Chapter Thirty-Eight

Here’s the next Chapter of Lost and Found.

Okay, fight fans — today’s Chapter is the one you’ve been waiting for.

I don’t have much about life today to report, so let’s get to the action.

As always, I love to hear your comments and truly appreciate your hanging in with me in this project. There is still much more to tell about this stage of my life, so I hope you’ll stay tuned.

Be well — be in peace,

Ron Rink
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The John Marshall grade school was across State Fair Road from the Sugar Bowl. We all walked across the street and down the side street beside the school and into the playground area behind the school. The entire playground was fenced in. There was an entrance at the back of the school. Just beyond the back entrance was a large alcove that was used mostly for storing trash containers. There were no windows on the building inside that area, and neighborhood kids would go back there and play handball against the walls. With the exception of the opening to the alcove, the interior area was enclosed by three solid walls two stories high. This area couldn’t be seen from the street and was dark at night. That’s where Bob Morton led me. The rest of the gang followed along.

Once we were inside the alcove, the gang members formed a circle around Bob Morton and me. It was possible to see quite well once our eyes got accustomed to the dark. The gang soon stopped their chatter and became very quiet.

“Okay, Van Buren,” Morton said, “Let’s do this. Cross, get over here. You go first.”

Strangely, I realized my nervousness had vanished. My legs weren’t shaking any more and I felt relaxed and confident. I took my hands out of my pockets and thought about the visualizations I had earlier at the bowling alley. I could feel my shoulders and arms relaxing and the circle of gang members seem to fade into a blur.

Morton stepped back into the circle while the first guy who called me a punk kid when we were in the Sugar Bowl took off his SFD jacket and stepped into the center of the circle. This was Crazy Jimmy. He wasn’t much taller than I was and he was quite skinny. He had wild red hair and his eyes seemed to be dancing around in his head—he seemed to be looking everywhere except at me. He had on a white tee shirt with a cigarette pack rolled up in one sleeve. The other sleeve was also rolled up to his shoulder. He had on black peg pants and stomper shoes. He put his fists up in a boxing pose and began to dance from one foot to the other. He started mumbling something in a singsong pattern I couldn’t hear. His eyes were still looking everywhere but at me.

Suddenly I dove at him, got my left arm across his skinny chest, swung my right leg behind his legs and threw all my weight against his chest. He went right down on his back. However, my momentum was so great he was able to grab my arm and pull me down on top of him. While he held onto my arm with one hand, he started hitting me hard on the side of my face with his other hand. That hurt.

The next thought I had was what Billy had taught me — you couldn’t win fights rolling around on the ground.

I realized that my left leg was between Jimmy’s legs, so just as he was getting ready to hit me again, I used my free arm and pushed up against his chest, kicked up quickly with my left knee and got him hard in his crotch. He let out a yell, let go of my arm and reached for his crotch. I jumped up and while he was still on the ground, aimed a kick at his head.

Bob Morton had come up behind me while we were fighting. He reached out, grabbed me around the chest from behind, pulled me away and said, “That’s it. Good fight, both of you.”

Crazy Jimmy Cross jumped up and started toward me with his fists closed. He reached back with his arm to throw a punch when Morton jumped between us and yelled, “Back off, Cross. The fight’s over. Get back in the circle.”

Cross looked at me with a sneer on his face and asked, “What’s your name, kid?”

“Van Buren,” I answered.

Cross nodded his head, turned and walked back into the circle between one of the guys and Bobby. He whispered something in the guy’s ear. Then he turned to Bobby, whispered to him, grinned and elbowed Bobby in the ribs.

Bobby looked at him, then looked over at me, nodded and grinned back at Cross.

Morton looked at me and asked, “You ready, Van Buren?”

I nodded.

Morton said, “Let’s go Bobby.”

After seeing the quick interchange between Cross, Bobby and the other guy, I was expecting something to happen fast, but I didn’t know what.

