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The Kings of Norwood

Kashif Andrew Graham
And we were dancers. Squeaking, squeaking. Our fresh white Harlems made their own
music. Ronnie and I were the Kings of Kingsbridge, the Nordics of Norwood. As we stepped,
left, right, left to right, the world was ours.
The summer sun was cool, but was hot enough to excuse our childish desires for summer
sweets. As we moonwalked down the street to shouts of "Hey!" and "Watch it!" (We were
walking backwards), a fateful tune echoed about the place.
"Ronnie, you want some ice cream?"
"Yeah, but I don't got no money."
"Don't worry. I got you, man."
I, the hero, felt around in my own lint-filled pockets. A dollar and some change. Only
enough for a York Peppermint Pattie ice cream.
"Never mind, I only got a dollar."
"That's okay, you can just get one for yourself."
"Nah man, 'cuz then what would you have?"
"I'll be iight"
I looked at his face. He was looking down at the wide and pebbled sidewalk, as we were
now walking. He would not be alright if I sunk my chompers into an ice cream while he just
looked on. I decided.
"Alright man. I got an idea."
"Nah, I don't wanna split it man, it's okay."
"Well, I was thinkin' of a way to get both of us an ice cream"
"What kind?"
"King Cones."
"Nah, D, it's really okay man. Besides tonight is Tostados night. My Mom always throws
in an ice cream sundae afterwards for desert."
"Yeah, but that's like 4 hours from now."
"So?"
"So, c'mon man. Follow my lead."
And we were off. Squeaking down the street to A&D's. He did not know where we were
going, but was my faithful follower. I remember once when we were kids, he and I were playing
in his basement. I jumped in the washing machine and started spinning around and around and
around. He stood there laughing at me as I got dizzy.
"C'mon, give it a spin, Ron!" the world shook in front of me.
He looked upstairs for a moment where his mother lay on the couch, recovering from a
headache like a Medieval princess with the back of her hand on her forehead. He could feel her
ears turning in our direction.
"Yo man, this is fun!" He blocked his mother's face out and jumped in, just as I jumped
out.
2 minutes past. Beat. Laugh. Beat. Laugh. CLAP! CLAP! CLAP! His mother's
slippers beating over towards the basement stairs. "Ronnie! Whatcu guys doin' down there?"
Silence. He: "Nothing..."

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I made a face like, "C'mon, man, you never say you're doing nothing!". Unfortunately, the
words had already left his lying mouth. She came down the stairs in a fury, not giving him
enough time to exit the washing machine. CLAP! CLAP! CLAP! Came her slippers down the
stairs. Came her hands on his face. She dragged him out of the washing machine in a fury.
"Don't you ever! Ever! EVER! let me catch you back in this washing machine! Do you
hea me?" And she issued him two more whacks on his back. She looked with hopeless eyes at
me, that said, "Ever since his father died", but she said to him, "Why can't you behave a littwe
more like Devik?"
And she ordered him upstairs. "Derek, you're gonna have to leave now, honey. I'll give
you a ride home." She dropped me home in that rusted gray Winnebaego. The pattern on
the cloth seats made me nauseous. Purple, red, pink, and white. And green. Just like the shorts I
was wearing that day.
"This is it." I stopped her. She pulled up to a gray house with peeling white boarders that
was my own. I was tempted to ask her to drop me at the tip of the block, where every other house
seemed to be occupied by the Joneses. Or the Hernandezes (not Errnandezes), Or the Ramirezes.
But we were the Valiquez family. So unamericanized. So unheard of. So not properly here.
Those same words left my mouth as Ronnie and I arrived at my ideal location. "This is it.
Wait right here."
He still said, "Derek..." as I pushed the door of the corner store open. The top part of the
door was glass, and the bottom was a gigantic metal pane. I could not see over the metal.
I gently pushed the door open, which thankfully, no one was behind. The cold food
section was right in sight. I could see the milk, butter, and eggs ahead of me, like gems on ice. I
tried to make my steps calm, putting my hands in my pockets. I thought I was going to throw up
all over my new white Jordan's tee.
I approached the judge's bench, looking sky high. But there was no ice cream. All I could
see were the products Moms buy that don't mean anything until they are cooked.
'Ey! Whea y'all got da ice cream at?" And without looking at her, I knew what she
looked like. Nails, loud, headphones, loud, voice, loud. She was my key. Within minutes, a
nailed hand, Goosebumps green, had pushed back a glass door right in front of my face,
revealing a chest of ice cream. She stuck her hand in, pulling out two precious King Cones. She
held the glass door open for me.
"Ga 'head."
"Th-th-thanks."
I looked down into the frozen haven. There were boxes and boxes of ice cream,
Snickers...basically, if it existed, it was there. My eyes kept scanning, "Let's go, I don't got all
day!", until I saw an empty box with a King Cone on it. An empty box with a King...HEY! She
took the last two! But what was I to do? Bite the hand that had just fed me?
SLAM! Jingling of doorbells. "Vonetta! Whatcu think this is? How long it take to get a
ice cream sandwich?"
I turned to see a floppy dude, very angry, very loud, walking in--being mystified by the
wind chimes on the door behind him. SLAM! Goosebumps let go of the glass door on my hand!
"AY!" I called to no one.
"A ice cream sandwich? I thought you wan'ed a King Cone! Huuuh!"
"Yo' drop those an' lez go. I doubled parked to come in here an get you. If I get a ticket
you payin' it, word to me, son. An iz gonna cost more den two ice creams."

