“Hey, there’s no need to get an attitude. I just wanted to ask you a few questions.”

“Did you hear what I said?”

“Yeah, I heard you, but—” It was a slap, snapping Otis’ head around to the limit and sending him crashing into a table. I looked at Otis: We had both aspired to the same fantasies about being bad, but the humiliation twitching in his face was the reason I never had the courage of mine. The other dude’s face looked bone hard and leather tough from living in the saddle of do or die. He had sized up Otis and knew what he was capable of.

“You said style was character, didn’t you, home? Well, let’s see some.”

“Please, let’s not have any trouble,” the waitress pleaded.

“Don’t worry, Mama, there ain’t gonna be no trouble. Ask him… How much do I owe you? You’re very greasy, my man, but you got a long way to slide before you get to be as slick as me,” he said on his way out.

“Forget it, Otis,” I said, but he burned out of Wells’ like a flame sucking quickly down a fuse to a stick of dynamite. I ran after him as he moved his arms in a way that resembled the language of mutes. His legs slid at angles as if he was doing the Twist in slow motion. The other man stood at the corner rearing back on his heels, coattail flung back, his right arm cocked on his hip.

Propelling himself toward the other man, sucking in air as he moved, Otis slammed into him and they stuck together. Then the dude stepped away and disappeared around the corner. Otis tottered and fell backward in a heap on the pavement. The flash of something metallic protruded from his stomach like a grave marker. I kneeled over him, watching his contorted face struggle to shape sounds that wouldn’t come out. His body writhed around the knife stuck in his belly. I reached for it, but my hand became spastic as my eyes fastened on the blood spreading like shade through his shirt till it hugged him skintight.

I pushed a path through the gathering crowd of people.

“Hey, where you going, man?”

“He’s not the one that did it.”

“What happened?”

“Some dude shanked the cat.”

“He split around the corner.”

“Anybody call the police?”

“Yeah.”

“Somebody ought to call an ambulance.”

“He’ll bleed to death before they get here.”

“Crazy muthafucka got what his hand called for. Didn’t have no business comin at that dude the way he did.”

“Aw, man, the dude slapped him. What would you done?”

“I sure wouldn’t have let the dude know what I was going to do!”

“Yeah, he should a snuck him.”

Moving beyond the range of voices, I found myself in the midst of a group of kids.

“You should a seen it.”

“Yeah, it was cool, man.”

“What happened?”

“Somebody got stabbed trying to do some kung fu.”