CHAPTER 20 #3
Marcus had basketball practice, and Mia was with her new boyfriend, so it was just me that afternoon.
I spotted Sinceer first. That wasn’t unusual.
He stood near the fence outside the schoolyard, backpack twice his size.
A thick book tucked under one arm. It belonged there permanently.
Saiyd was nowhere in sight. That worried me immediately.
If he wasn’t where he was supposed to be, it usually meant trouble.
I heard shouting. I turned toward the basketball courts where a circle of kids had formed.
In the middle of that circle, Saiyd was swinging.
Fists moving fast, his small body twisting with every punch.
I guess he had watched the corner boys long enough to learn the rhythm of it.
The boy he was fighting was bigger. Maybe two years older. At least a hundred pounds heavier.
“Say it again punk. I dare!” Saiyd shouted.
The other boy shoved him hard.
“Man, you heard me!”
Saiyd swung again, this time his fist connected clean with the boy’s cheek. I’m pretty sure I saw a tooth fly. The crowd exploded with noise. Kids love a fight. Especially when nobody in charge is around. I pushed through the circle.
“Saiyd!”
He didn’t hear me. Or maybe he did and didn’t care.
The bigger boy lunged forward and tackled him to the ground. The two of them rolled across the concrete, knees scraping. Saiyd landed on top and was smashing the boys head into the ground. I heard Sinceer’s voice. Small. Panicked.
“Stoppp!”
He stood near the edge of the crowd, gripping his book so tightly his knuckles turned white. Nobody listened to Sinceer. Nobody ever did. I jumped into the middle of the fight.
“Okay! That’s enough!”
I grabbed Saiyd by the collar and pulled him backward.
He struggled against me.
“Let me go!”
“Are you crazy?!” I snapped.
Teachers was running across the yard now. Too late, as usual. The bigger boy wiped blood from his nose and mouth, glaring at Saiyd.
“You dead tomorrow,” he muttered.
Saiyd smirked.
“Yeah aight bitch, try me.”
One of the teachers stepped between them.
“Let’s go boys!”
Kids scattered quickly. Nobody wanted detention. Or worse. The teacher pointed at both boys.
“Office. Now.”
In the principal’s office, Saiyd sat in the chair beside me, bouncing his leg nonstop. His knuckles scraped and bleeding. Not a scratch on his face though. He didn’t look hurt. He looked proud.
Sinceer sat on the other side of me, still holding that book.
“What was that about?” I asked quietly.
Saiyd shrugged.
“Man, he started it.”
“Why?”
Saiyd didn’t answer. Sinceer spoke instead.
“The boy has been picking on me. Taking my books and calling me names.”
Saiyd’s jaw tightened.
“He said Sin act like a lil’ girl.”
I observed Sinceer. His eyes stayed on the floor.
“He said reading books makes me soft,” Sinceer added quietly.
Saiyd leaned forward in his chair.
“So I hit him.”
Like it was the most obvious thing in the world.
The principal called Mama. That was the worse than the fight. When she arrived, the sun had already started dropping. She stormed into the office wearing her scrubs, eyes blazing.
“What happened?”
The principal explained. Fighting. Disruption. Mama turned slowly toward Saiyd.
“You fightin’ now?”
Saiyd stared straight ahead.
“He disrespected my brotha.”
Mama’s anger paused. She sighed deeply.
“Dat don’t mean you throw fists.”
Saiyd didn’t respond. I could see the stubbornness burning behind his eyes.
When we got home, Mama sent the twins to their room.
“You’re grounded,” she told Saiyd.
“No TV. No basketball. For a week.”
He didn’t argue. Just nodded and went upstairs. Sinceer followed quietly.
Later that night, I went into our room. The bunk bed creaked softly when I sat on the bottom mattress. Sinc was reading and Saiyd lay on the bottom bunk, the fire still radiating off him.
“You okay?” I asked.
Sinceer nodded. Saiyd answered first.
“Forget dat foo’. I do it again.”
I sighed.
“I know you would.”
He leaned out of the bunk.
“He shouldn’ talk ‘bout Sin like dat. He don’t bother nobody.”
“But people will,” I said gently.
“Not if I’m dere.” The certainty in his voice made my chest tighten.
“Fightin’ won’t fix everythang,” I told him.
He shrugged.
“Sometimes it do. It did today.”
Sinceer closed his book slowly.
“You didn’t have to fight him.”
Saiyd looked up at him.
“Uh…Yeah I did.”
Sinceer adjusted his glasses.
“No, I could’ve handled it.”
Saiyd laughed.
“Man, how was you gon’ handle it?”
“With words.”
Saiyd shook his head hard.
“Dis ain’t dat kind of place. Dis ain’t no book, dis real life Sin.”
Sinceer didn’t respond. The silence between them was heavy.
Lying in my bed, I thought about what I had seen.
The way Saiyd’s fists moved. The way Sinceer froze.
Two boys. Same house. Same parents. Same block.
But Sinceer used his mind. Saiyd used his hands.
And on our block, only one of those skills earned respect.
The streets have rules and kids learned those rules early.
Sometimes too early. And once they did, the block never gave them space to breathe.
ROUND TWO
Marcus had been to my block once before at night.
That first time, the corner had tested him the way it tested everybody who didn’t belong there.
A few hard looks, a couple dumb questions, tension that lets you know the street is measuring you.
Just enough for Marcus to understand the rules.
The second time he came, the block didn’t bother pretending.
It was a Saturday afternoon when he showed up again, late fall now.
The air had cooled enough that people wore hoodies and jackets.
The block was alive the way it always. Music thumping from a car parked halfway down the street.
Kids riding bikes in loose circles. Old heads in folding chairs arguing about the Eagles, like their opinions mattered to somebody.