The Brave Read Online Free Page B

Sonny. Probably has a gun strapped to his ankle under his gray warm-up pants. But one good punch, I could be past him and out the door. Make it to the street. The Deuce. Get to SoHo.
    â€œTell you how dumb you are, young gentleman. You are thinking right now you could actually get through me.” Brooks shook hishead. “I am sick of this job and I am tired to death of fools like you.” He sighed, closed his eyes and leaned his head against the wall. “Why’d you leave home?”
    Sonny shrugged.
    â€œCan’t hear you.” His eyes were still closed. Sonny wondered if Brooks was daring him to try to escape. “You get thrown out?”
    â€œNo.”
    â€œAnyone make you do sex?”
    â€œNo.”
    â€œSo why’d you run?”
    Sonny grunted.
    â€œCan’t hear you. Why?”
    â€œGet away.”
    â€œWhy?”
    It just came out. “Be somebody.”
    Brooks’ eyes opened. “What?”
    â€œWant to be somebody.” Sonny wondered, Why am I talking to him?
    Brooks straightened up. “Everybody’s somebody.” His voice wasn’t so cold and hard. “Where you from?”
    â€œUpstate.”
    â€œHow far up which state?”
    Sonny shook his head. Answers would landhim back on the Res.
    â€œI don’t want to put you away. I just want you out of my jurisdiction, on a bus back home. Got that? So what’s your name and where you from?”
    â€œDon’t matter. I’m here now.”
    â€œI’m Sergeant Brooks. I can help you. What’s your name?”
    Brooks’ eyes were warmer than he would have thought. But Sonny shook his head. He wasn’t going back to the Res. Got to get to SoHo. Find Mom. Be hard now without the phone number and address.
    â€œYou got a real left hook. Ever box?”
    Sonny nodded.
    â€œPro?”
    â€œNot really.” Be careful, he thought. Don’t get suckered into giving away information. But he wanted to talk to this man.
    â€œHow’d you do?” Brooks was smiling. His voice was friendly.
    Can’t trust anybody in the Port or on The Deuce. Especially the pig posse.
    â€œI asked you, ‘How’d you do?’”
    The monster whispered, Good enough to clock you, pig.
    â€œTalk to me, young gentleman.”
    â€œGood enough to clock you, pig.”
    Brooks’ smile froze. He nodded. “Sound just like Stick. Fine and dandy, young gentleman. You called it.” He jerked a thumb at the door. “You’re free to go.”
    â€œLike that?”
    â€œLike that. Move out before I change my mind.”
    The cops outside the door eyeballed him all the way to the stairs, but none of them moved. He hurried down the stairs toward the front doors of the bus terminal. He had no idea what to do next. He had no money. But he knew he had to get out of here.
    He wasn’t ready for the dazzling lights of the street and the roar of traffic. Or the sharp fingernails that dug into his arm.
    He cocked his fist and whirled into that neon smile. “Oh, Sonny, you’re okay. I was so worried about you.”

5
    T HEY STROLLED T HE D EUCE and people checked them out as if they were somebodies. He felt strong and cool with Doll on his arm. He had never before had a girl he was proud to show off, and he swelled with the pleasure of being on parade. She walked tall like she felt it, too.
    â€œDoll!” An older man, maybe forty, bigger than Sonny, his bull neck hung with gold chains, stepped out of a video arcade.
    â€œLater, Mo.” Her body tensed and her voice seemed small.
    â€œI need to talk to you.”
    Doll picked up the pace until they had passed him. “Just some meatball, Sonny, don’t mean nothing.”
    He sensed it meant something, but the street took all his attention. He had never seen anything so filthy and ugly and stinking and full of life.
    Rock music pounded out of record stores and fought for airtime with the rap