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to come with him to collect it.”
    “Hold on,” Harlow said. “What did this ’dude’ owe Eddie the money for?”
    Randy avoided his uncle’s eyes. “That’s what Eddie does for a living—he loans out money.”
    “And this was the first time you ever went with Eddie to collect?”
    “Uh… no. I done it before.”
    “And Eddie paid you, right?”
    “Uh-huh.”
    “Then let’s get things straight, boy. You were strong-arming for a loan shark when this ’something’ happened.”
    “I wouldn’t put it that way,” Randy said.
    Harlow smiled. “I can think of a half dozen judges and DAs who
would
. But go on with your story.”
    “When me and Eddie found the guy, I had to run him down. He was taking off on us. I knocked him down on the sidewalk, right off Ralph Avenue and Jefferson Street.
    “All of a sudden, the dude pulls out a piece and starts shooting. I didn’t know Eddie had a gun, too. Before I know it, there’s bullets flying all over. I got out of there, fast. I took in a movie over on Broadway.” He reached over to his jacket and took out a ticket stub.
    “Figuring that if anyone came looking for you, you’d say you were at the movie all along?” Harlow asked.
    Randy nodded. “When I got back to my street, there was talk already. Eddie was dead. The other guy was in the hospital in bad shape. But word on the street was that he’ssaying Eddie shot at him first. And the cops are looking for me.”
    “I’m not a bit surprised. But what brought you out here to me, Randy?”
    “Well, Mamma always talks about how you were in trouble once. That you did time, upstate. I thought maybe you, knowing about these things, could tell me what to do.”
    Harlow shook his head. “Francie always had a mouth on her. Did she ever tell you what I was in for?”
    “No.”
    “I was in for being stupid, that’s what for. I did six years out of eighteen for manslaughter. I killed a man with these.” Harlow held up two knotted fists. “Some fool got wise with my woman one night at a restaurant. He swung at me when I told him to buzz off. I punched him out. But he hit his head on a table when he fell. He died.”
    “Then it wasn’t your fault,” Randy said.
    “Oh, but it was. I was a pro—a boxer. To the law, my hands were deadly weapons. And it was my fault, too. I could have talked my way out of it. But a hot temper runs in the Fuller family. Your daddy had it too. It could have made him great in the ring. But it’s no good if you can’t control it outside the ring. That’s what happened to me.”
    “And you did all that time for it.”
    “Nowhere near what it could have been. After a few years, I got another lawyer and a new trial. When I came out, I was an ex-con. I lost my license to fight. It was hard to stay straight. Then I started in training young fighters that I thought looked good—kids who could be champs. I’ve done okay. I get respect as a businessman these days. But I still haven’t found my champ—that kid who can make it all the way to the top.”
    “So you never were a real criminal, were you?”
    “Sorry to let you down, Randy. I was stupid and made a bad mistake. I paid for it, too. Even one day in a cage would be too much. I did over two thousand days. Most hotheaded kids never know what it’s like inside—until it’s too late.”
    Harlow got up from his chair. “Now, what am I going to do with you, kid?” He saw the look on Randy’s face. “Don’t worry—I ain’t going to turn you in. But it’s a matter of time before the police start checking out the whole family. They
will
come here, sooner or later.”
    “If I can stay a few days…,” Randy began.
    “Are you hungry, kid?” Harlow asked. “Did you eat at all today?”
    “Not since breakfast.”
    “You go on into the kitchen. Help yourself to what’s in the freezer. You know how to run a microwave?”
    “Yeah.”
    “Get yourself something, then. I have to go down to the basement and set up a place