I remember that time like it was yesterday, that memorable day that started everything. I can’t remember the exact date, but it was sometime in 1958.  I remember waking up to Donny shaking me like there was no tomorrow. 

“Donny! Cut it out!”  

“Sorry, sorry,” he responded, but it sure didn’t seem like he was. 

“What do you want? Shakin’ me before dawn like the devil himself is at your heels!” 

“You sound like an old lady. Must be your morning head. Now get up!” 

“What is it?” 

“It’s Jersey. He’s in big trouble.” 

“What’d he do this time?” I stood up and brushed myself off. 

“He was just fooling around, you know, jumpin’ some Italianos, like he usually does. He was pretty boozed up, and he was sputterin’ some trash to them. They wouldn’t have that, so they went up like they was gonna beat the tar outta him. Him bein’ drunk an’ all, he pulled out his switch, thinkin’ they would just run away, since he was too tipsy to fight anyhow. But they didn’t. The leader, what’s-his-name…”  

“Leonardo.” 

“Yeah, that’s right, Leonardo. Well, turns out he had his switch to. Jers just stood there like an idiot, not knowin’ what to do. Now, you know he’s a good fighter an’ all, but he was about to pass out. So he pocketed his blade and ran so sideways he almost hit a wall. They cornered him, the three of them Italianos. He took his switch back out, and they were about to get into it when the fuzz showed up. Leonardo immediately put his blade away, taking advantage of Jersey’s unawareness. Jersey just stood there, and the boys and I got there just in time to see the cops talkin’ to him. Of course, Jersey was seen as the bad guy. They let the Italians go and took Jersey to the big house.” 

“Is he alright?” I knew he would be, it was definitely not his first time in jail. 

“Yeah, yeah. Didn’t even pick a fight with the guards, even though he didn’t do nothin’. It’s like he’s more…” 

“Content. You know, in jail.” 

“Yeah. You always were the smart one of this gang, huh?” Of course I was, well, in the academic way. They had all dropped outta school by 14. Of course, they were much smarter than me when it came to common sense. “How much time did they give him?” 

“Only two weeks. He didn’t do anything.” 

“Yeah, ok. Them Italianos were really pushin’ it.” Here in New York, there were more Italian immigrants than ever. They were leaving their country out of poverty, and a lot of them, (like the Italianos, for example) were still poor and homeless. That’s why a lot of them lived on the streets. 

“Yeah, they were. We’ll get 'em’ soon enough.” Now, us Blades (that was our name, don’t know what side it came from though) didn’t have a lot. Most of our parents were drunk, divorced, dead, or didn’t want us around. So the only family we had was each other. What we did have, besides that, which gave us a lot of pride, was our turf. Now, don’t get me wrong, it was a poor and shady neighborhood, barely inside New York City, but it was ours. And the Italians were trying to take it from us. 

“Hey, got any cigarettes?” I said, holding my hand out. Donny placed one in my palm and reached for one of his own. I struck a match and lit it up. Donny did the same. The light from the cigarettes lit up the small room. We all stayed in me and my brother Soap’s house, us six. He was somehow able to keep it after our parents died. After a long drag of smoke, Donny spoke. 

“You know, I never understood it. The way Jersey never seemed to care about anything.” I had wondered the same thing. Nothing in the whole wide world seemed to matter to Jersey, and he was always getting himself into trouble on purpose. He jumped kids, got drunk, went to rumbles, trespassed, shoplifted. The cops knew him by name, they even had a file on him. Whenever something happened, the cops always talked to Jersey first. 

“Yeah. I wonder what goes on inside that guy’s head.” 

“I don’t think anything goes on up in there.” Donny chuckled, and I laughed with him. It seemed like he could make anyone laugh, no matter the situation. I layed down on the big air mattress in the corner and looked up at the ceiling. 

“Donny?” 

“Yeah, Jesse?” 

“Ever thought of gettin’ a job?” 

“Now why would I do that? I’ve got everything I need right here. My family,” he came over and messed my hair. “I’ve got this nice ol’ house,” he gestured around the room. “And I’ve got Jersey to go to the store and get me whatever I want whenever I want it.” I had to laugh. That was basically our life. 

“But, have you ever wanted something more? Like a real family of your own? Money that ain’t stolen, and groceries that you actually bought? A nice big home, and a job that you were proud of?” 

