Lost and Found – a Novel by Ron Rink

Here’s the next Chapter of my Memoir/Novel, Lost and Found.

This has been a weird week around here. No matter how much I wanted to, I couldn’t seem to get away from drama. Nothing I can share here — I just had to say it. But, after I finish posting this Chapter, I think I’ll go work on my Buddhist Blog to get me into a better frame of mind. It usually works, especially if I meditate first for at least a half-hour.

Hope you enjoy this Chapter.

Be well — be in peace,

Ron Rink
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The Hazel Park School was set about two hundred feet back from the road. There were walkways leading up to the front doors of the school as well as two other sidewalks which angled off to the outer edges of the building. We took the walkway that led off to the right side of the building and saw how it led to a classroom wing which went back at a right angle to the front. When we reached the end of the wing we could see the playground in the back of the school. There was an identical wing on the other side which created an enclosure on one side of the playground. The only road was the one in front of the school. There were wooded areas along either side of the school beyond the wings and we could see lights on in some houses on the other side of the woods on either side. The playground went on for many yards behind the school and beyond the two wings. There were two lights on the back of the building, as well as two lights on each of the wings. They weren’t bright, but did give off enough light to be able to see.

Billy told Dolores and Sally to wait at the back of the building. He nudged me to follow him as we began walking along the edge of the woods on one side. “Keep your voice down because it will carry over to those houses, especially if someone is outside. We’re looking for the best escape route out of here if the cops show up during the rumble. Those houses aren’t far away and somebody might hear us and call the cops once the rumble gets started.”

We edged along the side of the woods and eventually came to a path which led off to the right. We followed it and it came out of the woods into a large vacant area between some of the houses. We ran directly across the street to another vacant lot and continued until we were two streets over from the schoolyard. The houses on that street were closer together and no more vacant areas were visible.

Billy turned, looked around and nodded his head. “This looks good. If we hear any cop sirens, we can run out this way and be two streets over before they can block us off. We can put our cars on this street. What do you think, Van Buren?”

I looked around in all directions and nodded my head.

“Okay, let’s head back,” Billy said as he turned and started trotting back toward the school.

When we got back to the schoolyard, Dolores and Sally were sitting on the ground next to the building wing. Billy went up to Dolores, smiled, took her by the hand and pulled her to her feet. He put his arm around her waist and walked with her to a dark, hidden alcove at the corner where the main building and the wing came together. Once they ducked into the alcove, they were no longer visible.

I slid down the wall and sat next to Sally. It was quiet except for some faint giggling coming from the alcove. I pulled out my pack of Lucky Strikes, shook it to pop up a few cigarettes and asked Sally if she wanted one. She nodded, smiled and took one. I pulled my matches out of my pocket, struck one and cupped the flame with my hands while I lit our cigarettes.

“Hey, how old are you, anyway?” I asked as I blew smoke into the air.

“Thirteen. How old are you?” she answered in a quiet voice.

“Twelve,” I lied. “Where do you live?”

“Over on Andover. How about you?”

“I live on Russell.”

She snickered, “That’s my last name—Russell.”

We were both sitting with our backs to the wall of the wing and had our knees up. I was sneaking glances over at Sally and saw she had her arms crossed over her knees with her head down on her arms. Occasionally, she would lift her head to take another drag off her cigarette.

“Have you been to any other rumbles?” I asked.

“Yeah, I was at one a few months ago. I didn’t like it,” she replied looking over at me.

I glanced over at her and noticed she didn’t look so mean and tough with her head resting on her arms. She looked soft and calm.

“How come?” I asked.

“It got too scary. I saw some of the guys whip out switchblades. There wasn’t supposed to be any knives.”

“Did anyone get cut?”

“Nah, I don’t think so.”

“Were you fighting too?” I asked.

“Nah, they made me stay back. I don’t want to go to this one, either,” Sally said as she straightened her legs out in front of her, put her head back against the building and blew smoke into the air.

“Yeah, but you have to go so we know which guys did this to you and your cousin.”

