The Amazing Adventures of Phoenix Jones: And the Less Amazing Adventures of Some Other Real-Life Superheroes: An eSpecial From Riverhead Books Read Online Free Page A

pauses. “How you feed your family is not how we feed our family. For real. We’re not out here just for the fun and just for the show-and-tell. This is real life.”
    I am finding myself ostentatiously nodding at everything the crack dealers are saying, I suppose in the hope that if the shooting starts they’ll remember my nods and make the effort to shoot around me.
    “I appreciate the info,” says Phoenix.
    Suddenly a gang member takes a step forward and peers at Phoenix through his mask.
    “You’re a brother?” he says. “You’re a BROTHER and you’re out here looking like THIS? You’ve got to be out of your fucking mind, man.”
    And then, it all changes. “I feel threatened right now,” he says. “You’ve got ski masks on. I don’t know if you’re trying to rob me. A guy got shot last Friday in Belltown by somebody with a mask on. Is that you?”
    “You don’t have to be here,” says Phoenix. “You’ve got choices.”
    “I’ve been in the system since I was ten years old!” the man yells. “I haven’t got no choices! When your kids get older this is going to be the same shit.”
    “I disagree,” says Phoenix.
    “It can’t be better!” the man yells. “This is it!” A silence. Then, “When I see ski masks I’m thinking, ‘Are these guys going to rob me?’”
    The nine men withdraw up the block to decide what to do next.
    “Have a good night. Good meeting you,” calls Phoenix.
    They’re watching us, murmuring to each other. Their problem is that nobody wants to buy crack in front of three men dressed as superheroes. While Phoenix and his crew stand here, the dealers are losing all their business.
    Phoenix points to two packs of cigarettes under the windshield wiper of a nearby car.
    “Those are indications that you can buy here,” he says. “So I’m going to take them off and annoy the crap out of them.”
    He scrunches the packets up and throws them onto the sidewalk.
    At this, one of the gang steps forward. If you were watching from across the road it would seem as if he just wanders past us. But in fact he whispers something as he does: “You keep staying on our block we gonna have to show you what the burner do.”
    “Thank you, it’s great meeting you,” says Phoenix.
    “What’s a burner?” I whisper.
    “A gun,” Phoenix whispers back.
    The man loops and rejoins the others.
    The streets are deserted. It’s just the dealers and us. But then, miraculously, a taxi passes. I flag it. The superheroes all have bulletproof vests. I have nothing. I have a cardigan. I want to see how the drama plays out but I don’t want to be killed. “I’ll give you twenty bucks to just stay here,” I say to the driver.
    He looks around, taking in the scene in an instant. “No,” he says.
    “Thirty?” I say.
    And then, suddenly, the whole gang, all nine of them, some with their hands down their trousers, as if they’re holding guns just under their waistlines, walk toward us. I can’t see much of Phoenix’s face under his mask but I can see by the way his hands are involuntarily shaking that he is terrified.
    “My shift is over,” calls the taxi driver. “I need to go home now.”
    “Forty!” I yell. “Just stay there!”
    “I don’t care about the money!” the driver yells. But he doesn’t move.
    The nine men get closer.
    “Are we leaving or are we standing?” says Phoenix.
    “We’re standing,” says Ghost.
    “We’re standing,” says Pitch Black.
    “You’re willing to die for this shit?” one of the men is yelling. “You’re willing to DIE for this shit?” They reach us. “You guys are dumb motherfuckers,” he says. “I don’t even know what to say. You guys are fucking stupid.” He stares at Phoenix. But then his voice softens. “If you guys are going to stand here and die for it I guess we’re going to have to walk home. We should shoot your ass, but I guess we’ve got to go home.”
    And they do. They disperse. They go home.
    “You won!”