“Jesse, you sure do have a wild imagination, don’t you?” 

After a few hours, we were all up. Even Soap, who usually slept in late. Now, I know what you're thinking. Soap is an odd name, but that’s what my parents named him, though I don’t know why. I don’t think he’s used soap a day in his life. 

“Heyyo,” Coach said as he walked into the tiny kitchen. Coach and Soap were best friends. 

“Hey. Whaddya want for breakfast?” That was a funny question, since the only thing we ever had for breakfast was toast. 

“I think I’ll have one of them fancy…Whaddya call em’ Jess?” 

“Crepes?” 

“Yeah, yeah. Crepes. Can you make one of those for me, Soapy-boy?” Instead of responding, Soap just threw a piece of toast at him. Coach caught it in one hand and took a huge bite. 

“I think this might be the best dry bread I’ve had in my life. You are a talented chef, Soap.” 

“Shut up and eat your toast,” Soap said as Mikey poked his head through the door. 

“Where we goin’ today, Soap?” 

“Why you askin’ me? Do whatever the heck you want. You do it anyway.” 

“Yeah, yeah, ok.” You never knew with Mikey. He was kind of the stupid one of the group.

“Soap, can you take me to work with you today?” Soap was the only one with a job around here, he helped Mr. Riley in his corner shop. 

“What for?” Soap asked. 

“I think I just need to get outta the house today.” 

“Ok, but you ain’t gonna go slack. If you come, you're gonna hafta work.” 

“I know, I know.” I lit myself a cigarette. 

“You really need to cut the smoking, Jess. You're only 15,” He said, lighting himself a cigarette too. 

“Yeah. I’ll stop as soon as you do.” Soap nodded at me and took it out of his mouth. 

“Good one, kid.”   

After Soap and I got ready, we started walking to the corner store. It was about a mile away. 

“Soap?” 

“Yeah, kid?” 

“Why are all the Italians coming to New York? I know it’s cuz they is gettin’ outta poverty and all that, but can you explain it to me?” Whenever I didn’t understand something, Soap was as good a teacher as any.  

“Yeah, ok. So kids like Leonardo aren’t new immigrants. His grandparents or somethin’ or other came here in the early 1910s. That’s why his English is just as good as ours. That’s how most of their group is.” 

“Why did they come?” 

“Well, Southern Italy was facing some pretty bad poverty, so they came here, to live the American dream and all that. Most of them was doin’ pretty good, but Leonardo and them’s families either couldn’t find jobs, or they died, so here they are, trying to take our turf.” 

“Why our turf? Don’t they have Mulberry Street and East Harlem, places like that?” 

“You gotta remember, kid. We’re not so welcome with our own kind, being street kids. It’s the same for them.” We continued walking, and I contemplated this. They weren't really all that different from us. So why did we have to fight with them so much? The rest of the trip to the shop was silent, and as we neared the door Soap put his hand on my shoulder. He brought his face down to my ear. 

“You’re not allowed to smoke in there,” he said, putting out his own cigarette. I put mine out too and we walked in. 

“Howdy, kids,” Mr. Riley said. 

“Good morning.” Soap could really sweet talk adults if he had too. 

“Hey, Jesse. Long time no see.” 

“Good to see you,” I said, not knowing what else to say. 

“So, is this little guy gonna be helping around the shop today?” Why was he treating me like I was eight years old? 

“Yeah,” Soap said, ruffling my hair. 

“Good. Y’all can start in the back, putting all of the Coke bottles on shelves.” Soap and I started right away. After about fifteen minutes, we heard the bell of the door opening. 

“How can I help you?” I heard Mr. Riley say. 

“Em…Do you have any cigarettes?” I’d recognized that voice anywhere. I saw Soap tense up beside me. 

“Yeah, in the back,” Mr. Riley said. I heard the slick steps as Leonardo neared where we were stocking shelves. Soap stood tall and motioned for me to do the same. We started walking around, pretending like we were looking for something. Then, Leonardo came around the corner. 

“Leonardo, how good to see you,” Soap spat at him. 

“And the same to you,” Leonardo said with a smooth accent.

“You know, you put my buddy in jail,” Soap said. 

