Born Bad (35 page)

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Authors: Andrew Vachss

BOOK: Born Bad
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RIX: It's still pretty dangerous…

MANNY: Pussy!

RIX: I got as much heart as you, spic!

MANNY: I guess so—you willin' to die for your mouth.
(Reaching in his jacket pocket).

TONY: Manny, no! Come on, brother. We all need each other right now. Rix didn't mean nothin'. We don't stick together, we get stuck. Now, vote, motherfuckers!

MANNY: I'm in.

RIX: Yeah, me too. I was only…

BILLY: If you say so, I do it, Tony.

POET: All right.

PRINCE: I go with the President.

TONY:
(Looking around)
Okay that's it. Now we go to school tomorrow. All of us. And we spread the word, cool.
Cool,
Rix! But we let the Dragons know that the Counts be ready to make their big move real soon.

 

Three nights later. The boys have been in the alley since seven P.M. Waiting.

 

POET: What if he don't show?

TONY: He'll show. The stinkin' headbreaker never miss his chance to be a motherfucking preacher.

RIX: I'm ready. The whole street knows he's gonna die. I hope nobody tip him off.

TONY: You crazy? 'Round here, even the niggers want a cop to die.

PATROLMAN ANDERSON
approaches the alley, swinging his nightstick. He is tall and confident with a hearty manner too old for his years.

ANDERSON: How's things, men?

TONY: How they suppose to be? You want to do us a favor, give us some police cannons so's we can protect ourselves from the Black Barons.

ANDERSON:
(Snide)
There hasn't been any trouble between the
big
clubs for a long time now.

TONY: Yeah, we know we ain't no big club, man. And we got nothin' goin' for us when the niggers make they move.

ANDERSON: Maybe you boys want to join up with the Golden Dragons? They got a full–time Youth Board worker now and a clubhouse. They don't even bop so much anymore. They got a basketball team, they put on dances and everything.

(POET'S
eyes flash hope. It dies when
RIX
speaks.)

RIX: Oh yeah, man. Where do we get an application?

ANDERSON:
(Seriously)
I can speak with Lacey. He's even getting a salary now from the anti–poverty people and I think he'd let you all join…except maybe Manny.

RIX: What's wrong with Manny? He's got heart, man.

ANDERSON: All he's got is a switchblade. Take that away from him and he's a punk without an ounce of guts to his name.

TONY: Yeah, well, listen, Anderson. We got other troubles, man. The boys copped something and we don't know what to do with it. I mean, we can't just peddle this stuff, you know what I mean?

ANDERSON:
(Interested)
Where is it?

TONY: We got it stashed behind a crate in the back, man. Come on, I'll show you.

PERSON:
(Confidently)
I'm sure we can work this out.

 

(They walk toward the back:
TONY
leading the way,
ANDERSON
following,
RIX
close behind.
POET
stays at the alley's mouth.
TONY
whirls to face
ANDERSON.)

 

TONY: Okay, cop. Here's somethin' I wanted to tell you, but I didn't want to shout it out up front.

ANDERSON:
(Impatiently)
Well, what is it?

 

(The radio is turned up full blast.
MANNY
steps from behind the crates and rams his blade into
ANDERSON's
back as
BILLY
brings his lead pipe down on the cop's skull
ANDERSON
goes down without a sound.
PRINCE
drops to his knees, holding his own lead pipe in two hands, dubbing
ANDERSON across
the chest.
RIX'
s hands are shaking

shoves the zip gun into
ANDERSON'
s mouth and jerks the trigger. There is a soft
pop!
and
ANDERSON'
s head jerks in a final spasm.
BILLY
and
ex
grab the cop's legs and drag him deeper into the alley as
MAMMY
tips over the largest crate. They shove him underneath.
RIX
is still holding the bloody zip gun.
Tom
grabs it from his hands and throws it through the opened basement window. The radio blasts. The killing–sounds remain trapped in the alley.
TONY
runs to the front, calling to
POET.)

