by Tom Henighan
Hawk pondered this, then told him, not quite truthfully, “Oh, I’ve got to meet my mother on the Danforth around three-thirty or four. I can walk over there from your store.”
With the van in motion, Mr. Rizzuto began to give Hawk a few additional tips about how to improve his batting and fielding. “Don’t get me wrong, kid,” he said, when he had finished elaborating on his advice. “You’re good enough right now to play senior Little League — I’d bet my store on it! But you may as well do a few more sessions with me before you try out again. We don’t want to take any chances.”
“Don’t worry, I’ll make it,” Hawk assured him. “I’m gonna do okay in school, too.”
Mr. Rizzuto deposited Hawk at the store, and after lunch Chick got him running errands. Hawk enjoyed cruising the mostly familiar streets, and he knew it would earn him a few dollars from Mr. Rizzuto. Nonetheless, the time passed slowly, and the afternoon dragged on. Anxious to get over to talk to Martin, and to find out if Panny would really help him, he left the store early, taking his time to walk up Jones to the Danforth.
As he drifted along (he didn’t want to arrive too early) his thoughts shot from one disturbing idea to another. He imagined himself in a classroom with all the “smart” kids, trying to show them that he was just as smart as they were. But suppose he started muffing his reading, and completely messed up his math? The teachers would shake their heads in disapproval. He’d look like a fool!
These fears he managed to shove away as he began to think of how he would get his baseball glove back from Elroy. Sure, Elroy didn’t seem like such a bad guy, but it was his glove and he wanted it back badly. Would he have to confront Elroy, fool him somehow, and steal the glove back? He had no idea. And what about that “treasure,” the famous Babe Ruth baseball? Maybe that really was a pipe dream of Mr. Rizzuto’s. Maybe he’d never escape from that taxicab, maybe nothing would work out and he’d be dragged away to some Children’s Aid place where he’d never see his mum or dad again. All of a sudden he felt panicky, helpless, and very confused.
Hawk stopped in his tracks, and fighting back tears of frustration, swore out loud and spat into the street. An old lady passing by gave him a disapproving look and cackled sweetly, “Oh dear! How nasty! Why aren’t you in school, little boy?”
He thumbed his nose at her, scurried away, broke into a jog, and was overjoyed when the bustling, down-to-earth Danforth hove into sight. His run seemed to blow all the negative thoughts out of his head.
Still, as he approached his destination, Hawk kept looking warily around, remembering that his mother often tried to peddle her street wares on the Danforth. He had chosen the Jones intersection, where she seldom hung out, but since he’d learned that you couldn’t count on anything, and that things had a way of turning out weirdly, he kept his eyes peeled for her anyway.
The Danforth, busy as it was, and lined by stores, coffee shops, and restaurants, was not intimidating. The buildings weren’t too high, the traffic was steady but not overwhelming, and the sidewalks were neither crowded nor deserted.
Hawk came out on the thoroughfare, looked left and right, and sure enough, spotted Panny on her bike (red panniers again today) across the street in front of a small corner coffee shop. And there, right beside her, was the reliable Martin, who spied Hawk at once and waved him over. Minutes later, Martin was spilling out his story.
“I followed him all right. It was a long walk. Lucky he didn’t have a bike. A couple of times I thought he spotted me, but I guess not. He lives west of Pape down by Lake Shore Boulevard. It’s on one of those side streets that point toward the lake, a small wooden house, a bit shabby, but not too bad. There’s lots of warehouses, parked cars, and alleys near the place. It won’t be too hard to stake it out.”
Panny winked at Hawk. “Martin watches a lot of TV crime shows, can’t you tell? He filled me in on what happened at your practice. I just hope Elroy’s mother didn’t really buy your glove at a yard sale! So let’s keep our fingers crossed and head down there — it’s a long way. I’ll bike, and you guys take the bus. I’ll meet you at Eastern and Pape, by the movie studios, and we’ll check out this kid’s house.”