“He was asking for it,” Leonardo responded coolly. Soap stepped up like he was gonna take a swing at him, but I went up behind him and grabbed his arms. 

“Oh, look at this. The little rat is keeping you from hitting me. You must be so weak to be stopped by him.” Soap wouldn’t have that. He pulled his arms free and socked Leonardo in the nose. Leonardo threw a punch at Soap, but he ducked, and it nailed me right in the face. Soap jumped up, looked at me, and seeing that I was hit, got even more upset. He kicked Leonardo right in the chest, slamming him into the shelf behind him, knocking it over, and causing a domino effect. Leonardo reached into his back pocket, but before he could pull his blade on us, Mr. Riley ran over. 

“What has been going on? Can’t you guys get along at all?” Mr. Riley was enraged. “Soap, if it wasn’t obvious already, you're fired.” Soap looked down and Leonardo laughed. 

“You work here?” Leonardo was almost rolling on the ground, he was laughing so hard. 

“And you, young man,” Mr. Riley said, picking Leonardo up by the collar, “Are going to leave, and never come back. You are banned from this store.” He dragged Leonardo behind him, and Leonardo was not even struggling, he was still laughing. Mr. Riley threw him out. Leonardo walked away down the street. 

“I am very disappointed in you two,” Mr. Riley said, shaking his head. 

“Y’all were very good help, but my wife warned me about this. ‘Don’t trust street rats’ she said.” He shook his head again. Soap was glaring at the floor. 

“You may leave now, here is your last pay,” Mr. Riley said, taking out some money and giving it to Soap. Soap put it in his pocket and grabbed my shirt, and we walked out the door. He continued walking and grabbing me, even though it wasn’t the way home. We got to a bench and he sat me down. 

“You hurt?” He was madder than I’d ever seen him. 

“No, I’m alright.” My face hurt real bad, and I was kinda dizzy, but Soap was scaring me so I didn’t tell him.

“You always are, aren’t you?” He chuckled darkly. “I can’t believe I put you in danger like that. I’m supposed to be your big brother.” 

“But Soap, you didn’t mean too.” 

“That’s no excuse. And I can’t believe he got me fired from my job! Anyhow, that little Italian brat is gonna get it good. Just you wait till Jers gets outta the slammer. We’ll get him then.” 

“I…I don’t think you guys oughta fight.” 

“Why not?” 

“I just got a feelin’ somethin’ bads gonna happen.”  

“Yeah. If we don’t do somethin’.” Soap had never acted like this before. I was worried. I know now that I should have listened to myself. 

Soap took me home, and then went back into the bigger part of the city to look for a new job. I sat alone on the couch, smoking and reading the paper. It was the West Side gang this week. We all got in the paper pretty often, whether that was the West Side, us, or the Italianos. I wasn’t all that interested in the story, but I was reading it anyway. 

“Hey, kid,” Donny said, sitting beside me. 

“What’s up Donny?” I said, not looking up from the paper. 

“Do you wanna go with me to see Jersey?” I thought about it for a moment. Jersey kind of scared me, but we were buddies. I decided that I should go see him. 

“Ok. Let’s go.”   

We walked for a while before Donny finally spoke. 

“What happened today? Soap just kind of took off before I could ask.” 

“Oh, well, we went to Mr. Riley’s corner shop. I was helping Soap shelve some things. We ran into Leonardo, and he got Soap fired.” 

“Is that where you got that big ol’ bruise?” 

“Yeah, Leonardo right hooked me.” Donny chuckled. 

“Just you wait till’ Jersey hears about this,” he shook his head, smiling. 

“What do you mean?” 

“Well, if he knew Leonardo got ya, he would pitch a fit. After being’ put in jail, then you getting jumped, he would be pretty mad.” I never thought about Jersey ever caring what happened to me.

 “Oh. Y’all aren’t gonna fight with the Italians, are ya?” 

“Well, we ain’t started a rumble yet. I wouldn’t be surprised if it happened soon though.” 

“But didn’t you hear about what happened on the West Side with the Puerto Ricans?” I thought back to the story I had read in the paper. 

“Yeah. They got em pretty good, huh?” Jersey’s friend from the West Side, Ricky, had shot and killed a Puerto Rican at a rumble a few weeks ago. I heard from someone that he was hiding out in an abandoned apartment building, but that could just be rumor. 