“I know, but now I wish I had just kept my big mouth shut. I was just so fucking mad I didn’t think. I wanted to get the bastards, but I didn’t want a rumble to happen.”

I was confused. The Sally I saw around the Sugar Bowl had always been someone ready to fight or argue at the drop of a hat. She seemed constantly pissed off at the world and angry with everyone. The Sally who sat next to me against the wall that night was different. She seemed calmer. Her voice was quiet—almost sweet sounding. I had never seen her laugh or smile around the Sugar Bowl, yet she had done both in the short time we had sat there. I had always seen her face as hard—the face of someone who was tough, bitter and looking for a fight. Yet, on that night I saw a pretty girl.

Sally looked over at me and smiled again. “Everybody always calls you Van, Van Buren. What’s your first name?”

“It’s Roland,” I answered as I looked at her and smiled back.

“Okay, Roland, where’d you learn to fight? When I heard this kid had beat Jimmy and Bobby, I almost shit. Nobody’s been able to beat those guys, except maybe Billy and Morton.”

“Billy taught me. We work at the bowling alley together.”

“So, why’d he want to teach you?”

“My old man beats me up, and I wanted to run away. So, Billy said I’d need to be able to take care of myself on the streets so he taught me to fight.”

“How long’s he been teaching you?”

“Since I was eight.”

“Did you run away?” Sally asked as she turned toward me, pulled her skirt over her knees and sat facing me, cross-legged. She stubbed her cigarette out on the ground, and with her elbow on her knee and her chin on her hand, looked at me. She looked interested in what I had to say.

“Yeah. I’ve been running away every summer since I was eight. But the cops keep catching me and making me go back home.”

Other than Joanne Gross, I had never sat and talked with a girl before. The girls in school that liked me because of the piano, never said more than “Hi, Roland” as they giggled their way past me in the halls. To make the talk with Sally even more unusual was the fact I had never talked about my running away to anyone other than Billy. Moreover, there I was, talking about it to a pretty girl I barely knew.

“Do you think you’ll ever run away for good?” She asked after a long silence.

“Yeah, I gotta. I’m smarter now about avoiding the cops, and I’m in the gang so I have protection on the streets.”

Sally looked at me, smiled again and nodded.

I took a last drag off my cigarette, snubbed it out in the ground and smiled back.

“Hey, where are you guys?” called Bob Morton as he came around the side of the school wing.

“We’re here,” I called out as Billy and Dolores came out of the alcove.

“Let’s go,” said Morton. “Did you guys work out an escape route?”

Billy and I told Morton our plan as we all walked around the building to his car. As we were riding back to the Sugar Bowl, I noticed that Billy had some new bruises on the side of his neck that he hadn’t had when he and Dolores went into the alcove. I had heard some of the guys talk about hickeys before, but that was the first time I ever saw one.

I wondered why people did that.
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My other blog about Buddhism

http://www.buddhistbelief.com
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It must be the middle of the week, because here’s the next Chapter of Lost and Found.

I just want to say “Thank You” again to all the folks who are taking the time to read this memoir/novel. I can’t tell you how much it means to me to know there are people out there who are among the first people to read about this early life of mine. You are keeping me writing — something I would not have gone back to if not for you. You’re my motivation to keep going on this until it’s finished. Thank you so much.

Be well — be in Peace,

Ron Rink
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It would be a few more weeks before school let out for the summer so I hadn’t been thinking about running away. In addition, since I was living at home, it was difficult for me to get out at night except for the nights when my parents had their choir practice. On those nights I would sneak out and go hang out around the Sugar Bowl with the other guys. As long as I managed to get home before ten o’clock I wouldn’t get caught. I was also in a play at school playing Scrooge in Dickens’ Christmas Carol, so I would lie and tell my parents there was a play rehearsal if I wanted to get out on other nights. I wanted to be sure I would be involved with this rumble, so I had begun thinking of other ways I could get out of the house at night. I knew that a Saturday would be a challenge because of church the next day and Saturday being a bath night.