They met with no trouble, and a good half-hour later were set up down the street from a small wooden house with two entrances, squeezed between a faceless warehouse and a printer’s showroom. The house, covered with old white siding, had a rickety porch and steps and a smear of rough grass that lined the sidewalk. Above the porch roof, a couple of small bay windows, overhung by pointed gables, showed their plain brown curtains. The curtains revealed nothing; the house seemed insignificant and out of place on that commercial street.
Hawk gaped at it, shook his head, and said wryly, “Well, it’s not much of a place to live, but it’s better than a taxi.”
“Yeah, I can’t wait to see that taxi of yours,” Panny said. “I hope we don’t have to hang around here too long. Somebody will get suspicious. Anyway, I brought a few snacks.”
She pulled two apples, a couple of granola bars, and soft drinks for each of the boys from her panniers. Then they organized their watch on the house. Panny would ride around the streets a bit, so as not to attract attention. Meanwhile, Hawk and Martin settled down in an alley with a good view of the house — a large Dumpster fronted it and they could hide behind it if they had to take cover. Panny would come and let them know if she saw anyone who looked suspicious approaching the place. Both Panny and Martin had iPods with them, and from time to time Hawk borrowed Martin’s.
Even so, time passed very slowly. Cars drove up and down the street, one or two people were visible in a nearby showroom window and a few more in a car lot, but there were no pedestrians — and not even a dog or a cat in sight.
“This is bleak,” Hawk said. “I just hope the police don’t cruise by and see us. They’ll start asking questions if they do.”
“We could take a walk, but someone in the house might spot us,” Martin said. He yawned, sat down on the hard concrete of the alley, and handed his iPod to Hawk. After a while, Panny cycled past, giving them a covert wave, and saying, as if they hadn’t noticed, “Nothing yet!”
More time passed and they watched, bored and restless, as the light moved slowly across the alley walls, though sunset was still far away. Just when they were beginning to wonder if they would see anyone at all, a woman appeared at the street corner and trudged along toward the house. She was a heavy-set black woman wearing sunglasses, who appeared to be hauling some groceries in her large shopping bag.
“Elroy’s mother?” Martin whispered. Hawk shrugged his shoulders. But as the woman came up to the house and started to climb the rickety steps of one of the dwellings, Hawk whispered back, “It must be.”
The boys crouched together, trying to make themselves invisible in the alley. The woman used her key and went into the house. Panny whizzed by on her bike, and told them, “Something will happen now!”
More time passed, but just when the boys had decided that Panny was wrong, the door of the house opened, and two kids came out.
“There’s our Elroy,” Martin said. “It’s about time.”
Hawk didn’t answer. He was staring at the boys as they came down the steps, staring at them with wide eyes. Elroy was a good foot taller than his companion, but he looked a bit skinny and insignificant next to him. The other boy, short and stocky, wore old overalls and a tattered work shirt with rolled-up sleeves that revealed his heavily tattooed arms. Hatless, his eyes hidden behind big dark sunglasses, he pushed Elroy forward, smiling as he ushered him along the sidewalk. Hawk recognized this second boy at once, but stood there, his hands beginning to tremble and his throat tightening until at last he got the words out: “Martin! That guy he’s with, I know him. They call him Ringo, and he’s the rat who stole my glove. You know what that means — Elroy must be one of the Rippers.”
Chapter 6
Messages at Night
Martin shook his head in dismay. “Yeah? You sure? Well, that
’s bad news. Maybe we’d better get out of here.”
“Okay, but … wait.” Hawk wanted to be sure the coast was clear and peered cautiously around the Dumpster. Then he stole forward to the end of the alley and cast a glance down the street.
“They’ve stopped at the corner,” he told his friend. “Ugh! Ringo has an arm on Elroy’s shoulder. They must be gang members together. I don’t get it. I heard the Rippers don’t like Afro kids.”
“Maybe they’re getting more broad-minded,” Martin said.
“Hold it! Elroy’s coming back. We have to hide again. I wonder how Panny’s doing?”
They scurried back behind the Dumpster and sprawled on the hard concrete, peering anxiously at the house across the street. A few seconds later Elroy reappeared. He stopped at the bottom of the steps and looked around. He didn’t seem to be looking at anything in particular, but was apparently pondering something. Then he shrugged his shoulders and disappeared into the house.