“Pretty good? One of them got killed. I don’t know what I’d do if one of you guys got stabbed or shot or somethin’. You guys are all I have.” 

“It’s alright, Jess. If we started a rumble with the Italianos, there would be no weapons involved.” Yeah, I thought. But what would happen if they pulled something? That bad feeling kept getting worse. 

We visited Jersey at the station house, and he said that they were lessening his sentence, and that he would get out the next day. They had found out what had really happened, but decided to keep Jersey in jail for the rest of the day to ‘teach him a lesson about drinking’. Donny was right about Jersey getting mad, too. He swore he was going to ‘hunt down those bratty Italian pigs’ once he got out. I was stunned. Then, Jersey looked around, and stuck his hand through the bars. 

“Can you give me a smoke? They haven’t let me have one in three days.” 

“You ain’t even been here that long,” I said, laughing. He just rolled his eyes at me and shook his hand until I dropped one in it. Donny threw him a match. Jersey cupped his hand over the end of the cigarette as he lit it, and then he shook the match out and sat down. After about thirty seconds of him thinking about something, he told us that someone was going to pay. I sure hoped it wouldn’t be us. 

After Donny and I got home, we just chilled until Soap came. Soap looked exhausted as he dumped some groceries on the table. I took them being there as a good sign. 

“How’d your day go, Soap?” I asked him. 

“Oh great, just great,” he said sarcastically, running his hand through his hair. Mikey walked over. 

“Where’d ya get these?” I was wondering the same thing. 

“Oh, I got ‘em from the Whitehouse. Whaddya think, you moron? The store.” Soap had never acted like this. 

“With what money? You sure didn’t earn any today, and you used the money from last week to fix the hole in the roof,” Donny said. 

“Since when did we need money to get what we want around here?” Soap shouted. We were all surprised stiff. Soap always tried to do the right thing. He hated the labels that were put on us, and yet, here he was, acting like Jersey. You could tell something was weighing on Soap, and he was upset. He obviously didn’t want to steal, but without money, there was no other way to feed the house. And sure, Soap was fine with Jersey shoplifting, but he couldn’t take doing it himself. I suddenly had the urge to hug my brother. Though that wasn’t seen as tuff or cool, I went over there and gave him a huge hug. Soap’s face softened and he hugged me back. 

“I’m so sorry, Soap.” 

“What are you apologizing for? You didn’t steal from a store.” 

“That’s why I’m apologizing.” He shook his head. 

“You're a funny kid, Jesse.” He let me go and looked at the table. “I’m turning into Jersey. Stealing. Shouting,” Soap said, shaking his head again. We all knew that was his worst nightmare. To be honest, it was all of ours. Jersey was a juvenile delinquent who didn’t take nothing from nobody, who didn’t care about anything, and who would probably get himself shot within the next year. I shivered to think that there were tons of kids like him all over the city. 

That night, as I lay on the thin foam mattress with Donny and Soap beside me and Coach and Mikey across the room, I thought. Now, we were way better off than a lot of street kids. Well, quotes on the ‘street’, because we lived in this house. Even though it was small, at least we had shelter. I mean, we didn’t have anything but the clothes we were wearing, but we had a house, and that was a big deal. All of the West Side kids, Italians, and even some of the Puerto Ricans were living in alleys. I could see now why Mr. Riley was hesitant to trust us, and that’s because we looked like the West Side kids. They were all like Jersey, though you could tell that inside those hardened hearts, there was fear. Fear of living alone in no house, fear of being caught, fear of having to steal, fear of being shot, fear of being afraid of all those things. That was the one difference between Jersey and them. Jersey had no fear. I quietly drifted off to sleep. 

The next morning, there was no casual banter, no arguing, no laughter. There was only silence. Our house was never silent. I sat up and opened my eyes. There was no one in the room, and the light from the window suggested it was around 10 in the morning. Holy cow, I’d slept for three extra hours! No wonder there was no one there! I looked at my watch and saw that my suspicions were correct. I got out of bed and walked to the kitchen. There was a note on the fridge. 

Dear Jess, 

You looked real tired, and I didn’t wanna wake you. We just went down to the station house to pick up Jersey. Be back by noon. 

-S.R. 

