The guy ignored him, so Thomas said his name louder.

This time, Vic stopped and turned. The face and body language seemed to say that it was time. It was time for someone to get hurt.

“I got something for you,” Thomas said.

Then he walked over and handed Vic the Nikes he’d been carrying. Vic didn’t take them, so Thomas shoved them into his chest.

“These are yours.”

Vic glanced at them. Surely he knew that they were the latest and greatest basketball shoe Nike made. Even if he couldn’t afford them, it didn’t mean he wouldn’t have looked in the window or seen the ads on television.

“Is this one of those presents someone put in your locker?”

Thomas had rehearsed this several times, but he could taste the fear racing through him.

“Look—this is the way I see it,” he said. “If we’re ever going to be teammates, then one of us has to make a peace offering. And I figure it might as well be me.”

There was a genuine look of confusion on Vic’s face.

“Take them. I was hoping—I was planning to get them to you before Christmas. But a few days later is okay, right?”

“You’re seriously giving these to me?”

“Yes.”

“What? Are they stolen?”

Thomas laughed. “No. The receipt is there in case you don’t wear elevens.”

Vic looked around, then stared at the shoes. “What’s the catch?”

“No catch. Except that maybe you don’t have to act like you want to pound my face every time you see me.”

“So you’re paying me off?”

“No. That’s just—well, you can use them, right?”

Vic glanced down at his shoes and seemed to get it.

“I remember your shoes not looking too hot either.”

Thomas wasn’t wearing his basketball shoes, neither the old ones nor the new.

“Someone gave me some new ones.”

“I’m not some charity case,” Vic said.

“Charity?” Thomas asked, laughing. “I want to make sure you can keep up with me.”

Then Thomas nodded and left.

Part of him wondered whether Vic was going to throw the shoes at his back or perhaps toss them into a bonfire.

Who knew if this would change anything? But Thomas wanted to believe that it could and would.

A Piece

The gift waited for him like a child on the porch. He could see it as he climbed off the bike and walked slowly toward it. He paused for a second, then continued. The afternoon’s glare caused him to squint. He wiped his hands on dirty jeans as he took the familiar steps and then stood before the package.

Sometimes a man reached a point in life where there were no surprises.

If there was such a place, it was right here. It was a dusty dead end, another drained beer can, an empty pack of smokes, a barren shell that echoed all the might-haves and could-have-beens.

He opened the gift carefully. It’d been some time since he’d gotten a gift. It had his name on it but it still felt like some joke, like the boys back at the plant were pulling his leg, like the guys at Larry’s were playing a trick. His dirty fingers picked and pulled off the gift wrap. It took a good few minutes to finally open it up and see what was inside.