 

TONY: We gonna split, man. It's done. Go back and pick up the zip, like we said. Later!

 

(POET
is already moving toward the back of the alley, bringing his radio.
MANNY
has faded into the basement shakeout.
PRINCE, BILLY, RIX,
and
TONY
walk together to the corner, where they go their separate ways.)

 
 

The next morning.

 
 

All the boys except
MANNY
and
BILLY
are still pumped up on last night's blood.

 

TONY: We don't want to walk into school together, but we get together inside, right? Rix, stash that weed, man…I can smell it from here. You don't need to be nervous man, it went perfect.

RIX: I ain't nervous, man. Just a little smoke to celebrate.

TONY: Billy, you stay by me today. See the rest of you men in the shop later.

 

Shop Class. The word has spread and
TONY
is waiting for the approach.

 
 

(LACEY,
the leader of the Golden Dragons, slides in next to him.)

 

LACEY: Hey, brother, is it true what I been hearing?

TONY: Yeah, man. The Counts took too much shit from that roller. And you can't take shit when you small or the other clubs…you know, the nigger clubs…man, they go down on us and we get blown out.

LACEY: Mebbe you thinkin' about joining us?

TONY: Well, we did, man, But we heard you all was going a bit sporty, like no more boppin' when the Youth Board faggot says and all like that…

LACEY:
(Quietly)
Watch your mouth, man.

TONY: Brother, I'm glad to hear you talk like that. Sure, we all knew it was a bullshit rep they was layin' on you. Man, we proud to join a true fighting club. We get together, straighten the niggers right out, right?

LACEY:
(Mollified)
Yeah, baby. Where's your boys now?

TONY: Manny is out of school, man. Billy and Poet are over near the printing press, and Prince is on my right hand here.

LACEY: Give me skin, Poet, you all right!

POET: My pleasure, President.

LACEY: Hey! You swift, baby. Looks like you got prime boys, Tony.

TONY: The best. Rix just rolled in. He's by the tool chest. Hey! Isn't that Priest of the Black Barons?

LACEY: Yeah. The fuckin' nigger thinks he's bad shit. Only reason we don't jump him before this is 'cause we don't waste our time with nothing less than an all–out. Anyway, boppin' in school is no fuckin' good—we lose that anti–poverty green behind shit like that…

 

(PRIEST
is
cleaning a linoleum–block print with a white rag, singing softly to himself.
RIX
walks past and brushes against him.
PRIEST
looks up, catches
RIX 's
eye, says nothing.
RIX w
heels around, loud.)

 

RIX: Motherfucker, watch where you put your feet!

PRIEST: You talkin' to me, paddy?

RIX: You heard me, nigger!

PRIEST:
(Not raising his voice,flat–toned)
Outside. After school. You and me.

RIX:
(Contemptuous)
I'll be there, punk.

PRIEST's
boys move in fast and
RIX
is quickly surrounded. He backs against the printing press, watching hands reach into pockets. The scene freezes.

LACEY: Dragons!

 

Other boys drop their work and move toward the printing press, reaching for the kind of instant weapons you find in shop class. About thirty boys are milling around, waiting for the match to hit the gasoline, when the
SHOP TEACHER
jumps in the middle.

 

TEACHER: Get back where you came from you punk bastards! I'm warning you, one fucking move and I call the cops. This is the last damn time I'm telling you…move!

 

The groups part. Hands return to pockets.
PRIEST
walks up to
LACEY.

 

PRIEST: That paddy–punk one of your boys, huh? Want to make it an all–out tonight?

LACEY: Whatsamatter, boy? Afraid to go up against the man who burned the heat?

PRIEST: Be outside after school. We see who burns who. And maybe I see you afterward.

LACEY: I'll be there.

 

The schoolyard looks like the recreation yard in any maximum–security prison: high fence, blacktop, slit–window buildings. About seventy boys are on each side of the yard, waiting for the gladiators.