Soap’s initials. Soap Roberts. And noon? They must have just left! I could catch up if I ran. I grabbed a drink of water and ran out of the house, closing the door behind me. I ran down the sidewalk until I saw some dirty white T-shirts and black leather jackets. I stopped behind them and huffed a greeting, until I realized something. From far away, I had estimated wrong. These kids had slick black hair, and were talking differently. They turned around, and I immediately recognized them. It was the Italianos.

“Oh, look here boys. It’s the rat whose brother just got fired,” Leonardo said smoothly. 

“Because of you!” I spat at him, trying to stand tall and act like Soap would. 

“No, I think it was because of his being a…” He said a word that crossed the line. I was about to reach for my switch when I realized that they outnumbered me five to one, and I was cornered. 

“It looks like the rat needs to be groomed,” Leonardo said, taking in my messy hair. 

“Whaddya say we give it to him?” I leaned against the fence behind me as Leonardo got his switch out. I closed my eyes and hoped that he wouldn’t try to kill me, and that when he cut me it wouldn’t hurt too bad. I opened my eyes to a yelp. There was my gang, standing behind the Italianos. Soap had punched Leonardo in the back, which must have been the cause of the yell. I grabbed my switch. The rest of the gang already had theirs out. I ran to join them. Jersey was there, and he put his hand on my shoulder. 

“Nice goin’, kid. We’ve been looking for them, and you just stroll and find ‘em for us. Gave them a good distraction, too.” I smiled. I’m sure I was gonna hear it from Soap later though. He was going to be furious with me. 

I looked over to see Leonardo and Soap circling each other, holding out their blades. I was terrified. I didn’t know what to do. So I just yelled for their attention. 

“Guys! Stop!” I shouted. Soap looked at me like I was crazy. “Don’t you think we oughta actually schedule a rumble, rather than just killing each other in the street?” I didn’t know what I was talking about, but everyone stopped and thought about it. 

“Kid’s got a point,” Jersey said. 

“Ok then. Tonight. Seven o’clock. The park. No weapons until the last two standing, then its blades. And no touching each other before the fight,” Soap said. The park was no-man's land. Leonardo agreed, and we walked away. 

“What were you thinking, Jess?” Soap snapped. 

“He wasn’t, he never does,” Donny said. 

“I’m alright, ain’t I?” I responded. 

“You could have been killed if we hadn’t showed up,” Soap said. 

“I’m fine! Would you just quit babying me? You have been in more danger at younger, and I didn’t even get cut.” 

“You’re my brother, Jesse. I have to protect you.” 

“Well maybe I don’t need protecting!” I couldn’t understand why I was so mad at Soap until I started to cry. Oh, I couldn’t believe this. Maybe I did need babying if I was gonna cry like one. 

“Oh Jesse, what is it?” To be honest, I had no clue. I just shook my head. Soap came over and hugged me. 

“I’m alright, I’m ok,” I said, rubbing my eyes. “Just allergies.” 

“Yeah, right, kid,” Jersey laughed, rubbing my head. I had it then. Jersey did care about something. It was us. 

The rest of the day was spent preparing for the rumble. Miraculously, Soap had agreed to let me go. He said that I was old enough and I needed to be in a rumble sometime or other. He wasn’t too worried, since I wasn’t all that good of a fighter, so I wouldn’t be one of the last ones standing. The ones that were worrying me were Soap and Jersey. They were great fighters, and one of them was gonna have to be in the final. One of them was going to get hurt. 

We practiced some moves in the small yard in front of our house, hitting each other, the bushes, and the wall. Everyone practiced some things with a switch, although they were pretty straightforward and we’d all used one before. I got a sick feeling in my stomach as it grew closer to 7:00. At 5:30, Soap made dinner, and a pretty fancy one too. He made hamburgers, which you wouldn’t think was fancy unless you never got to eat them for anything other than special occasions like this. I barely touched my food though, I was still too worried. Donny noticed this as I gave the rest of my food to Mikey. 

“Jess, everything will be fine, you’ve got nothing to worry about.” I never took Donny for a liar. 

6:50 came along, and I was shivering on the walk to the park, though it was about seventy degrees still. Jersey offered me his jacket, but I refused. I wasn’t cold. We continued walking down the street lamp lit street as the sun set. We arrived at the park two minutes early, so we lined up in the middle of the field. I grabbed Soap’s hand and he squeezed mine. We stood there for about five minutes before the Italians showed up. 