Bobby started moving to his left around the inside of the circle of gang members. I kept turning so I could stay focused straight on to him. As I was watching Bobby’s face, someone behind me stuck their foot in between my legs. Just as I felt the person’s hand in the small of my back pushing me forward and tripping me at the same time, Bobby was diving in with his hand in a claw shape reaching to grab my crotch.

The person behind me had pushed me just hard enough that I started to fall forward. I got my feet untangled so I wouldn’t trip and let my momentum carry far enough to Bobby’s side so I could avoid his clutching hand. I felt his hand slip off my thigh as I stuck my elbow out and caught him hard on his chin and mouth. Both of Bobby’s hands went up to his face. I felt like I was flying as I drove my shoulder into Bobby’s chest and pushed him backwards as hard as I could. He had clasped his hands together into a large ball of fist and brought them down onto the back of my neck. I saw stars in my eyes but I kept driving forward hoping to get him off balance. The circle broke apart as I kept driving forward with my shoulder while Bobby was backpedaling and pounding away at the back of my neck. I dropped my other hand and started beating on his kidneys. I kept trying to butt my head against Bobby’s chin, but he kept me from doing so with his pummeling on my head and neck. We slammed into the wall of the building and I could hear the breath fly out of Bobby’s lungs.

Just as I felt the blows to my head weaken a bit, Morton yelled, “Okay. Stop!”

He was running towards us to break us apart. I kept banging away at Bobby’s kidneys as I managed to get in one good head-butt before Morton got between us, and pulled me away. I felt the sweat running off my face and felt tears running out of my eyes. I knew I wasn’t crying. What I didn’t know was what had happened.

The place where I was—the zone I was in—began to leave me and reality came roaring back like a freight train going full speed. My hands were shaking, my heart was pumping so hard I could hear it inside my head and feel it inside my chest. It sounded like someone was pounding a drum inside my body. My knees were shaking so bad I worried that I might not be able to keep standing. I watched as Bobby stood rubbing his back, wiping blood off his mouth and chin, while nodding his head at me. He wasn’t smiling, but I could see there was no bitterness in his eyes. There was what looked like a hint of approval in them.

Morton put his arm over my shoulders again and said to the gang, “Okay. Van Buren here is now a member of the Dukes. That means he’s one of us. He gets the same protection as the rest of us. Anybody has a problem with that has to talk to me about it, okay?”

I watched as a few heads nodded. As the gang started to move away from the area, Morton added, “Cross, you and Bobby hang around for a minute. Billy, you too.”

I watched as the other gang members started to screw around as they left, laughing and throwing fake punches at each other. There was plenty of conversation going on but I couldn’t make out what they were saying. Cross and Bobby were standing together and whispering. Billy came walking up and pretended to throw a punch at my stomach. I jerked my stomach away and looked at him. A look passed between us that told me he was feeling good about his protégé. He didn’t smile or say anything, but I knew he approved.

Morton still had his arm over my shoulders and called out to the other guys, “C’mere you guys.”

Cross and Bobby came over and stood across from Billy, Morton and me.

“Do either of you guys have any plans on jumping your new brother, Van Buren?” he asked with a voice that I found to be frightening, even though he was speaking quietly. “You seem to be a little pissed off, Cross. You got any plans like that, Jimmy?”

Bobby shook his head and looked at me without any animosity. However, I could see the tension in Cross’s face and shoulders. He looked at Morton, then at me. I may never know what went through his mind right then, it might have been fear of Bob Morton—it might have been being resolved to my being in the gang, but slowly his face relaxed and his shoulders seemed to sag down.

“No, man,” he said, looking right at me. “I was pissed because you got me so fast and you’re just a kid. But you’re a good fighter. I still think I could take you, but you’re in the gang, so I won’t mess with you.”

I nodded at him.

Cross reached his hand over to where his t-shirt was rolled up with the cigarette pack in it, took out the pack, shook it so that a couple of the cigarettes popped out, and held the pack out to me.

I took one, and as he took one out for himself, I reached into my pocket for some matches, lit the match, and then cupped the flame as Cross leaned forward to light his cigarette.

Morton watched this with a sharp eye and said, “Okay, let’s go back to the Bowl.”
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