On the Thursday after the powwow, Morton sat down with Billy and me in one of the booths at the Sugar Bowl and said, “I need you guys to go over to that school in Hazel Park tonight and check out the setup over there.”

Billy looked over at me and said, “We need to know what the schoolyard is like for the rumble and also to see what escape routes there are in case the cops come in to break it up.”

Morton nodded and said, “Bring Sally with you when you go to check it out. She’s going to the rumble to point out her guy and needs to know how we’re going to handle this. She’s also going to bring her cousin to point out the two guys that messed with her, just to make sure we focus on the right guys.”

Since Thursday was choir night for my parents, I was able to be at the Sugar Bowl as soon as they left for practice.

Morton picked us up at the Sugar Bowl that evening just before dark. Billy had brought his girlfriend Dolores who was one of the Duchesses. They got into the front seat of Morton’s car with Dolores in the middle, and Sally and I got in back. The car that night was a 1936 Buick Roadmaster, another big, black four-door sedan.

As we drove towards the school in Hazel Park, Morton began to talk about the night of the rumble. “I was in another rumble at this place last year but I think it’s changed since then. It should be a good spot because there used to be some lights on the building so we can see. Sally and her cousin are going to let us know which guys jumped them. I’ll take the guy who jumped Sally. Billy, you and Van Buren take the other two guys. The rest of our boys will fight the others.”

Billy had his arm around Dolores. I was sitting on one side of the huge back seat behind Morton, and Sally was scrunched into the other corner. I found I was extremely interested in Billy and Dolores. I wondered what it would be like to have a girlfriend. Dolores was a good-looking girl. She and Billy were always kissing around the Sugar Bowl, and I had seen Billy feel her breasts a couple of times when they were necking in one of the booths. I was also conscious of Sally huddled over in her corner of the back seat. I wanted to look over at her. I wanted to say something to her, but I didn’t know what to say.

Billy asked, “What weapons are we bringing for this one?”

“Clubs, chains and knuckles—no knives,” Morton replied.

In my many previous practice fight sessions with Billy, I had learned the clubs were either sawed-off or broken-off baseball bats. The chains were either cut-off tire chains or bicycle chains that you wrapped around your hand and swung at your opponent, and the knuckles were brass knuckles that you wore on your fist in order to cause serious damage when you connected with the other fighter.

We had pulled up in front of the Hazel Park Grade School and Morton looked over at Billy. “I’m gonna drop you guys off here. I’ll be back in a little while. Billy, you and Van Buren scope the place out. Figure out where it’s best for us to set up so we can escape if the cops show up. We have to be able to protect Sally and her cousin, but they have to be able to see the other guys to point out which ones jumped them.”

Sally piped up, “I can take care of myself. If I see that son-of-a-bitch I’ll beat his fuckin’ ass good!”

“No! You let me take care of him. I know you can probably take this guy yourself, but these guys will be using weapons that could mess you up good. You don’t wanna mess up that pretty face, do you?” Morton said with a rare smile on his face.

Sally folded her arms across her ample chest. “Yeah, okay,” she mumbled as she opened the car door and stepped out. I wasn’t convinced she meant it but Sally knew not to argue with Morton.

I got out on my side of the car and Billy and Dolores climbed out of the front seat. We slammed our doors shut and Morton pulled away.
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My other blog about Buddhism

http://www.buddhistbelief.com
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Another Chapter of the Memoir/Novel, Lost and Found is ready!

This Chapter is a bit longer than I would like to use in a blog post, but I couldn’t see a good way to break it into two separate postings. I hope it’s not too long.

It’s hard to believe we’re up to Chapter Fifty!

It’s kind of scary when I think of how much more we have to go. Guess I’d better post this one and get to doing some serious writing if I ever want to finish this book.

Be well — be in peace,

Ron Rink
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Morton started the car, checked over his shoulder, shifted into gear and pulled out into the left lane. He made a left turn at the next traffic light and drove alongside Palmer Park looking for a place to park. No one had said a word since we left the hangout for the Livernois gang.