“You're late,” Soap growled. 

“Who cares? We’re here now, ain’t we?” Leonardo didn’t seem worried at all. It was like he was preparing for a musical rather than a rumble. He silently took his switch out, and the light of the setting sun glinted off the blade. He played around with it for a little while, letting us take a look, and then popped the blade back in and put it in his pocket. Then he motioned for the rest of his gang to line up as we had, and we waited. 

“Well, who wants to start us off?” Leonardo could barely get his sentence out before Jersey punched him in the face. I guess that answered that question. It was like someone had shot a bullet from a gun. As soon as Jersey hit Leonardo, everyone went into a frenzy, pounding each other. I looked over to see Jersey kneeling on Leonardo and punching him in the face. I barely had any time to feel happy he was ok before one of the Italians tackled me to the ground. I hit my head on a rock and struggled to get up, but the guy was heavy. I punched him repeatedly in the face, and he did the same. Then, suddenly, the guy was off me. Soap, though fighting with one of the bigger guys, had quickly kicked him off of me before going back to his fight. I got up and kicked the Italian in the face several times, and when I thought he was too hurt to stand up, I went to help Donny with his guy. There was blood everywhere, and before I knew it, I was on the ground again, though no one was on top of me. It must have been from when I hit my head on the rock. Head wounds bleed a lot, and I could see blood all over my white shirt. I heard Soap let out a pained yell. I was getting dizzy, and I must have passed out.  

When I came to, there were people all over the ground, and I heard groaning from both sides. I sat up and looked around, until I saw the two circling, as if in a dance. They were in the light of the street lamp beside the curb, both covered in their and other people’s blood. I could make out Jersey’s face, and I recognized the sly stance of Leonardo. I saw Jersey get low and advance, only to have Leonardo dodge the blade. They did this for several minutes. They were staring each other down when suddenly we heard a siren in the distance. Leonardo looked away from Jersey for a split second and Jersey buried his blade in Leonardo’s chest. Leonardo fell to his knees, but not before stabbing Jersey too. I started screaming for Jersey to run, but it was too late. He slumped to the ground. Soap jumped up, and I could see he was struggling. He grabbed Jersey by the collar, but he was limp. Soap crumpled Jersey’s shirt in his hands and started to cry. I couldn’t help it. I did too. I struggled to my feet, made sure I wouldn’t fall over, and limped towards where my brother and my dead friend were. I sat with Soap, and he hugged me. The Italians, stunned, grabbed Leonardo and walked away to mourn in peace, tears streaming down their faces. Donny, Mikey, and Coach slowly joined us, and we all grieved for our lost friend. 

We heard the sirens getting closer, so we got wise and decided to leave. We thought the best thing to do was to leave Jersey there. The cops would figure something out. We said our last goodbyes to him and ran as fast as we could, which wasn’t very fast considering how beat up and sad we were. We got to the house, and I immediately slumped onto the couch. I was not only physically exhausted, but emotionally. Jersey, almost like a brother, was dead. Maybe he was better off this way. He was going to end up dead young anyway, being reckless as he was. He didn’t enjoy life. It’s not like he cared about anything anyway. Well, no. He had never said it, but it was true. He definitely cared about us. And now, he was gone. With one stroke of a vengeful arm, he was dead. I wished we could have told him there was more to live for, that it was worth it. It was too late now. Too late for anything. Jersey was gone, with never once enjoying life in the first place.  

“Why did he have to die?” I moaned. “In fact, why did Leonardo have to die? Why did anyone have to die? They never did anything, we never did anything. It was just an argument. Why?” I was crying hard. 

“Why did we even hate them in the first place? We could have shared our turf. Why was this such a big deal?” Donny said. If we had just settled our differences, they would be alive. 

“And you know what else? Sure, Leonardo could be a brat, but so could Jersey. Neither of them deserved to die at 17,” I said. 

“We should have listened to Jesse. He told us something bad was gonna happen,” Soap responded, holding his side.

 We sat there in silence for a few seconds before Soap let out a low moan. I looked over at him and quickly remembered the yell I had heard during the rumble. 