A moment later, Panny zoomed into sight and braked sharply in front of the Dumpster. She cast a glance up and down the street, then slowly wheeled her bike into the alley.
“Wow! That was interesting. Who’s that weirdo Elroy was with? Must be a Ripper for sure. He looks like an evil dwarf from a comic book.”
“That’s the guy who stole my glove and gave me a black eye,” Hawk explained. “They call him Ringo — it’s some kind of joke they have.”
“I’m glad they have a sense of humour. They laughed while they beat you up, right?”
“It’s horrible that Elroy’s one of them. Not good for him and not good for getting my glove back. What do we do now? Maybe tell Mr. Rizzuto?”
“Wait a minute, you haven’t heard everything,” Panny said. “I was able to watch them quite closely. Just some dumb girl on a bike, they thought. And after watching them, I’m not so sure that your baseball pal Elroy is one of them at all.”
“What? Why not? He had an arm around the guy. They looked like friends to me,” Martin insisted.
“A spider hangs around with a fly, doesn’t he?” Panny reminded him. “And they get close together in the web before the spider eats him for dinner. So what does an arm on the shoulder prove? I was watching Elroy’s face, and trust me, that kid was scared to death. His hands were trembling the whole time. He looked a bit sick, too, when he started back for his mum’s place over there.”
“You mean that the Rippers are threatening Elroy? Then why did he get the glove from them?”
“Carrot and stick,” Panny suggested. “It could be — we don’t know for sure — that the gang is setting him up, or using him for something. They’re rewarding him and drawing him into the web. Anyway, he didn’t look very happy. If he’s really a bad guy, he’s not enjoying it very much.”
“What do we do now?” Martin asked.
“We keep spying on this place. Whatever Elroy is up to, it looks like he can lead us to the Rippers.”
“I can’t stay here very long,” Hawk said. “It’s getting late. My mum will be expecting me on the Danforth about now.”
“That’s okay,” Martin told him. “I’ll watch the place until dark. I can come back tomorrow, too. I’ve got your cell number, Panny. I’ll text you if anything happens, or if I need help. My aunt doesn’t even notice if I stay out. And to be on the safe side, all I have to do is leave the TV on in my room. She’ll fall asleep thinking I’m watching a game or something.”
“Good idea, Martin. I’ll walk part of the way home with our Hawk-boy here. Don’t forget to call me if you need us — and stay out of the way of that Ripper gang!”
Martin settled down behind the Dumpster. Panny handed him a sandwich, a can of juice, and a candy bar. “Just don’t fall asleep,” she told him, shutting up her pannier again. “Okay, Hawk, let’s walk!”
They waved goodbye to Martin, slipped away from Elroy’s house, and headed north up Carlaw. They soon cut over to Logan, then walked north toward Gerrard.
“Cheer up, Hawk, Panny told him. “Sure, it seems impossible, but you’ll get your glove back. Once the police break up that gang, all their loot will go back to the owners. And we might even help the cops crack down on those creeps.”
“Yeah, I hope so,” Hawk mumbled. “But I don’t know if I can stand watching Elroy play with my glove and act as if he’s owned it from day one.”
“You don’t want to worry about that right now. Save some of your energy for spying on this bunch, and for class. By the way, when are you coming in with us?”
“I don’t know. It depends on my dad, I guess.”
Panny wheeled along for a while without speaking, then suddenly turned to Hawk. “You’re not scared of our class, are you?”
Hawk kicked at the sidewalk, grunted, then turned a fierce look on her, “Of course not! I’ve got good tests. I can do that work. The only reason I messed up was because Mrs. MacWhinney hated me.”
“Oh yeah? And I guess you thought she was the cream of the crop? You did your best work for her?”
Hawk frowned and shook his head. “Well, it’s true I didn’t like her — but I did some good work for her too!”
“Don’t worry! Ms. Calloway and Ms. Clarke are fair. They’ll give you credit for your good work. And they’ll help you. But don’t mess around with them!”
For some reason what she was saying irritated Hawk. “Why would I mess around? Anyway, I don’t even know if I want to go to your class. Everybody thinks they’re great in there because they’re all so gifted. I don’t care about that, but they just better not make fun of me!”