We found a place to park and Morton backed the car into the spot. He leaned back and lit a cigarette. “Here’s what’s gonna happen, Van Buren,” he said quietly. “In a few minutes we’ll get out of the car and walk into the park. The statue is in the center of the park, but we’re gonna take one of the paths that’s near enough to the statue so we can see who comes with Arthur. Keep your eyes open all the time to make sure we don’t get jumped. Arthur’s one mean bastard and he might decide to try something. I don’t think he will, but there’s only the three of us.”

Billy looked over at Morton as he lit up a cigarette. “I’ll keep a little bit back from you guys so I can make sure nothing’s going on behind us.”

Morton nodded. “Let’s go,” he said as he opened his car door and stepped out into the road.

Billy and I got out on our side and we all walked across the street and into the park. Morton and I started walking down a path to our right and Billy hung back and waited near the street. After we had walked for three or four minutes, I looked back and saw Billy was following us at a distance. We continued for several more minutes. Morton nudged me with his elbow and nodded his head towards the left. I looked over to where he was indicating and saw the statue. We stopped. I looked back and saw Billy had stopped as well. He was leaning against a tree and smoking. Morton and I moved over to a park bench and sat down.

There were some younger kids playing around the statue, but there wasn’t anyone else around. It was close to the time most people would be having their dinner. I kept looking over my shoulder and off to my right but I didn’t see anything that looked threatening.

Morton and I both lit cigarettes. Coming around from the other side of the statue was Arthur and the same two guys who were with him in front of the store. I didn’t see any sign there were any more guys around. I looked back down the path and saw Billy walking towards us. Morton looked at him and Billy gave a nod. Arthur motioned towards a picnic table sitting off to our right and he and his two guys began walking toward it. We got up and followed them.

Arthur and his boys sat on one side of the picnic table and Morton, Billy and I sat on the other side. Those who weren’t smoking lit up. Everyone seemed to be studying the top of the table, rather than looking at each other. It was silent for a few seconds and then Arthur lifted his face to look first at me, then Billy, then Morton. He took so long looking at each of us that I got the feeling he was trying to memorize our faces. When his gaze was focused on me, I thought I saw just a hint of a smile creep onto his lips.

“So, what’s going on, Morton? And what’s with the little kid, here?” Arthur asked in a raspy, quiet voice as he nodded his head towards me.

“This little kid can take everybody in the Dukes except me and Billy here,” Morton replied, looking hard at Arthur with a challenge in his eyes which would have made me shiver if he was looking at me. “He’s one of my top boys.”

I couldn’t believe what I was hearing, and it took every ounce of self-control to keep my face passive and not break out into an excited grin. At that moment, it became clear why I was being invited along to this powwow. The hierarchy of gangs was determined by the street-fighting ability of the gang members. If you were an undefeated fighter, you were the leader. From there, it moved down the line based on who could defeat whom in a fight. Billy had told me about how Crazy Jimmy and Bobby were the top two fighters in the Dukes. None of the other members had been able to take them in a fight. By winning the fight with them, I had risen to be the number three guy in the gang. Billy was number two.

Arthur looked at me again and studied my face with his piercing eyes as though he was trying to decide if I was as tough as Morton described. I’m sure he already knew the reputation of the State Fair Dukes as being one of the toughest gangs on the east side of Detroit, so I guessed he was trying to put the fact of this kid being so tough into perspective.

“So why the powwow, Morton?” Arthur asked after finally moving his eyes off me and over to Bob Morton.

“Seems like three of your boys jumped one of the Duchesses and her cousin this afternoon right here in the park. That’s not a good thing to do, Arthur, you know,” Morton said quietly as his eyes moved over to the guy with the long black hair sitting right across from me. “In fact, this guy here looks a lot like one of the guys that our girl told us about.” Morton’s eyes were boring into the black-haired guy’s eyes.

