The Wanderers by Richard Price Page A

let a three-wheeled skate get by and a fifty-year-old lady in her second childhood broke her leg zooming down a hill. The lady sued, and the company traced the error to him—so if he let one more faulty skate go past him again he'd be canned. They were purposely sending three-wheeled roller skates down the assembly line, but he caught every one. He was a conscientious worker.
    Mrs. Hite was in charge of the projects' laundry room in the basement of her building. She'd been living in this country for twenty years and still spoke almost unintelligible English. She was from Ireland.
    ***
    The day Dougie and Scottie were left nude in the park, Dougie convinced Scottie to run to the highway and try to stop a car for help. While Scottie was standing bare-ass-naked on the edge of the road, almost getting run over by shocked motorists, Dougie found and beat up a smaller kid, took his clothes, and went home.
    ***
    "Hey, Hite!" Dougie came up behind Scottie in Big Playground and clapped a hand on his shoulder.
    "Hiya, Dougie."
    "You wanna hawa contest, Scottie?"
    "Yeah?"
    "I got a good contest. Let's see who can hit each other the softest."
    "Hah?" Dougie ushered Scottie behind the Parks Department building, a small brick supply house in the middle of the playground.
    "We'll see who can hit each other the softest, you get it?"
    "Nah." Scottie squinted, working out pi to the tenth decimal place.
    "Look, asshole ... like this." Dougie grabbed Scottie's arm, and as Scottie cringed, he drew back his fist and, faking a furious punch, tapped Scottie lightly on the biceps. "Like that ... see?" Scottie nodded. "O.K. You go first." Dougie stuck out his arm. Scottie made an angry face, snarled, drew back his fist—and for a second Dougie got scared that Scottie didn't understand—and tapped his friend lightly on the arm. "O.K., now it's my turn." Dougie grabbed Scottie's arm again, drew back his fist, and punched Scottie as hard as he could. "You win." He laughed as Scottie held his bruised arm and howled like a wolf, his head thrown back, his eyes clenched in pain. "Hey, I gotta 'nother one."
    "No!" said Scottie.
    "C'mon." Dougie rubbed his friend's arm. "Hey, Scottie!" Scottie stared at him.
    "Eeeeuwww! You got a booger on your shirt!" Dougie pointed to a spot on Scottie's chest, and when Scottie looked down Dougie flicked up his finger, smacking him in the nose.
    "Rotten shit!" Scottie chased Dougie around the playground, but Dougie was faster, eluding his flunky with laughable ease. Finally Scottie got tired and called it quits.
    It was one of those gray, cold Sunday afternoons when bored kids are at their most dangerous, Scottie and Dougie no exceptions. As they rambled through the angular housing project they broke a window, started fires in three garbage cans, and jammed the elevator in Scottie's building.
    "I wish I was a marine," said Dougie. Scottie squinted as if thinking about reorganizing marine troop distribution in the Pacific. "I wish I was a marine so I could torture Nazis ... do you like torture?" Dougie asked.
    "I dunno, what is it?"
    "C'mere, I'll show you." He took Scottie into the hallway of a building. "O.K. I'll be the marine and you be the Nazi." He faced Scottie. "Where are your tanks?" he barked. Scottie looked confused and shrugged. "You lie!" Dougie slapped Scottie hard across the face.
    "Auuu! You fuck!" Scottie grabbed Dougie's ears and slammed his head into a cinder-block wall. Hearing a satisfying BONK, Scottie's anger left him. Dougie sat dazed on the concrete floor, his head vibrating.
    "You shouldna did that, Dougie," he said, groping for an apologetic tone of voice. Dougie looked up at Scottie, who panted and picked his nose. Dougie was filled with a cool hate that calmed his impulse to strangle and replaced it with a sweet sense of time and revenge. Scottie had never hit him before, although Scottie was Dougie's punching bag; this was a clear case of mutiny. "Help me up, Hite." Dougie extended a hand.