durrell and Turrell skating behind him. The pea had to be under the middle shell. He’d seen it. It had to be there. The man had tricked him. The tall man and the man with the shells and Durrell too. They’d all tricked him out of his money.

“Give me your skates,” Love demanded. Durrell stopped, and Turrell ran into him.

“Why you want my skates?”

“Give me my money back.”

“I don’t have any money.”

“Give me your skates then,” Love said again.

“Naw. I ain’t gonna give you my skates.”

Love rushed him and grabbed him by the shirt and shook him from side to side.

“Give ’um!”

Durrell fell backward, pulling Love on top of him. Love punched Durrell as hard as he could in the face and in the stomach, just like he’d seen older kids do on the street. He put his head down and punched as Durrell swung back wildly. A crowd gathered around and the teenagers started yelling.

“Get him. That’s Snapple’s little brother.”

“Look at that boy punch,” another one yelled. “That boy’s tearin him up. He’s a pit bull.”

“That little boy’s from my building. His mama’s a ho.”

“He’s got a whole lot of dog in him. Look at this boy. This boy’s gonna mess him up.”

Love felt encouraged by the shouts and hit Durrell even harder. Turrell took off his skates as fast as he could. He held one in the air and went over to where Love straddled his brother and hit him over the head with the rubber heel-stop.

“Oh, that got to hurt!” one boy yelled, and the crowd laughed as Love fell off Durrell. The laughter of the crowd angered Love more than the hit on the head, and he got up after Turrell now.

“He gone take on both a them. I got my money on that pit bull.”

As if a bolt of lightning rushed through him, Love began pounding Turrell.

“Give me my money. Give me my money,” he screamed. He struck out as if he were in a sticky spiderweb that he had to swing and swing through until he was free. Durrell pulled him off his brother, and without interrupting his swings, Love switched targets. He didn’t think about the skates anymore or about his money or about Durrell. He had no thoughts but to hit as hard and as fast as he could until there was no more to hit or until he was no longer able to hit.