nottingham.
nigger rick didn't heft the brick when he picked it up, he just threw it like a fucking major league baseball player right into Gump's face. Busted his nose wide the fuck open, split straight up along the cartilage like a cunt. when they saw the blood Put-em-up and Dukes bolted for the backwoods behind the Omni and the rest of the kids hoofed it down Harlem. The only people left were Nigger Dave, Rick's brother, and me, sitting on a swing with a face like a sheet. the violence did that to me every time. i felt like fainting. blood pressure dropped right straight to hell and i din't have an ounce of blood left above my toenails. i learned to recover quickly, and soon after that, i forced myself to love the fighting. i leared to love the brutality. and even later than that, i learned that this wasn't the norm. that this wasn't how all kids gre up, fighting and drinking and getting stoned in the abandoned house where Philly used to bring little boys before he got sent to Stateville. Nigger Rick came over to the swings and i flinched. he laughed at me and shook his head, asked if i wanted to come over and watch a movie. i said sure. we watched robocop and i ate tacos with his family. i didn't know puerto ricans ate tacos. then again, i was white and i ate tacos. what the fuck did i know then, right?