Panny smiled at him. “Oh, that’s what you’re afraid of, is it? Well, I think you’re tough enough to handle it. And I don’t mean in a stupid way…. But look, I’ve got to take off. Chew-Boy needs a walk by now. You’re okay on your own, aren’t you?
“I’m not a baby, Panny. I know all these streets. I know all of Riverdale. And my dad took me around the city quite a few times. I might even know it better than you.”
“Okay. I’ll try to find you tomorrow after school. Then we can decide what to do about Elroy. I sure hope Martin is all right back there.”
“Yeah, so do I.”
Panny zoomed off, picking up speed as she wheeled away. Once she’d disappeared amid the traffic, Hawk began his jog, which soon turned into a sprint — he knew it was late, and he’d decided to go straight home. He didn’t want any questions from his mum.
When he got to his own street, his breath was coming fast, and his chest hurt a little, but he pressed on, and after circling the Dumpsters, he caught sight of his mum pacing up and down beside the taxi, her scowl lingering even as he trotted up to her. “Where were you?” she demanded. “You were supposed to meet me on the Danforth!” At that moment he was very glad he’d made the extra effort.
“I’m not that late, Mum,” he reassured her. “We played a bit longer than usual and I helped Mr. Rizzuto in the store.”
“Don’t you lie to me, Hawk. An Ojibway boy doesn’t lie to his parents. I just talked to Mr. Rizzuto and he hasn’t seen you since this morning.”
Hawk stopped in his tracks, and thought very quickly. He smiled at his mother, moving closer and speaking in a placating “kid” voice that he seldom used. “Well, you see, Mum, I met this girl in the gifted class who wants to help me when I go in there. It’ll make it much easier for me. She’s really smart, and she knows all the kids. I was sure you’d want me to talk to her.”
“Oh, yeah. Where’d you meet her?”
“Outside of Mr. Rizzuto’s store.” (Hawk was thinking how much easier it was to fib when your fibs were a version of the truth.)
His mother seemed to relax. She put her arm around him. “Okay, I hope she can help you. And I hope you listen. You hungry? Mr. Selim sent out some butter chicken.”
“Wow! That’s great. I’m starving.”
A few minutes later they were sitting in the taxi, feasting on nan and the (slightly cold) butter chicken.
“There ar
e a few things I want to talk over with you, Hawk. I don’t want you to get upset about anything I say, but you’ve got to listen carefully, otherwise you might not do the right thing, and all my plans will be shot.”
“Sure, Mum, I understand. Am I still going to see Dad tomorrow? Is he trying to get me into Panny’s class? She’s the girl who’s been helping me. I think I can be okay in there, Mum, and I really wanna get back to school. She says they have good teachers there — not like Mrs. MacWhinney — and so many ways to help you learn things.”
His mother didn’t answer immediately, but gave him a sharp look. She paused and seemed to be considering something.
“All right, son. But I have to tell you — you know that you’ll be going to see your father tomorrow. He wants to talk to you. He went over to speak with the board today after I did, to try to get you back into school, into the class you want.”
“Great!”
“But there’s something I have to remind you of. Just in case your father tries to spin things around. You’re my son. I have custody, and you’re bound to stay with me. Just remember that. Remember that your dad has no legal right to take you back, even though he has a right to see you. So you tell him so, you lay it on the line for him, if he tries to get you to stay with him!”
Hawk shook his head. Why was she going on about this? “You know I want to stay with you, Mum. You don’t have to worry about it. I’ll tell Dad I want to stay with you.”
His mother smiled and looked relieved. She reached over, pulled him close, and gave him a hug. “Just remember you said that, son. I know you’ll never regret it. We’ve been real happy together, haven’t we?”
Hawk felt weighed down, but he managed a smile. “Sure, Mum.”
Storm Cloud nodded and took a large sip from her container of coffee.
“I sure wish we could get a place with a stove,” Hawk told her. “You have to drink coffee that’s always cold. I eat cold food a lot of the time. We don’t ever have hot water. I’m fed up living in this cab.”