As if reading his mind, they both stopped laughing. Suddenly the air stank with fear. Stony looked at his two antagonizes. They were studying their laps, faces brittle. He didn't understand what had just happened. All he knew was that he felt deep shame, and his anger U-turned onto himself. He plunked down a folding chair in front of them.

"What's your names anyways?" He addressed them both.

"Tyrone," the fat one answered sulkily.

"Derek," the small one pouted.

"Yeah, well, my name is Bruce Shaft," he said.

Tyrone smirked.

"No, it ain't," said Derek. He began rolling himself back and forth in place, his hands on the rims of the large spoked wheels. "O.K., you want to know what my real name is?"

"I know your name." Tyrone squinted as he read the tag on Stony's chest pocket. "T. De-Co-Co." He screwed up his face with the strangeness of the sound.

"Hey"—Stony raised a finger—"you know what that means in Italian? T. De Coco in Italian means 'Enter The Dragon.' " He nodded his head seriously.

"Aw, man," Derek dismissed Stony with a wave of his hand.

"You don't believe me?" Stony challenged. "You know what my brother's name is?"

"My brother's name is Martell," Tyrone said. "He's in the marines."

"Oh yeah?" Stony was impressed.

"Yeah, he could kick your ass."

Stony ignored the last comment. "Derek, you got a brother?"

"Got a sister, she's twenny ... two I think."

"Yeah, an' she got nice titties," Tyrone giggled.

Derek leaned over and punched Tyrone on the arm. "You shut yo' face, motherfucker, or I shut it for you." Derek pointed a finger at Tyrone, staring at him with all the menace he could muster.

Tyrone sucked air through his teeth as he rubbed his arm. "He hit hard for a little mouse," he complained to Stony.

Derek let loose with another shot in the same spot.

"Cut it out!" Tyrone bawled. Stony was up and between the wheelchairs in an instant. He didn't know what to do. The feel of the cold metal of the armrests made him dizzy.

"Hey, you guys, whynchoo be cool?"

"Then you tell Fat Albert not to call me a mouse!"

"See? See?" Tyrone whined in protest.

"Well, you are, you fat motherfucker." Derek raised his eyebrows and leaned around Stony to see Tyrone.

"Hey look ... look." Stony raised his hands like a referee. "You guys wanna hear a story?"

Tyrone winced, rubbing his arm.

"I don' wanna hear no fuckin' story." Derek propped his elbow on the arm of the wheelchair and rested his chin on the heel of his palm, staring away from Stony and Tyrone.

"C'mon, you guys, it's a really good story."

"Is it 'bout kung fu?" Tyrone asked.

"Nah, it's about Indians."

Suddenly Derek whipped around furiously in his chair. "An' you tell that motherfucker to lay off mah sister!" There were tears on his cheeks. He bit his lip in an effort to stop his chin from quivering. Tyrone got frightened by Derek's teary display. So did Stony. Stony sighed. "O.K., Tyrone, whynchoo apologize to him."