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angel!”
She smiled some more. “She is my amiga.”
    “Your friend. And Slide?” I said.
    “
Sí.
She takes care of him.” She smiled and shook her head slowly. “He is like a little brother to her.”
    “Do they live near you?” I said.
    “Sí, sí.”
She put her hands together.
    “Carmen lives with you, not at the big house?” I said.
    “Sí, sí.”
She smiled some more.
“Por uno o dos días.
    “Ah!
A la izquierda!
” she added.
    “Left,” Hawk said.
    Halfway down the block in a storefront was a medical building. A line of people, looking miserable in the cold, waited to get inside. Above them, the Christmas decorations, big red bells and candy canes and sleighs with Santa in them, were hung along the lines between the telephone poles. Hawk got out with Martita. She was headed to go to the end of the line, but Hawk took her under the arm and marched her into the building. I thought I would let him take care of this situation. He could be very convincing when he wanted to be. I watched the line of people—men, women, and children, all sick with something—patiently waiting to get medical attention, at a place that looked nothing like Mass General.
    Hawk returned, quicker than I would have thought.
    “I told them I was President Obama’s cousin,” he said.
    “See how well the health-care system works,” I said, “when you give it a chance.”

I HAD PROMISED JACKIE I’d drop by Street Business to give his charges a boxing lesson. We agreed on a time that fit my hectic holiday schedule, and I had imposed upon Henry Cimoli to scrounge up some used equipment for me to bring. Because Hawk was curious about Street Business, I invited him along. I also invited him because I couldn’t carry all the equipment by myself.
    On the way to the house on Curtis Street, Hawk said, “You going to a lot of trouble for this Jackie fellow. Christmas spirit?”
    “Maybe. I remember my father and uncles teaching me how to box when I was about ten. Learned a lot. Not just how to move my feet.”
    Hawk was silent. After a moment or two he said, “You know Jackie’s kids, they different from you. Come from a different place.”
    I glanced at Hawk. He was looking at the road ahead, expressionless. “Worth a try,” I said.
    Jackie had cleared the exercise room and put down some canvas on the floor, flat and neat and secure. When Hawk and I arrived, he and four of the boys were waiting for me. They all wore sweats and high-top sneakers.
    I introduced Hawk and Jackie. Jackie offered us both coffee, which we declined.
    “How goes Street Business?” I said. “Everything quiet?”
    “Since I came to see you,” Jackie said.
    “The Christmas lull.”
    Jackie turned to the boys. “This is Mr. Spenser,” he said, “and his friend Hawk. They’ve offered to show you boys some basics of boxing. Please introduce yourselves and welcome our new friend.”
    The tallest boy, but not necessarily the oldest, stepped forward. “I’m Teddy,” he said. He had red hair, freckles, and pale blue eyes, and was thin as paint. We shook hands.
    Next was Mike. A pudgy kid with a wide grin. “We heard about you, Mr. Spenser. Jackie says you’re a tough guy,” he said.
    “Ram tough,” I said, “but I use my power only for good.”
    There was Pedro, one of Juan’s immigrant kids, who had a baby face and looked about ten, and Carl, who was the oldest and had started to shave. He sported a small scraggly beard and lank blond hair.
    Carl’s expression conveyed either disdain or a severe stomach cramp. “I know how to box already,” he said.
    “Good,” Jackie said. “Then you don’t have to stay. No need to waste our guests’ time.” His rebuke was friendly but firm. Carl stayed.
    Hawk and I unloaded the used mitts, gloves, and headgear from Henry, as well as the mouth guards from a local sporting goods store. Jackie passed out the equipment while I surveyed the room. There were two bags attached to opposite walls, one a