There was just a glimmer of fear that appeared on the guy’s face as he suddenly blurted out, “She was asking for it, Arthur. She and this other girl were wagging their asses right in our face.”

Morton kept his gaze on the guy and then slowly turned to Arthur and said, “Guess that clears up any doubts you might have about whether it was your guys who did this thing, right Arthur?”

I could see how the guy across from me suddenly realized what his outburst had cost him and the Livernois gang. There was no way Arthur could deny that his guys had done this. Arthur was looking at the guy like he wanted to kill him. He looked back at Morton.

Morton leaned his arms on the tabletop and bent over so his face was closer to Arthur’s. “So, Arthur, how do we want to deal with this?”

The two leaders stared into each other’s eyes for a few seconds, then Arthur leaned back and told his boys to get up and move away from the table. Morton motioned for Billy and me to do the same. We moved away but still stayed close enough to hear. Arthur’s boys did the same. Then Arthur turned around and motioned them to move further away. Morton did the same to us. When we were all out of earshot, the two leaders leaned closer to each other and began having a lengthy, whispered discussion.

Billy was leaning on one side of a tree and I was leaning on the other. We were both smoking and watching the two guys at the table as well as the two guys that were standing across the way. “Looks like all that street-fighting practice we did is paying off, Van Buren. Morton likes you. You’re number three now,” Billy said as he reached around and gave me a playful jab in my upper arm.

I looked over at Billy and saw one of those rare glimmers of a smile on his face. I nodded and concentrated on keeping myself from grinning like a kid in a candy store. We kept watching the conversation at the table as we smoked our cigarettes. My thoughts were ranging all over the place. I wondered what it meant to be “number three”. Did that mean I would constantly have to defend my place in the gang? Did that mean I would be one of the Dukes selected to fight new guys wanting to get in the gang? Did that mean other gang members would be challenging me for the number three spot? Did that mean I would always be asked to go to powwows? I didn’t know the answers to any of these questions and I didn’t want to ask anyone either, not even Billy. In the short while I had been around the gang, I had learned that figuring things out on my own was the best way to handle questions.

Morton and Arthur got up from the table and walked in their separate directions—Morton towards Billy and me—Arthur towards his two guys.

Morton motioned with his head as he approached us. We pushed off from the tree, fell in with Morton and headed back towards the car. I wanted to ask what had transpired at the table, but decided to take my lead from Billy. He didn’t ask any questions, so neither did I.

Once we were driving back towards State Fair and Woodward, Morton said, “Arthur says we’re gonna have to do a rumble. He don’t want us handling the three guys, and he’s not willing to do it, either. We set it up for next week Saturday at the school in Hazel Park.”

Billy looked over at Morton. “We better have Sally there so she can show us which other guys did this. We want to be sure they get it good.”

Morton nodded as we drove on.

It would be my first gang rumble.
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My other blog about Buddhism

http://www.buddhistbelief.com
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Here’s the next Chapter of my memoir/novel, Lost and Found.

Hello, wonderful readers. I’m sorry for being a day late with this new Chapter, but life was getting in the way yesterday. In fact, I did manage to check emails last evening about 9:30 PM, but since I was barely able to keep my eyes open enough to read, I figured leaving this posting until today was the smart move.

So, no further delays … Here it is!

Be well, be in peace,

Ron Rink
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Even though Bob Morton wasn’t old enough to have his own car and a driver’s license, he usually had the use of a car belonging to one of his family members. There seemed to be an unlimited number of brothers, uncles, and cousins to keep him supplied with a set of wheels most of the time. The car he was driving that day was a big, black 1939 Packard four-door sedan with white sidewalls. Morton and Billy got in the front seat and I climbed in back. The seats were all brown leather and were so soft and comfortable I wished I could find cars like these in some of the garages where I slept. The dashboard was also covered in leather and looked like it was padded. I don’t know what the Morton family did for a living, but Bob Morton always seemed to be showing up with top-of-the-line automobiles.

