Warrior Angel by Robert Lipsyte Page A

Voices whispered, Sonny told Dick to keep you hidden so he can get rid of you later.
    The camera pulled back to show Starkey at Sonny’s side. Dick said, “That’s Sonny’s young assistant trainer, calling the punches.”
    Sonny elbowed him. “Assistant trainer.”
    The Voices again: Sonny told Dick to put you on TV so Stepdad’ll know where to find you.
    The broadcast cut to Dick interviewing Sonny.
    â€œWhat happened to you in Vegas?”
    â€œI was flat. Couldn’t get off.”
    â€œWe’ve known each other awhile, Sonny. That wasn’t you. There were rumors that you were seeing a psychotherapist.”
    â€œDo I look crazy to you?” snapped Sonny.
    â€œHostile, just hostile,” said Dick, smiling. “And that’s your job.”
    The broadcast cut to the anchors, chuckling. One of them said, “Maybe you have to be a little crazy to fight the Wall.”
    Starkey thought, They’re always doing that.
    â€œWhat?”
    â€œJokes. About being crazy.”
    Sonny shrugged and kept eating.
    â€œNever bother you?” said Starkey.
    â€œMight, if I was crazy.” Sonny thumbed the remote.
    The Voices whispered, He thinks you’re crazy.
    Starkey struggled to keep control, to squeeze the Voices out. A quarter dosage isn’t enough. Finally he said, “What…doooooo you meannnnnn?”
    â€œYou okay?” Sonny’s face lengthened, his eyes turned red. He hit the mute button on the TV. “Man, you sound weird. You doing anything?”
    Starkey tried to answer but nothing was coming out that he could understand. He narrowed his mind, focused, pushed the Voices to the nooks and crannies of his skull. It was exhausting, but it was working. Slowly he found a clear channel to think and then speak.
    â€œI’m okay.” He tried to smile. “Better not have dope. Not when Alfred comes around.”
    Sonny’s body jerked. “Alfred’s coming around?”
    Starkey felt the clear channel vibrating.Don’t want to lose this moment. “He’s waiting for your call.”
    â€œYou don’t even know him.”
    I know you all from The Book, Starkey wanted to say, but he said, “Alfred knows you’re here. Johnson would have told him. But he can’t call you because you walked out on him. You have to make the call.”
    Sonny shrugged.
    â€œYooooou heeearrrr meeeeeee?” Starkey took deep breaths, but the gym floor wouldn’t stop rippling, the heavy bags were swaying in a cold wind up from Hell, and the Voices were back now and they wouldn’t quit anymore tonight.
    Sonny stood up. “I’ll think about it.”
    They cleaned up silently. Sonny was back inside himself. Did I drive him there? But I had to. Don’t have much time left to save him. Not unless I can get more meds. I had to go for it. Can’t read him right now. Is he thinking about calling Alfred? Or is he just shutting me out for going too far too fast, blowing the Mission?
    Before he tried to sleep, Starkey checked his backpack. Laptop, red cap, The Book. He fingered the ridge in the binding over the razor blade.

15
    A LFRED’S WIFE , L ENA , was waiting for Sonny at the railroad station. He felt his nervousness drain away when she hugged him and said, “He was so happy you called.”
    The familiar white HandiVan was out in the parking lot. “How is he?”
    â€œGood days and bad days. He keeps getting these infections. They can knock him down for a week. But he bounces back—you know Alfred.”
    Alfred was in the driver’s seat. He was thinner than Sonny remembered, dark circles around his eyes. A year ago he would never have waited in the car, no matter how hard it was to climb out and into his wheelchair. He must be in a lot of pain.
    Lena opened the front passenger door and pushed Sonny forward. All he could think of to say as he climbed in was