Sleepers (47 page)

I moved as low to the ground as I could, still twisting, then planted my hands between my legs, did a split, and brought them back up to twist position.

“That’s it,” Tommy said. “That’s what you gotta show ’em. They eat that Fred Astaire shit up.”

“The Puerto Rican has to make his move now,” Michael said. “Or take the loss.”

“What happens if he swallows that toothpick?” John asked.

“We win,” Michael said.

Reuben made his move, but it was the wrong one.

With his end of the crowd clapping and cheering behind him, Reuben went down to a low position, laid his hands flat on the ground, and tried a head-over flip. He made the flip, an impressive head-past-shoulder acrobatic move, but the soles of his shoes slipped when he landed back on his feet. He slid to the ground and fell onto his rear, toothpick still in his mouth.

I stopped dancing, walked over to Reuben, reached out my hand, and helped him to his feet.

“Great move,” I said.

“I’ll get you next summer,” he said.

“You almost got me
this
summer,” I said, shaking his hand.

The crowd closed in on us, applauding, whistling, and shouting. Their screams and chants grew even louder when the disc jockey slapped a $50 bill in my palm and raised my hand in victory.

“We’re rich!” Tommy shouted, rashing toward me with John, Michael, and Carol fast behind. “We’re rich!”

“We can live for a month,” John said. “Pizza. Comic books. Italian ices. The town’s ours.”

“You were lucky,” Michael said to me with a smile. “It’s always better to be lucky.”

“Don’t expect another kiss,” Carol said.

“I’m too tired to kiss anybody,” I said. “I’m too tired to even walk.”

“You don’t have to walk,” Tommy said. “You’re the champ. We’ll drive you.”

He grabbed one of my legs, and John and Michael grabbed the other, hoisting me on their shoulders, the crowd behind me still chanting their support.

They carried me through the gym, carefully lowering me past the black exit doors and out onto the street.

“Where we goin’?” I asked, tilting my head back, letting the warm evening breeze cool my face.

“Anyplace,” Michael said. “Do anything we want.”

“We got the time,” John said. “And we finally got the money.”

“We can go anywhere,” Tommy said. “There’s nothin’ can stop us.”

We were under a streedight on the corner of West 50th Street and Tenth Avenue. John, Tommy, and Michael holding me on their shoulders. Carol next to them, a smile on her face, slowly dancing around a garbage can.

The night and the streets were ours and the future lay sparkling ahead.

And we thought we would know each other forever.

A Ballantine Book
Published by The Random House Publishing Group
Copyright © 1995 by Lorenzo Carcaterra

All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. Published in the United States by Ballantine Books, an imprint of The Random House Publishing Group, a division of Random House, Inc., New York, and simultaneously in Canada by Random House of Canada Limited, Toronto.

Ballantine and colophon are registered trademarks of Random House, Inc.

Grateful acknowledgment is made to PolyGram Music Publishing for permission to reprint an excerpt from the lyrics of “TAKE IT WHERE YOU FIND IT,” written by Van Morrison. Copyright © 1978 Essential Music. Used by permission. All rights reserved.

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Library of Congress Catalog Card Number: 95-95088

eISBN: 978-0-307-75665-7

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