I had no idea what a powwow was, nor did I have a clue why Morton had asked me to come along. I was in the process of working up the courage to ask, when Morton began to talk to Billy and me.

“Okay,” he said. “Billy, you’ve done this before so this is for you, Van Buren. What we’re gonna do is drive over to the place where the Livernois boys hang out and see if their leader, Arthur Bukowski, is around. If he’s there, we’re gonna sit down and talk about what happened with Sally and her cousin.”

“You mean we can just drive up, walk in and not get killed?” I asked. Despite the fact I was feeling like a big wheel riding around in such a big luxurious car and being asked to come along with the leader of the Dukes, I was also starting to get butterflies in my stomach when I thought about walking into another gang’s hangout.

“Yeah, it’s a powwow. The gangs all know what it means. When another gang’s leader shows up with just one or two other guys, it means it’s just for a powwow. It’s gonna be one leader talking with another leader to see what we can do to get some justice for Sally. All the gangs know you don’t fuck around with the girls from another gang. If you do, there’s gonna be some sort of payback. They also know you don’t jump a leader on a powwow mission.”

“Yeah,” Billy added. “Those are like laws with the gangs.”

Morton had just turned left onto Woodward Avenue from State Fair and got over into the right hand lane. “We’re just gonna talk about how this score gets settled. Either they take care of it and let Sally, her cousin and some of our boys watch, or they tell us who the bastards are and we’ll handle it. If they don’t like those choices, then we’ll have to set up a rumble with both gangs.”

Morton turned right onto 7 Mile Road. Palmer Park was on our left as we drove along. When we got to Livernois, we turned left. The place we were looking for was at the corner of Curtis Street and Livernois. Morton pointed to a small grocery and tobacco shop where a bunch of guys in red jackets were hanging around out in front and pulled up to the curb.

Billy looked over at Bob Morton and said, “Hey, Morton. Look at the guy sitting on the window ledge—the one in the middle. Blonde flat-top with a D.A., pegs and a long chain.”

Morton nodded.

Billy put his arm out of the window on his side and motioned for one of the guys standing against the building to come closer.

The guy pushed himself off the building and sauntered a couple steps closer to the car. He had a cigarette hanging from his lips and his hands were in the pockets of his peg pants. He had long black hair and a long pocket chain. He was the only guy not wearing one of the red “Livernois” jackets. He looked like he was about fourteen or fifteen years old. I wondered if he was one of the guys who had attacked Sally’s cousin. The guy just stood there looking at us as he took drags from his cigarette without taking it out of his mouth.

“Arthur around?” Morton said. He didn’t turn his head to his right to look at the guy, but kept his eyes focused out the front window of the car.

The guy was beginning to take drags off his cigarette so fast his head was wreathed in smoke. “Who wants to know?”

Morton was still looking straight ahead. “Bob Morton from State Fair. Need a powwow.”

The guy bent down so he could see Morton over on the driver’s side of the car. Then he straightened up, looked at Billy, then at me in the back seat. “I’ll go see if he’s here.”

He turned and went into the store without looking back. Morton was still sitting calmly staring out through the windshield. Billy was drumming his fingers on the door panel next to him and I was leaning over the back of the front seat looking anxiously from the side of Morton’s head, to the side of Billy’s head and to the guys hanging around the front of the building. There were eight or nine of them and they just stayed where they were, looking at the car and at us inside. They didn’t say anything to each other—they just smoked, looked and waited.

A few minutes later the door to the store opened and the same guy that went inside came out. Right behind him was a tall, heavy-set guy with the broadest shoulders I’d ever seen. He must have been over six-feet tall. His shoulders were so big it didn’t look like he had a neck. He had on one of the red jackets which he left wide open in the front because it would never have fit over his large belly. He had on peg pants and stompers. His hair was long, greasy, unwashed-looking, and fell across his face so it was hard to see his expression. I did notice how his eyes were moving constantly as if he was looking for something which wasn’t there. He was also smoking and held the cigarette between the fingers of his left hand. His other hand hung loosely at his side.

