"Hey! Hey!"
Nothing beat a gun. The guys across from them, who'd been cursing a moment ago, immediately backed down. They raised their hands, fingers spread toward Tony to show they meant no harm, and shouted, "Easy, easy!"
Only the guy who'd started the trouble still stood there with his chin out, refusing to give in. He kept taking deep breaths and glaring at Tony, though his eyes kept darting to the gun.
"Come on, tough guy. Make a move."
Tony tilted his head back and bared his teeth at him. He even thrust his massive belly forward, while the gun hung loose at his waist, closer to the other guy's hand than his own.
Everyone playing on the court had noticed something was wrong. The sound of bouncing balls died away, and silence fell all at once. One, two, three, four, five, six, seven—those seven seconds seemed to stretch into an eternity.
"Forget it. Just forget it."
The two who'd backed down sensed the danger and hurriedly grabbed their friend by the shoulders, pulling him back. "Let's go. Come on." He stayed stubborn for a while longer, but at last the fight went out of him, and he let himself be dragged away, half pushed and half pulled.
"Punk, get lost! Don't let me catch you around here again!"
Little Lowry slipped out from behind Tony and shouted after him. He even reached out and gave the guy a hard shove on the head.
The guy was so furious that the veins in his forehead bulged. His eyes were bloodshot, and he looked like a beast ready to devour someone alive. His friends dragged him off with great effort, finally getting him out of sight.
"Thank goodness nothing happened..."
Song Ya let out a long breath. That had been so tense. He couldn't imagine what would've happened if the guy had actually dared to pull the gun from Tony's waistband. America really is something else, he thought.
Tony casually lowered his shirt to cover the gun, then called out to the people still watching. "Everything's fine! Okay?"
The sound of bouncing balls started up again. Little Lowry grinned at AK. "You got your wind back? If you're ready, let's keep playing."
After AK confirmed he was good to go, Little Lowry called to the others, "Same teams?"
"Same teams. Ya Li..." Tony gestured toward Song Ya.
"You're still playing? What if they come back with more people to get revenge?" Song Ya was stunned. They were going to stay and play? How could they be so carefree?
"Shut your damn mouth." Tony walked up and hissed through gritted teeth.
"Fine." Song Ya had no choice but to take his position at the top of the key and face off against Little Lowry again.
There were far fewer people playing now. Song Ya noticed several of them packing up to leave. They must've all sensed the danger, right? He felt on edge, jumping at shadows. A few figures suddenly appearing around the corner of the court, or the faint sound of sirens from the street in the distance, was enough to set his nerves taut.
"Hm? Something's off..."
He suddenly realized Little Lowry was acting strangely too. No more drives, no more fancy moves, and even his dribbling was clumsy.
No, it wasn't just him. Everyone was acting strangely.
They all pretended not to care, but they were talking less, and their movements had grown stiff. Silencer, who was the worst at hiding his feelings, kept glancing through the chain-link fence, just like Song Ya.
After turning it over in his mind, Song Ya finally got it. He grinned. His Black buddies' sense of "saving face" wasn't quite the same as that of people back in China, but there was something kind of endearing about the subtle similarities.
They managed to keep playing for another forty or fifty minutes before an old-fashioned electronic beeping suddenly sounded beneath the basketball hoop.
"Sorry."
AK went over to the pile of clothes and picked up a pager. After reading the message, he called to Little Lowry, "Looks like the boss has an emergency!"
"Okay." Little Lowry tossed the ball to Song Ya, then said to Tony, "Guess that's it for today. We'll pick it up next time."
"Sure." Tony hugged him and pounded him on the back with a fist. "You know where to find me. Just say the word."
"Yeah, thanks for today." Little Lowry gave Silencer and Song Ya big hugs too.
"Your problems are our problems," Tony said.
Little Lowry solemnly thumped his fist against his chest.
Everyone went their separate ways.
Only after Silencer started the car and Tony stowed the pistol under the seat did the weight finally lift from Song Ya's heart.
"What the hell was that!? All that happened, and you just stood there watching!"
Tony turned around and scolded him. "Next time something like that happens, you get in there right away and act with us, understand? Otherwise, people will leave you out."
So what if they left him out? Song Ya had never planned on joining their crew in the first place. "Why?" he asked. "Why pull a gun over something so minor? Why take such a huge risk? Was it worth it?"
Tony and Silencer didn't answer. After a long while, Silencer finally spoke in a full sentence. "No scholarship, no college."
"We stayed out of gangs and away from drugs, and focused on basketball all these years. What for?" Tony said. "So a college would recruit us and give us a scholarship to get out of this godforsaken place! You think we want to be out on the street getting into fights like that?"
"And what happened? No college team wanted us. Not even a community college."
"If we don't go to college, what can we do after we graduate? Work the night shift at KFC? Or clean bathrooms on the commercial strip?"
"That's not an option. Little Lowry's our best shot. We've got to make the most of it!"
"When his album officially comes out, he'll need lots and lots of help. He'll bring us along. He promised." A glimmer of hope appeared in Tony's eyes. "I've known him since we were kids. Once he makes it, there's nothing wrong with him bringing us along to enjoy the good life..."
Song Ya was a little confused. "After all that, are you saying Little Lowry promised you an actual job?"
"Why the hell do I have such a stupid little brother!"
Tony cursed. "Did you really get an A+? Little Lowry and I are buddies! We face everything together and share whatever money we have..."
"What the hell! Are you stupid, or am I!?"
Song Ya was stunned. Why should someone else share his money with Tony?
Well, it turned out Song Ya was the one being stupid. After Tony explained it, he finally understood.
It turned out that this really was a kind of "tradition" in Black communities. Since entertainment and sports stars were the fastest way for Black people in poor neighborhoods to move up in the world, singers and athletes could get rich overnight, and they had a responsibility to bring along the relatives and good friends who'd struggled with them, helping them rise to the top too. "Sharing money" was a bit of an exaggeration, but if Little Lowry really hit it big and wanted to bring Tony and Silencer along, their lives would certainly change dramatically.
Of course, they wouldn't just sit around doing nothing. They might moonlight as bodyguards, help order takeout, play video games together, act as a wingman, or—as they had today—throw their weight around and put on a show of force. Huh? When you added it all up, there was actually plenty of work to do.
"Let me think this through. Let me think."
Song Ya's Chinese way of thinking was slowly catching up. "So, if Little Lowry makes it big, the jobs he can offer you two are... being his entourage?"
"We're buddies," Tony corrected.
Call yourselves buddies if you want. Put less nicely, you're his goons, his entourage, his hangers-on, Song Ya thought. "By the way..."
He thought of several other possibilities. "What if Little Lowry doesn't make it? What if he thinks your stunt today was too impulsive and gets scared to have you around? He has to listen to his music boss, right? What if his boss doesn't want him bringing you along?"
"Uh..."
Tony and Silencer looked at each other. "If that really happens..." Tony murmured. "Then our only option is joining a gang." Their faces fell.
"So, when it comes down to it, getting a job is out of the question, right?" Song Ya finally understood, thinking to himself.
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