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sudden embarrassment wrenched in my heart and hurled me to my feet. I rushed Leroy and dug my fist into his belly, deep, so he cried out. Then, he crumbled to the ground and wept in heavy, tired sobs. T-Money rushed into the middle of the ring waving his hands over his head.
    â€œThat’s round one. End-a the round,” he said, then he grabbed my elbow and led me back to the corner. Twon picked up Leroy.
    â€œThat’s good, Joe!” T-Money urged. “You got him! You gon’ whoop dat marg!”
    Ryan stepped up on my side. His bright eyes glowed. There was a hopeful smile on his thin lips. “You all right, Joe?” he asked. “You all right?”
    I got a lump in my throat and nodded.
    â€œDamn, Leroy, I thought you was a sucka... You ain’t a sucka at all...” BB squeaked. “But you betta not let that white boy whoop you.”
    When T-Money called out for round two, a few hot tears streamed down my face. I didn’t want to stop, and I didn’t know why I was crying. The tears infuriated me. I wanted to fight, and I wanted to win. Leroy’s bottom lip was split down the center, and bright-red blood glistened across his quivering mouth. A thin stream slid down from the cut and mixed with the tears streaking along his cheek. The bloody tears suffused at his chin, then dribbled down to his shirt in murky, red splotches.
    They called for round two, and we went right back at it. We fought toe-to-toe like that for a very long time. It became a battle of wills. I cracked first. The sizzling heat, the surging roars, the bursts of white in my vision—it was all too much. I got dizzy, stumbled, and then locked eyes with the wiry Assyrian kid. He looked worried. It could have been his brother. The dead Assyrian’s face swirled up and flashed in my mind—his blood-dampened hair, the frozen scream. I tried to say I was sorry, to tell him that I pray for his brother sometimes. I’m so sorry. Leroy smacked me with a hard punch to the forehead, and I crumpled to the pavement and curled up in a fetal ball.
    Suddenly, BB leered down at me.
    â€œOne... Two... Three... Four...”
    Ryan dashed over and squatted down on his hams beside me.
    â€œCome on, Joe, get up... Please get up.”
    Ryan’s strained face floated over me before the cloudless, stark-blue sky that hovered above. The sun was silhouetted perfectly by his round head. My crucifix dangled down from his neck and swayed over my eyes. What if he don’t wanta be my friend no more. This cool calm spread over me. I wiped my tears, took a deep breath, and stood up. Then, I walked straight to Leroy and cracked him. He reeled backward, and I unloaded a barrage of shots that bounced his head around like a paddle ball. Finally, Leroy spun and belly flopped on the cement. His cheek clapped the concrete and kicked up a spray of white dust that caked the whole side of his face. The dust clung to his tears and sweat like flour sprinkled on wet dough.
    BB counted over Leroy. My fists felt like hot goo. I heard the low rumble of a Diesel engine, then tires crinkling atop the pebbled alleyway. The obese black kid stepped up behind me and pounded his heavy paw on my back. The others joined him, and their many hands jolted me as I stepped back, heaving. A car door unlatched, swung open, and slammed shut. I craned to see over the ring. There was a light-brown truck just down the alley. Suddenly, Leroy sprang up and drove his shoulder into my hip. We both tumbled to the pavement, sprawling, and I knew I’d roll him. He straddled me and tried to punch down, so I yanked his shirtsleeve downward, reached up, and clutched his mucky, tear-drenched jaw. Then, I twisted and toppled him. As we rolled, a large hand clamped down on my arm and yanked me clear up into the air. My big brother Rich’s glossy, steel-blue eyes flashed in mine. His teeth flared at the center of his bristly beard. The wild, brown curls of