Chasing the Bear

Chapter 42

"Sun's down," Susan said. "And it's getting chilly. I think we should go across the street and have a glass of wine at The Bristol Lounge."

"What a good idea," I said.

We walked off the little bridge and headed past the last of the cruising swan boats toward Boylston Street.

Susan took my hand as we walked.

"Was that Mexican boy's name really Petey?" she said.

"Pedro," I said.

"Did they fight?" she said.

I smiled.

"Yep," I said.

"And?" Susan said.

"The Anglos got outthought," I said. "The Mexicans sent one of their smallest guys down back of the Y. He let Roemer and his group see him, and he fired an apple at them and ran. Of course they chased him. He ran across the street to the Public Works parking lot, full of trucks and plows and tractors, and hid in there. Leo Roemer and his troop come after him and start looking for him, which causes them to split up into small groups looking in and around the heavy equipment, which is parked in rows with an aisle in between. The Mexican kids are in there waiting. When the Anglos get in among the trucks, Petey's boys jump them, and, because the Anglos are split up, they are always outnumbered by the Mexican kids, and they get their tails whipped. The fight ends with Leo, with a bloody nose, leading his troop out of there at a dead run."

"And you think Petey planned this out before it happened?" Susan said.

"Down to the apple," I said. "If it was a stone or something that would do damage, they might have been scared to chase him into the lot. But an apple doesn't scare anybody, just annoys them."

"And he knew when they got to the lot, they'd split up and start looking up and down the aisles."

I nodded.

"And how do you know about this?" she said. "Did you attend?"

"No," I said. "Aurelio told me."

"Did he attend?"

"Nope, but some of the other Mexican kids told him about it," I said. "And pretty much it was all over town by the next afternoon . . ." I grinned at the memory. "And Leo was seen around town with a black eye and a fat lip."

"You seem glad the Mexican boys won."

"I didn't care who won," I said. "I never got that whole business about racial loyalty, or gender loyalty, or age loyalty. I always, even when I was little, tried to take things as they came and like or dislike them on how they were."

"You still do," Susan said.

"Yes," I said. "But even now I still kind of admire how smart Pedro was. Gang for gang, I think he was outnumbered."

We went into the Four Seasons hotel. Both doormen spoke warmly to Susan. We walked to the lounge in silence and got a seat at the bar. Susan ordered a glass of pinot grigio. I had a beer.

"Was that the end of it?" Susan said.

"Not quite," I said.