“Soap, are you alright?” 

“I’m fine, I’m fine.” He was still clutching his side. 

“Soap, what happened?” I said, grabbing his hand. He didn’t even struggle and his hand fell limply from his hip. There was a hole in his shirt and blood pooling from it. 

“Soap?” Donny said worriedly.   

“I’m fine,” Soap tried to push himself up and then fell back against the couch. 

“No, you're not,” Coach said. “What happened?” 

“One of the kids pulled his blade on me early. I’m ok though. I ain’t dead, am I?” Soap’s voice sounded faint, not helping his case. 

“We need to take you to the hospital. They could have hit something important or you could bleed out.” Everyone looked at me incredulously. I was the only one who ever paid attention in science class. 

“Ok, whatever you say, but I still don’t need it.” We grabbed him under the arms and helped him stand. We got outside and walked down the street until we got to a place where there were a lot of cars. We hailed a taxi and got Soap into the back seat slowly. Donny reached far into his pocket and came up with a few crumpled dollar bills. He handed them to the driver. 

“Where to?” 

“The hospital, please,” I said. The man looked back at us, taking in our beat up state, and saw Soap bleeding. He nodded. It only took a few minutes. We would have walked, but we didn’t think Soap would make it. We got to the reception counter and we told the lady what happened. 

“I’ll get a doctor right away.” They brought over a rolling bed for Soap, and he was grimacing at all the special attention. He rode it anyway though, at that point he had bled so much that he couldn’t walk. We walked beside the bed and talked to him, but the nurses told us to stop. We waited outside the room they were going to bring him to, and as soon as they rolled him in they closed the door. A nurse walked over to us. 

“Only family allowed in his room, and only after they inspect him.” 

“We are his family,” Donny said. 

“Biological family.” 

“Bio-what now? You better not be saying I can’t see him,” Donny had tears in his eyes. 

“Only his real, flesh and blood family can see him.”

“Oh…so that only leaves Jesse,” Mikey said. Coach elbowed him in the ribs. 

“What?” 

“Nice goin’ Mike. Now we can’t see him.” 

We waited for about twenty minutes before they let me in. The guys were patting me and telling me it was going to be ok. I didn’t hear them. I was too worried about my brother. I pushed past the nurse to see Soap lying on the bed, barely breathing. There was not even any equipment attached to him. I knew what that meant. He was too injured to even bother with. 

“Hey, kiddo,” Soap said, with barely a sound. I was shocked at how a span of thirty minutes could diminish him so much. Not that long ago we were all talking in the living room. I started crying before I even reached his bed. 

“Hey, Jess. It’ll be alright.” 

“No it won’t, Soap! I don’t know what I’ll do without you!” 

“You’ll live,” he chuckled, and then winced. 

“But you won’t! That’s the problem!” I sobbed, and Soap struggled to lift his hand to pat my head. 

“That Italian kid did get me good, eh?” He chuckled again. “Hit my lower abdomen. That’s why it’s taking longer than Jersey.” I couldn’t understand how he was being so calm about this. He was about to die! My big brother, my hero, who raised me. Who played football with me. Who taught me how to cook. Who helped me with my homework, even if he didn’t know how and I got an F. Who had laughing blue eyes and a big smile. Who was funny even when he wasn’t trying. Who always tried to do the right thing. My brother. was. dying. I started sobbing harder. 

“Hey, hey. Stop it, bud. I know you're sad, but I don’t want you to be. You’ll be ok.” I cried more. “Hey, look at me.” I looked. “You are the smartest, kindest, coolest, most thoughtful kid I know. That’s a good way to be. Don’t lose it and turn bitter and hard like Jersey was just because we’re gone.” 

“I love you Soap,” I cried. 

“I love you too, kid. Tell the boys I love ‘em too. Take care of them, would ya? They need you.” I hugged him, which I’m sure hurt him real bad, but he didn’t even make a sound. I let go, and my brother uttered his last words. 

“Jess, remember what I told you…” he trailed off. My brother was dead. This is what happens when you lose your temper, when you let prejudices bring you to extremes. People get hurt. People who didn’t deserve it. Who had their whole lives ahead of them. This is what happens when you let your heart harden, when you give up. We had lost our family tonight. This is what happens when you lose it.