Moment of truth

          A frightened eleven year old boy stares at the faces in the alleyway. His hands and his knees are quaking, but he's doing his best to hide it. There are thirteen faces. They stood arranged six in a line roughly four feet apart, another six parallel to them and one face at the end. He knows each one. Every one of them had come to his house and eaten barbecue chicken at least once after church, or on the fourth. He had never liked them much. They were always there at the request of his brother.

          These weren't the same faces that he had grown up with. There was something strikingly different about each one. Some shifted their weight from side to side. Some just stood there in the overhead light of the alley dancing on their forearms and casting shadows over their eyes. He knew they were clenching and unclenching their fist as if trying to pack their knuckles into the smallest, hardest balls they could. The faces ranged from 22 to 12. The smaller ones, about five in all, were clutching bats or pipes or planks of wood with nails protruding from the ends.  With each passing moment he could feel them growing more angry, more determined.

          All of this was directed at the scrawny, scared little boy staring down the alley-way. He had never wanted to be there. He had never wanted to be involved with any of it. It hadn't been like this four years ago when they moved to this god-forsaken little town. Back then his brother and him were closer. They looked out for each other. Everything was the same for the summer after they moved. They spent most of their times in doors playing video games or riding bikes outside. 

          But once school started things changed. He was just starting third grade and his brother was starting sixth. They went to two different schools so for the first time, they could only walk a little ways together before heading off in thier own separate directions. Everything was fine for him in elementary school. He had a little difficulty in math, but he earned a lot of gold stars everywhere else and he got along with the other kids. His brother wasn't having so easy a time. On his way to middle school he'd run into some local kids who started harassing him and taking his money, supplies, and lunch. His brother was tough, but tough doesn't mean much against a cadre of eighth graders. 

         
(To Be Continued...)