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below were so enraptured with what they were doing that they were safe from being found out. However, it made for a very uncomfortable hour of waiting for the people to leave.
         Once away from the warehouse building, Cranford stopped dead in his tracks and with one good punch, sent Frank to the ground. As Frank rubbed the spot where the other man’s fist made contact with his jaw, he supposed it was time to have a sincere talk with his partner.
    “I am going to get up now Cranford, but I will not fight you.”
    “If you letting my age stop you, don’t! I am going to whip your black self all over this street! We could have saved that boy! Why didn’t we save that boy?  Tell me one good reason you would not help me save him! Just one!”
         His nostrils flared with the hardcore rage he was feeling. He stood over his partner wanting to hit him again and begging him to get up, so that he could.
         Frank felt sorry for Cranford and was sorry he had to witness what he had. It was not easy for him either, but now was not the time for self-pity.
    “Fine, I will explain, but first put away your boxing gloves or I swear I am going to sit here all night, man!”
         Cranford hesitated before turning and walking away, leaving Frank to pick himself up exclaiming,
    “Let’s get out of here. This part of town gives me the creeps!”
         Cranford grunted without looking at him. 
    “After what we just witnessed, even more so. You have seen this stuff before. I can tell. Why didn’t you warn me?”
       Frank flagged down a cab and gave him his own address.
    “I think we deserve something to settle our nerves and I have just the thing at my place. We can talk freely there.”
       Cranford looked at him in an odd way. There was something about his behavior during this whole thing. He certainly had not acted like a rookie. He was sure he had experienced this type of sacrifice before.
       When he expected to get to the apartment and offered a beer or even something stronger, what did he do? He took him to where a bar was evidently his kitchen table and sat him down, while he made a large pot of hot tea. After pouring them both an oversized cup, he too sat down on the other side of the bar, so that he was facing him.
       Cranford’s eyes narrowed suspiciously, as his gut told him something was out of context with his young partner. There was complete silence while they sipped on the hot tea. Somewhere in the small apartment, he could hear a clock ticking. Looking around at the humble surroundings, he certainly could not accuse Frank of living above his means.
       The place was unusually tidy for a young man, the furnishings sparse and simple. The only thing that Cranford could see that made a personal statement was the books scattered across the coffee table, He could see because the kitchen opened up to the small living area. Instead of a sofa, there was a recliner and two other mismatched chairs gracing the room.
       Cranford began feeling much calmer and wondered if it was the tea. It was surprisingly good. Frank told him that it was a special blend he kept for times just like this and with him it was often, for this was not his first time ‘out the gate’.
    “Okay, so I believe you were going to explain to me why we let that kid die back there, instead of trying to save him.”
       Frank sat his cup down and stood.
    “First, let me warm your tea.”
    “No need, I have plenty and it does not need warming, but thank you.”
    “Well, let me warm mine.”
       When he had added to his cup of tea, he remained standing.
    “Promise me you are going to hold your judgment, at least until I finish the whole story.”
    “Alright, but you are not standing over me like this. Sit down!”
    “Yes, sir…”
       He took his seat at the same time sucking in his breath and let it out slowly as he explained.
    “I am a lie. Everything you know about me is a lie. The file you got on me is all