Arnie Kovacs loomed over Kelan. His eyes were deep orbs of black. A fat wad of gum filled his cheeks. “What the fush you doin’ here, faggot? Showin’ off again?”
Kelan tasted blood on his lips. He wiped the snow from his cheek and looked past Arnie. Of the three other Packers, only Simon served him any kind of compassion. Even at that, the little guy kept the eye contact to a minimum.
“Fushin’ freak,” Arnie snapped. “You just don’t get it, do ya?”
Kelan eyed the others who had come. He didn’t know them. The two boys were older, Arnie’s age, but much smaller. The girl? Forget it. No help there. He wondered where Morris Franks and Derrick Beattie were. Wondered how long he could hold out before he swallowed his blood and gave Arnie a sign to smack him.
“I think he’s brain-dead,” Tony Armano said, chuckling. “I guess you hit him too hard, Arn.”
“Not hard enough.” Arnie slapped Kelan. “You little cockshusher. You got blood on my coat.”
Kelan swallowed.
Arnie caught Kelan’s blunder and slapped him again. “You think you’re some kinda shit, don’t you, Lishk? What I see is chicken shit.”
“Leave him alone,” the girl said.
Kelan thought she looked a bit like Anna.
“Fush you,” Arnie said.
“Bet you can’t do it,” the girl said.
“Yeah? Bet you can’t keep that pie hole shut for two seconds. Dumb bish.”
The girl snarled at Arnie. “One stupid jerk, two stupid jerk. There.”
Arnie shoved Kelan to the ground. He stepped over him and ordered his cronies to grab the girl. Tony and Randy grabbed her by the arms.
The other boys made a move to help the girl, and Arnie barked at them. “You want a Really Good Beating?”
The boys moved back.
Arnie packed a snowball and moved about ten feet from the girl. Tony had her on the left, Randy the right. Simon worked his gum like a machine.
“Hold her hair,” Arnie said. “Hold that bish.”
“What about them?” Tony asked. He pointed to a group of adults near the playground. They hadn’t noticed the goings-on.
Arnie grumbled. “You wanna be next, shithead?”
Tony looked at Randy, then latched onto the girl’s hair. She struggled and he yanked it. “Don’t make it worse,” he told her. “It’ll be over quick.”
“Shut the fush up,” Arnie said. He sculpted the snowball. He had the Itch; had the twitch. He looked down at Kelan, and then, with a slick grin, reached into his pocket and produced a nickel. He held it up for all to see, then slid it into the snowball.
The girl ripped an arm free, taking Tony and Randy by surprise. Her hair slipped loose and she started to run.
“Damnit!” Arnie shouted. He bolted for her and tripped her up. He grabbed her by the hair. “One fushing word and you’re dead, bish. You got me?”
The girl nodded.
Arnie glared at Tony and Randy. “Get over here, you useless tits.”
Tony and Randy walked up to Arnie. Arnie handed Tony the snowball.
“Arnie—”
“Just fushing take it. You let her go.”
“I didn’t—”
“Take it.”
Tony took the snowball.
Arnie clenched the girl’s hair. “See the shit you caused? Couldn’t keep your trap shut, could ya?”
“Come on, Arn,” Tony said.
“Don’t fush with me, Tony.”
“At least let me take the nickel out.”
“You’re a pussy, Armano. Leave it.” Arnie cleared the hair from the girl’s face and propped her head back slightly. He looked at Tony. “On three.”
Kelan stirred. Everyone knew what was going to happen on three, and he knew more than anyone what was going to happen after three. Tony wouldn’t be next. Randy, either. And judging by this chain of events, he might not get off with just a Really Good Beating. Arnie was at the top of his game, and the nickel-in-a-snowball was only a warm-up. Legend had it, Arnie had once made a kid swallow a nickel.
Tony brought his arm back. “On three.”
And on three, Tony Armano fired.