Another guy followed them out and the three of them stood next to each other a few feet away from the car with the big, tall guy in the middle. The big guy bent over to look at Morton behind the wheel and said, “Hey, Morton. What’s up?”

Bob Morton was still keeping his eyes focused out the windshield. “Arthur, we need to have a powwow. You got some time to take a short ride over to the park?”

“Nah. I ain’t getting in there and riding with you. I’ll meet you over at the statue in the park in about a half-hour.” He turned his back to us and sauntered back into the store. I noticed that he had an exaggerated swagger to his walk like many of the guys in the Dukes also had. It made him look tough.

I decided I would learn to walk that way soon.

The other two guys turned and followed him.
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My other blog about Buddhism

http://www.buddhistbelief.com
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Here’s another Chapter of Lost and Found!

In this Chapter I’m introducing a new character, Sally, who turns out be an important part of my life during these young years. You’ll learn much more about her in later Chapters, some of which are still being written.

This Chapter is also a bit long for a blog post, but I didn’t see any way to cut it back. Oh yeah, it’s rated R for language!

Rather than take up more space, I’ll not make any more comments here — other than to say, “Thank you all, for the great comments you’re leaving on the blog!” They sure are appreciated.

Be well, be in peace,

Ron Rink
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When I became of member of the Dukes it didn’t take long for me to learn more about gang life. After I had my two fights with Crazy Jimmy and Bobby, Billy informed me they were two of the best street fighters in the gang. I also discovered whenever Bob Morton wasn’t around, Billy was the leader of the gang. That meant the only person in the gang who Billy couldn’t beat in a fight, was Bob Morton. The fact I was able to beat Crazy Jimmy and Bobby, plus the fact that Billy and I were friends before I became a gang member, gave me special status among the other members, despite my age. What really surprised me was how Bob Morton seemed to take a special interest in me as well.

When I first got into the gang and started hanging around the Sugar Bowl, Morton would often pretend to box with me. I’d walk in and he would act as if he was sparring with me. I’d put up my dukes too and we would pretend we were fighting. It was fun, but it also gave me an idea of how quick he was. His hands would be a complete blur as he Threw jabs at my face. I would jab back but he was so much bigger that my hands would be a mile away from his face. I watched him carefully, though. In his own way, he was teaching me more about how to fight. “C’mon, Van Buren,” he’d say, “Lemme see what you can do, man.”

He’d circle first in one direction, and then the other, moving so fast that I would get dizzy. “Look at my eyes, kid. The clues about what’s coming next are in the eyes.” Then one hand would flick out at my face while the other hand would fly straight towards my stomach. My hands would shoot up to protect my face, while I jumped backwards to avoid his shot to the stomach. I couldn’t believe how fast he was.

More evidence about how Bob Morton might be giving me special treatment happened about two months after I started going to the Sugar Bowl and hanging out with the gang.

One of the Duchesses who hung out with the gang, Sally, came into the store late one afternoon and told the guys about how she and her cousin ran into some trouble over at Palmer Park earlier that day.

Palmer Park was located along Woodward Avenue just south of Seven Mile Road. The park had a large pond in the middle of it and lots of walking paths through the wooded areas. There were swings, teeter-totters, park benches and picnic tables scattered around. The pond was great during the winter months for ice-skating. I had just begun to learn how to speed skate, and there was a large oval island in the middle of the pond where the speed skaters would whirl around. It was a challenge to join them and try to keep up with some of the faster skaters. Around the perimeter of the park, there were some tall apartment buildings with parking areas around them. I didn’t know if it was true or not, but the guys I skated with told me they were occupied by really rich people.

Sally was a nice looking girl, not very tall with long, straight brown hair. She had large breasts for her age – something which brought her a great deal of teasing by the guys in the gang. There was something wrong with one of Sally’s hips and she walked with a pronounced limp. Sally stood apart from the other girls in that she was one of only two girls in the gang who wasn’t a girlfriend of one of the gang members. She had a temper which would flash at the slightest provocation. She could curse and swear better than most of the guys. She would often get into intense, heated arguments with the guys, usually over things which didn’t matter and she had a reputation of being in some serious fights with girls outside the Duke’s gang. When she wasn’t arguing or yelling at something or someone, she was morosely quiet, stayed to herself and didn’t say much to anyone.

