When Dad Came Back Read Online Free Page B

shade of the library until his eyes adjusted to the bright sunlight. When he could see again, three men were ambling toward the library, with bundles on their backs. Their faces were gray or yellow or an unnatural orange, and their hands permanently grimy. When one opened his mouth to speak to another, he revealed a toothless cavern. Their collars were starched with filth.
    Gabe stepped away from the door to give room to these men who had no beds on which to toss their worn-out bones.
    Before Gabe tried to locate his dad, he wanted to tell his mother about their most recent encounter. But she was at work. To kill time until his mother got home, Gabe headed to Romain Playground, using a detour that took him through a dilapidated area where guard dogs flossed their sharp teeth on chain-link fences.
    Ever since he was a little kid with scabs on his elbows and knees, Romain Playground had been his second home. There, he climbed the rope of experience. He had had his first fight there, his first kiss on the cheek when he was in second grade, his first injury requiring stitches when he fell off the slide, and his first experience getting robbed. When he was a skinny eight-year-old, two older kids pushed him against the chain-link fence and plunged their hands into his pockets. They pulled out his stash of Tootsie Rolls. They chewed that muddy candy as they pushed him around. Finally, they walked away in search of other little kids to pounce on.
    At the playground, he watched the little kids in the pool playing tag. Their screams were pitched higher than an ambulance racing down the street at full throttle.
    The action in the pool brought back memories for Gabe. He would have joined the game, except he didn't have any swim trunks. Instead, he played checkers with a little girl genius because no one could beat her—not even adults. With a lollipop in the corner of her mouth, she beat Gabe not once but three times, and made him laugh when she repeated for the last time, “I win again.”
    Gabe suddenly felt out of place. Not until late in the afternoon would kids his own age show up at Romain Playground, and then they would sit on top of the picnic tables and talk stuff. His presence among the little kids made him feel as if he was babysitting. In fact, the rec leader, Jamal Reynolds, asked him to hand out four-square balls, jacks, jump ropes, chess and checkers boards, and pitifully dented Ping-pong balls, plus give Band-Aids to any of the little kids who tripped while running or scraped their knees after parachuting from the swings. There was always a daredevil getting hurt.
    â€œI got to see about the diamond,” Jamal said, fitting a baseball cap at an angle on his head. “Back in a sec.”
    The rec room was in a small cinder-block building. Metal mesh on the two windows protected the room against break-ins. Gabe stood guard for nearly an hour, then gave up his position when Jamal returned from clamping down the baseball bases, rechalking the lines, picking up litter, and hosing down the field.
    â€œHow's things, homeboy?” Jamal asked. He plunged his hand into an ice chest and pulled out two sodas. He handed one to Gabe—an Orange Crush.
    Gabe drank long and hard. He let out a burp into his arm. He debated whether to burden Jamal with the cargo of hurt in his heart. Jamal already listened to the worries of some thirty kids that showed up daily, and maybe he had his own personal problems. So Gabe just said, “OK, I guess.” He crushed his empty soda can and tossed it into the recycling bin in the corner.
    Jamal was a starting running back for City College. He had gone to Roosevelt High, where he had set records for rushing touchdowns and was elected vice president of his class.
    â€œDon't sound OK to me,” Jamal said.
    At that, Gabe asked, “You got a father?”
    The smile on Jamal's face flattened. “Somewhere in this world. My mom and me, we don't talk about the man.”