 

LACEY: How you want it, fair one?

PRIEST: Okay by me. I don't need a blade for that punk.

 

MANNY
and
RIX
are off to one side, whispering.

 

MANNY: Take this, man.
(He shows a steel can–opener, fattened at one end and sharpened so that it glints m the faint light).
I tape this to your wrist—you slice him when you get in close.

RIX: Man, I don't need that. I kill the nigger with my bare hands. Kill him like I killed that fuckin' cop.

MAMMY: Rix, that is Priest of the Black Barons! He is a stone vicious killer, brother. I know for a fact he's killed four men. You take this, man, or you're dead.

RIX: Yeah, Yeah, okay…just for insurance.

TONY: Happy nigger–hunting, man!

LACEY: You take Priest and you next Warlord of the Golden Dragons!

POET: Go, man. Kill the motherfucker!

 

(They circle shyly,
PRIEST
the confident veteran of a hundred such battles. The Dragons scream encouragement at
RIX—
the Barons beat a heavy silent tattoo with their minds, disciplined.
PRIEST
feints with a left hook and catches
RIX
with a kick to the groin.
RIX
hits the ground and
PRIEST
dropkicks him in the face.
RIX
rolls away and comes up throwing a handful of pebbles and dirt.
PRIEST
fakes backing off then suddenly moves in, drops his shoulder and drives a straight right hand to
RIX's
head.

 
 

RIX
throws up his hands to protect his face and
PRIEST
is all over him with heavy, driving punches.
RIX
gives ground, not returning the fire. His nose is squashed flat on his face and his eyes are glazed.

 
 

PRIEST
slams a fist into
RIX's
stomach, watches him double over, and steps back like an artist admiring his work.
RIX
feels the slippery steel at his wrist and lets it fall into his cupped hand. He pulls back his right foot, drops to one knee.)

 

PRIEST: You down on your knees for me, paddy–boy? You wanna suck some good black cock?

RIX: (A
dead man's voice)
Come on, nigger. Just come on.

 

(PRIEST
charges and the steel spike whips like a jet from around
RIX's
knees…catches
PRIEST
full in the face and slices his cheek off like raw meat. A slab of flesh flies away and lands at the feet of the assembled Dragons.
PRIEST is
down on the ground rolling with his face in, the dirt, screaming. Blood and white muscle tissue foam up between his clenched hands. The Barons all reach for their weapons. RIX stares fixated at
PRIEST on
Old ground before him. He slowly climbs to his feet.
PRIEST
struggles to his knees to face him. He pulls his hands from his face with an effort of will. One eye lies on the blacktop next to him. His voice comes from the grave.)

 

PRIEST: You dead.

 

(Police sirens split the air and the gangs turn to run.
MANNY
bends and picks up
PRIEST's
eyeball He walks over to
RIX)

 

MANNY: This is yours, man. You earned it. I told you you needed the blade, right, baby?

RTX:
(Dazed, pocketing the eyeball)
Yeah, Manny. Thanks. You all right, brother.

LACEY: Tony, come to our clubhouse tonight…and bring your boys. And Rix, man, you got heart to spare. You my man. Later!

 

That night. The clubhouse of the Golden Dragons, a seven–room apartment on the sixth (top) floor.

 
 

(TONY
and
BILLY
are the first to arrive from the Counts.
LACEY
motions him over to a quiet corner.)

 

LACEY: Listen, Tony, you want to be with us permanent, right?

TONY: Yeah, man. We proved that, I think.

LACEY: You surely did, brother. You a natural leader. But I got to talk somethin' over with you. The Black Barons sent The Messenger over to see us. Earlier. Before you got here. They not fuckin' around this tinge. They got the Egyptian Kings and the Harlem Raiders, plus a brother club, the Devil's Disciples. They got more than four hundred and fifty men, Tony, and they fixing to burn us all for what Rix did to Priest.

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