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And he pushed his weight against the door--gone. "He think I'm scared a him. OH!" My
hand was still in the cove. "I'm so sorry shweetie!" And she pushed the glass door open, releasing
my hand, and also releasing the ice creams like the claw in those toy machines at the Playland.
She exchanged her evil for good and was gone.
The King Cones didn't rest for a moment in their throne before I retrieved them. I let the
cold cellophane warm against my fingers. Gold nuggets they were. Stolen nuggets. And then I
saw sirens--and juvi and I couldn't do it.
But then I began to think of Ron, and his not having a father. I thought of him eating a
King Cone with me now, his good ol' pal, versus his drab apartment with his mom. And then I
had to do it. I could see his smiling face. I could hear him, "Man, D, I don't know how you do it".
I could feel the warm glow on my cheeks as the praises flowed over.
My grip tightened on the prizes. My stomach was a melon. My heart was a base drum. I
thought it would spew out of my mouth and onto the floor--a bloody mess. I was just about ready
to stuff item number one into my pocket. I had discovered over time that if you pushed it in
quickly it was much like ripping a band-aid off. Less noise. Less attraction than holding it at your
side and slipping, slipping, slipping it in. But at the first move of my hand, I could feel the hot
eyes burning through my shoulders. I pretended to peruse the selection, looking over the calories,
and oh my! Much too much sugar in this one! and this has way too much high fructose corn
syrup and red-40 to be good for my kids. I'll pass until the hot eyes became less concentrated and
less sure of what they saw. Until angel wings protruded from the back of my shirt, and a golden
halo appeared roundabout my head. And...
SLAM! Violent ringing of wind chimes: "DVD'S FA SALE! DVD'S FA SALE! Get the
latest and the greatest, all right here at TOOOONNNAYY'S walkin' entertainment shop!" This
was it. Now or never. Now or never. Now. And STUFF! STUFF! into my pockets, the two
nuggets of gold. I proceeded to walk slowly--I just knew I wasn't going to get away with this.
The two cones were poking devil's horns out of my pockets. And my onion red face wasn't
making the matter any better either. I found my feet fast walking--guilty walking--as I
passed Tony the Entertainer being shooed away. Back! Back! And me out...out...I was just to the
door when Goosebumps ran back in.
"Y'all sold them King Cones yet?"
The cashier shook his head no, pointing to the glowing display case. She ran back over-her angry honking man outside. She slid the display case open, looking around. I was right at the
door.
"I don't see 'em!" She turned and put her hand on her hip. Her eyes opened wide as she
saw my back go out the door.
I could hear the skittering sneakers, like a basketball court, of the store owners as she
screamed and pointed--the Queen of Hearts: "Yo, dat litule thief!"
Ronnie was bewildered, like a giant dump truck was coming towards him with all of the force in
the world.
"GOOO!!!" I yelled, my evil poking out of my pockets.
Ronnie wasted no time, as the store owners burst out of the bodega like
fireworks. Ronnie was crying, and looked back at the bloodthirsty devils behind us. I felt a piece
of goosepoop underneath my Harlems. I looked down. I looked up.
"RONALD!". In the street. Green light. Grey Buick. Old man.

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BAM!...
We all stopped running. They, the fathers of sons, behind me.
Sirens.
__________________
His hand was cold. Limp. Like he'd been holding a melted ice bag. He looked straight head.
Eyes wide open. Unhere.
"Ronnie, it's me. D."
I sat down on the bed next to him. I put my arm around him and nudged him a little.
"Ronnie, it's me, Derek!"
Onward. Forward. Like I wasn't here. His skin was Mom's nixtamal tortillas. Around his
eyes were black olive rings.
Silence. "Derek, you should go now, honey".
I looked up at his mother. Her eyes were crusted honey--she had no pupils. She ran her
hand over his head in a cold machine-like movement. I stood there, waiting.
Mom stepped in, "Derek, veng."
I looked up at her cold coffee brown eyes. They once tasted of French vanilla. She looked
at Ronnie like he a broken toy. It was at that moment that I understood. There was no going back,
no more danceladas. As I rose from the hospital bed, warm tears blurred my eyes. I could not see.
Mom stepped forward and pulled me away. She wrapped me under her wing, leaving the two
there.
And that, that was the last time I ever saw Ronnie.