Read Online The Warriors by Sol Yurick - Free Book Online

was to get down the hill, over the fence, across the street, across that highway and river, up that long lawn, through the barrier of apartment houses, onto the subway, and go home. That was one way of doing it. The other way was to phone their Youth Board Worker, Wallie, tell him they were in trouble, have him come up and get them in his car. Then, Hector told them, since that square, Wallie, was trying to get in good with the Dominators, he would think, ah, at last the time had come to do the Family a favor. They knew different, of course, because Wallie was an Other, so they might as well use him. They agreed with that. They would go down, near the subway, and call the joker and have him come. If he didn’t come, they would take the train and make it home. They weren’t sure where they were; they weren’t sure where the train went; downtown and uptown; that was enough to know. The Junior was getting nervous about their hanging around here and tried to rush them to finish their cigarettes.
    Lunkface asked who had Power? Who was packed? No one. Father Arnold had the .22 pistol-token to give to Ismael, but by now Arnold was probably in the paddy wagon. No one had come loaded because they had obeyed the truce instructions to the letter. It made the distance seem longer now; how could they go through all that territory without being equipped for any action? And what if the Youth Board square didn’t come; what then? Hinton asked why they couldn’t stay here just a little longer? They ignored him.
    â€œMan, did you see that Ismael? He’s not so big now. Choom. Right through the eye,” Lunkface said.
    Hector said, “Ismael was a big man and he had the big idea.” He bowed his head in tribute.
    Lunkface didn’t think so; the idea wasn’t so much; it was even obvious.
    â€œWe shouldn’t desert. Arnold might come,” Hinton insisted.
    â€œMan, even if he got away, how’s he going to know where we’re at?” Hector asked. “Use the head.” And then he said for them to get out their pins. They would wear signs; they were moving out as The Family.
    Hinton asked if it was wise to walk around the city looking identified and for all the world to know who they were and what they were.
    Hector got angry and said that they moved as a Family and that meant wearing their signs, or not at all. Hector thought it was just something Hinton might have said. Hinton was still new; in the neighborhood a short time; in the gang only about eight months. He looked at Hinton in the shadows: Hinton’s face was cool enough, his head resting against the stone, looking almost bored by the whole thing, his eyes closed, his fingers making doodling motions on the marble. Well, it was probably just that Hinton didn’t have enough sense of tradition and Family, Hector thought. He would get it in time. Lunkface said that if Hinton was chicken, he might stay here for the night and let some other gangs or the fuzz catch him, or, for that matter, the rats might mistake him for one of the corpses and finish him off. Hector told Lunkface that counsel should not be mistaken for cowardice and not to sound his younger brother that way, unless Lunkface wanted to deal with him. Lunkface said that this son was sorry, but there was an edge of mock in it. Hector accepted it as a complete apology to avoid trouble now.
    Hinton said that it wasn’t a matter of funk, but that they, the Other, would all know them.
    â€œYou’re not that famous, son. You are not The Ismael, man.”
    â€œBut we got the marks of a gang . . .”
    â€œHow will they know what gang we are?”
    â€œThat’s not the point, man. They’re after all the gangs around this territory. After what they saw, they will pick you up ifyou’re between fourteen and twenty and look wrong. And tonight, everyone looks wrong.”
    Hector said that they would wear the signs, and anyone who wouldn’t,