But it didn’t end with running or dropping the goddamn knife that was clean. I went back to him. Maybe just to touch him, but he wasn’t there. Only a chalk outline of his body bent like a leaf. Round and scraggly. The police found me and brought me here to face the others. And when we was left alone, like there was a goddamn signal I didn’t read, they was all on me, doing an Irish jig on my head. Shit. Just ’cause I signed for myself and told what had happened. just ’cause my knife dropped clean to the ground, just ’cause I heard them leaves falling and they sounded like lips calling my name, saying, “Lonny, Lonny,” and saying, “I never touched you, man. Never.” And when I told the doctor about it, he said they’d stop talking like that. And them leaves did stop talking like that for the split second before Maxie’s fist found my jaw and Cuddles squeezed at my throat. Moms in night court was squeezing, too. And Moms in the visitors’ gallery was yelling all out of her head and mine in the same scratchy voice, “He ain’t never had a chance, Christ Jesus.” Which was a lie. I had my chance. Better than that, I took my chance, Moms, and I’m gonna tell everybody about it. You all hear me out there? “Shit. I took my chance. I’m self-employed.”