Years of street fighting, of instant feline reflexes to sudden assault helped Tony bounce to his feet. His hands, formed into hard fists to throw at his target, were never launched, for he saw that Bernardo had turned away from him to look down at the girl on the bench.

He saw the destruction of their magic land. Of course, he had seen the girl come in with Bernardo. The girl in the white dress, whose name he did not even know, was Bernardo’s sister. Tony was overwhelmed and terrified that he might lose the most wonderful thing he had ever found.

“Go home, American,” Bernardo spat at him.

“Slow down, Bernardo,” Tony said, and moved his right hand to assure the girl that everything was all right, that she could depend upon him not to fight.

Bernardo’s lips twitched. “Stay away from my sister!” He turned to Maria. “Couldn’t you see he was one of them?”

“No,” she replied. “I saw only him, and he’s done nothing wrong.”

Snapping his fingers to gather the Sharks around him, Bernardo saw Chino moving rapidly across the dance floor. “I told you,” he accused Maria, “there’s only one thing they want from a Puerto Rican girl!”

“You’re lying in your throat,” Tony said.

“Cool, boy,” Riff approved, as he got to Tony’s side. “You tell him.”

Chino tapped Bernardo’s shoulder and moved past him to confront Tony. Very pale, but quiet, so that he did not look frightened, Chino measured the tall American. “Get away,” he said. “Leave her alone.”

“Keep out of this, Chino,” Tony advised him, then turned away abruptly, fearful that Maria was going to leave.

Bernardo clamped his fingers around Maria’s wrist to pull her behind him. “Now let me tell you…”

“… tell me!” Riff pushed forward. “If you characters want to settle this right here outside…”

Murray Benowitz knew that he was shouting, but he had to get their attention. “Fellows, please! Everything was going so well. Do you fellows get pleasure out of making trouble? Come on now, it won’t hurt you to have a good time.” With upward gestures of his right hand, he signaled frantically for the music to start again. “Everybody dance,” he suggested. “Do it for me.”

Still holding his sister’s wrist, Bernardo dragged her to the side of the floor which had been taken over by the Sharks. He had to jam his free hand into a pocket to keep from striking his sister.

Never before had he felt so betrayed. It was as if a knife had been planted firmly in his back by someone he trusted and loved, and for whom had she done this thing? For some goddamn Polack who had beaten up as many of her own as any American on the West Side.

“We never should have sent for you,” he raged at her, still holding on to her wrist. “I warned you to stay away from them. What’s the matter, you don’t understand Spanish any more?”