Tommy Tatti once said that Joey should run for mayor on the Fordham Baldie ticket.

The next day at lunch, word was out that the niggers had decided not to rumble. No one knew why, but Antone and Richie knew that Joey had a hand in it. The main reaction was a lot of curses and grumbling, palm-pounding and shadow-boxing.

"Ah, I woulda beat their fuckin' skulls in."

"Ah, I had it all planned. They wouldna knowed what hit 'em."

"Ah, them fuckin' coons is cowards."

 

That night Richie ate two steaks and had two portions of cooked fruit for dessert. After dinner he decided to drop in on the Wanderers' camp—a deserted lot down the block from his house bordered by trees and the backs of commercial garages. The Wanderers had cleared an area about twenty-five feet in circumference where they built campfires and sniffed glue. The surrounding garages were spray-painted with the gang's name and then individual names under that.

A block away Richie sensed something was wrong. He saw too many people standing around the camp. At first he thought they were cops who were always coming around when there was a good fire going, but it was too light yet for a fire. They weren't cops. He raced up to the clearing.

It was the Wongs.

The Wanderers were standing around not knowing what to do or say. Perry ran up to Richie whispering hysterically. "It's the fuckin' Wongs!"

"What's goin' on?"

"I don't know! They ain't sayin' anything!"

The Wongs stood there as if posing for a group photograph, faces expressionless, eyes slits. They didn't move a muscle. If one of them gave out with a judo shout the Wanderers would have cleared the place in ten seconds flat. Richie looked around. His troops were standing in little clusters, staring and nervously rubbing their arms. Finally Teddy Wong, the leader of the clan, decided that enough of the Wanderers had shown up and very softly said "We came up here to warn you guys about me niggers." '

"We thought the fight was off!" Perry's voice cracked. Entranced, Richie stared at the dragon tattoo on Teddy's forearm.

"It is. They're just after one guy. Who's Gennaro?"

Richie swallowed his jaw. He ran up to Teddy. "How come? Whad I do? Whad I do?"

Teddy stared at him contemptuously. The other Wongs sneered at such a breakdown in composure. "Come off it, man. I saw what you wrote on the sidewalk in front of school and by the bus stop."

"What! What! I didn't write nothin'!"

Teddy turned to leave. The others filed out after him. Richie wanted to run up and cry on Teddy's tattoo and beg forgiveness; he was more afraid of the Wongs than of Clinton Stitch and the niggers. The last Wong to leave turned to face Gennaro. "That was stupid, man ...