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Little Killers

Part Three

We woke up before the moms woke us up the next morning because I guess somebody finally called the cops about the stiff in the alley. There were cop cars flashing their lights and an ambulance siren and a whole bunch of guys milling around down there. We leaned out the window to watch.

They had just pulled the dead guy onto a stretcher, and I was thrilled to see that they really did draw that white outline on the concrete to show where the body had been.

"We better get dressed," Rico said. "Cops'll be here any minute to question us."

I froze. "Us? Why us?"

"Just like on TV," he said. "They talk to anybody who might have seen or heard something."

"But what do we tell them?"

"We say we might have heard something while we was watching cartoons, but we thought it was firecrackers. We didn't look to see. We were just watching Spongebob on Nick."

"Okay," I agreed. "Watching Spongebob."

The doorbell rang. We hurried to put on our shirts and pants. I heard my mom say, "Do you know what time it is?"

A man's voice said, "Sorry, ma'am, but it's a murder investigation. Down in the alley. We have to question everybody who might have seen or heard anything."

"Well, we didn't see nothing, and we didn't hear nothing. When did it happen?"

"We're not sure yet."

"Well, we got home around seven, and it was just the same as usual. Men calling their girlfriends sluts, and wives calling their husbands assholes, and babies screaming, and all the rest you hear when you live in a dump like this across the alley from a dump like that."

Rico's mother chimed in. "It ain't a great neighborhood."

"Nothing that might have been gunshots?"

"Not last night, anyway," my mother answered.

The cop thanked her and left.

Rico's mother called out, "Rico! Jean Paul! Get your asses in here."

Since we were all dressed so early, they knew we'd been listening to the conversation with the cop. "You boys know anything about a murder?" We shook our heads.

"You hear any gunshots from the alley before we got home?" my mother asked.

"We were just watching Spongebob," Rico said, putting on his most innocent face.

"We might of heard something, but it just sounded like firecrackers," I added. My innocent face was not nearly as good as Rico's, but I hoped it was good enough.

"If those cops come back when we're not here, don't even tell them about the firecrackers. We don't need nothing to do with no cops."

Our teacher probably would have said it was pretty bad grammar, but pretty good advice.

..........

We spotted Fat Ralphie on our way to school, shaking down some other kid. He spotted us, but we ran away in time. Blubber boy don't run too fast. We figured he'd be mad not to get our lunch money, but we could take a different way home.

Ms. Leibowitz, our teacher, was pretty nice, and tried hard to make us smart, but she didn't have us the whole day. Sometimes we went to art, where we painted pictures, or music, where we sang stupid old songs. That day, though, we went to computer lab, with Mr. Douglas. We was supposed to be doing research on the internet about great Americans for a report Ms. Leibowitz assigned, but most of the kids were playing video games. Mr. Douglas just sat there up front, not giving a shit.

Rico got Booker T. Washington, which he thought wasn't fair because Rico wasn't even black. I got Susan B. Anthony, which was worse, because she was a girl. I printed the Wikipedia page, and then tried to find out something about my gun.

It was a Beretta 3032 Tomcat, and not hard to find on the internet because it said "3032 Tomcat" right on it. The first thing I found out was that it was hanging behind the chest of drawers with the safety off. I would change that when we got home. I also figured out how to see if there were any bullets left in it.

The next kind of interesting thing that happened that day was later, when Ms. Leibowitz gave me a pass to the boy's room. I really didn't have to pee, but I had one of those boners that won't go away, and I was thinking if I got called up to the blackboard all the girls would see it, so I better yank it some until it went down.

When I got to the boy's room, I saw one of the stalls was closed, so I figured somebody was taking a shit, but I didn't smell no shit, so I was curious. I went into the next stall, and stood on the toilet to have a look over the top of the wall. Well, there was Danny Neill and Anton Jackson, and Danny was fucking little Anton hard as can be. Both of them lived in the same foster home, with a big bunch of other kids and Mrs. Kennedy, who was a drunk. Nobody at Social Services seemed to care.

"Harder," I yelled, getting their attention. "Shit, you can fuck him harder than that!"

Danny looked up, saw me, and said, "If you tell, Jean Paul, I'll kill you."

"No you won't," I replied, "because you're just a fucking faggot."

Something had to happen, and it did. Danny offered me Anton to fuck. Anton was just a fourth grader, but he had one of those beautiful perky black asses. Yeah, Anton is black, and you know how nice black asses can be. I didn't hold nothing against Danny, but I had a chance to take advantage, so I did.

"What if I want to fuck you, Danny? You gonna bend over to keep my mouth shut?"

I was entirely surprised when he started crying.

"Don't send me back to that school, Jean Paul. I'll do anything. You can fuck me all you want. Just say the time and place, and promise not to tell."

I might have fucked him right then and there, and Anton too, but my boner had gone away. Boners are funny that way. "Meet me after school at Yogi's," I instructed him. Yogi is the Indian guy who owns the corner store. His real name is not Yogi. That's just what we call him, but not to his face. Danny kind of nodded. I took a minute to pee, because you always should pee when you got the chance, and went back to class.

..........

Me and Rico got to Yogi's first, and looked through the newspaper to see what we could find out about the stiff in the alley, but they didn't have it. He was just another dirtbag got himself killed, and they didn't bother with those. You had to be at least a little special to make the paper.

I had told Rico about Danny and Anton on the way to Yogi's. As usual, he was way too nice. He told me he kind of liked Danny, and felt sorry for him having to live at Mrs. Murphy's with all those other kids -- and, anyway, if I wanted a fuck, he wanted it to be him. I hate it when he does that.

"Well," I said, improvising, "what if I make him suck off the both of us? We could put our dicks together and he could suck us both at the same time. That might be fun."

He agreed it might be fun, so when Danny showed up -- without Anton -- we took him back to the apartment.

Danny is Irish, I guess, but not the redheaded kind with the freckles. He has curly black hair, and very white skin. Getting a good look at him, I decided his face would look really good on a girl. Anyway, I wanted to see him naked, so when we got to the apartment, the first thing I told him to do was get naked. He started to unbutton his shirt, but Rico, naturally, had a better idea.

"Wait," he said. "I want a real strip show." He dug around in his mother's CDs, came out with an old Madonna, put it in our really old boom box, and played "What it feels like to be a girl." Danny started dancing, and he was a pretty good dancer. He also started stripping, and it was very sexy, even though he was crying again before he had his pants down. By the time he slipped down his underpants, there were tears all over his face. I knew Rico would fall for that. Shit, I fell for it myself.

We laid him down on our bed, and Rico licked at his tears. Rico likes the taste of tears. I played with his dick, which probably was about the same size as mine, and just as hairless. I was going to suck on it, but then I wondered if he'd washed it after it was up Anton's ass, so I didn't. I licked one of his nipples, though, and put my hand between his legs so I could feel up his ass. He felt really nice, and his body was as nice a boy body as you are likely to feel.

It was very cool, me and Rico still all dressed with a naked boy to play with, but he was still crying. I said, "It's okay, Danny. I'd never tell on you, no matter what."

Danny didn't stop crying, though, so I said, "Come on, Rico, let's get naked." And we did. And we cuddled him between us. And I was feeling bad for taking advantage, and I wasn't even thinking about the gun hanging behind the chest of drawers that didn't even have the safety on. I was as hard as can be, and so was Rico, but Danny had gone soft, and stayed soft even after he stopped crying.

"Never," he said, "never ever let them send you to St. Anselm's."

"What's that?" Rico asked him.

He stared up at the ceiling a little. Then he said, "It's hell."

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