Sally came into the Sugar Bowl spouting and sputtering in anger, “These goddamned, smart-ass guys jumped me and my cousin over at Palmer Park a little while ago. There were three of the motherfuckers.”

Her blouse was dirty across the front, one of her buttons had been torn off and her face was so flushed she looked like she’d been holding her breath. “They started by just following us while we were walking and talking. They were making kissing noises and then they started asking us if we wanted to fuck them. One of the guys said if we didn’t want to fuck, he’d settle for a good blowjob.”

Sally stopped to catch her breath. She looked so angry it was hard to tell whether she was about to cry or get sick to her stomach. She continued through her clenched teeth, “We just kept ignoring them and walking faster. Then, when one of them started making cracks about the way I walk and calling me a gimp. I turned around and told him to go fuck himself.”

Bob Morton got up from one of the booths and came over to Sally. “Who were they? Did you know them?” he demanded in a tight, angry voice.

Sally was so angry it took all of her strength not to let the tears come. Her jaw was clenched so tight you could see it jumping on her cheeks. “No, but one of them had one of those red jackets with “Livernois” across the back like the Livernois gang wears.”

Livernois was the name of a street in Detroit that ran several blocks to the west of Palmer Park.

Sally went on. She was breathing so hard she was almost hyperventilating. “We had just reached the place where that parking area is behind one of the apartments. You know where I mean?” she asked.

Morton nodded.

“Right after I told them to fuck off, the guy with the red jacket grabbed me from behind, pushed me up against one of the parked cars, and started grabbing at my tits and crotch. The other two bastards grabbed my cousin and started to feel her up.”

Morton took Sally’s arm and led her over to one of the booths. She sat down and Morton slid in next to her. “Go on, Sally, then what happened?” Morton asked.

“I couldn’t turn around to knee the bastard in the nuts, so I got him a good hard jab in the mouth with my elbow. He let go of me, started to wipe blood from his lip with his fingers, looked at me like he was going to kill me, and backed away. At the same time, my cousin bit one of the guys in the lip when he was trying to kiss her.”

Sally got a smug smile on her face and was nodding her head up and down.

“That guy started screaming, ‘You rotten little bitch!’ Then both guys jumped back and put their fists up like they were going to start punching her out. So my cousin and me ran like hell towards some grown-ups walking in the park and the guys took off the other way. My cousin had her car there, and we came right here. She was scared and went home after she dropped me off. We gotta get those sons-a-bitches!”

“What did they look like?’ Morton asked.

“The one who grabbed me, the one with the red jacket, he had blond hair cut in a flat-top with a D.A. in back. He was skinny and a little taller than me. I didn’t get a good look at the other two. I know they both had long, dark hair, either brown or black with D.A.’s, and had on peg pants. The guy who grabbed me had on peg pants too and he had a long pocket chain. The other guys were both taller than my cousin.”

Morton probed for more information. “How old do you think they were?”

Sally closed her eyes and thought for a minute. “I don’t know—maybe fourteen or fifteen. I hope those motherfuckers have a short life!”

Morton looked over at Billy sitting in one of the booths by the window and motioned with his head for him to get up. I was sitting across from Billy drinking a chocolate coke.

“We need to go have a powwow,” Morton said. “Bring Van Buren and let’s go.”

Morton put his arm around Sally’s shoulders. “Sally, you stay here until we get back.”

Morton got up and looked around at the other guys, “The rest of you guys hang around and keep your eyes open in case any Livernois boys come around. Don’t leave Sally alone here.”

Sally went over and sat in one of the booths along the wall with a couple of the other Duchesses.

Billy motioned with his head to follow him and nodded towards Morton. We got up and followed him out the door.
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