Date: Sun, 6 Jul 2003 05:49:35 -0400 From: C. E. Jordan Subject: BROOKLYN BLUES: TYSON & SHAWN Part 1 Brooklyn Blues: Tyson and Shawn by C.E. Jordan zedzero5@hotmail.com Part 1 Tyson stared down from his bedroom window into the courtyard of his apartment building. Two floors below, a dry Summer wind whipped litter around the dusty plaza where Shawn, nearly fifteen, was hanging out on a green-painted bench with two older teens, a boy and a girl. A scrap of paper and a plastic bag floated into the air then slowly drifted back down onto a different area of the decrepit courtyard. Shawn abruptly got up and started walking away. His bench-mate, a sleepy-eyed boy nicknamed 'China' called out after him, "Hey nigga, where you off to?" "I dunno man... away from here." Ty saw all this from above. He continued watching even as Shawn sauntered off, one long stride followed by a slight hesitation as the other leg caught up. That characteristic small roll of Shawn's butt echoed sensually through the body of the young boy observing him. The rhythmic movement fascinated Ty; he breathed a little faster and his young body felt 'funny'. The twelve-year-old continued watching with keen interest everything the dark teen did. At the entrance to the compound Shawn stopped and leaned against one of the big metal gates. His hand moved under the armless red T-shirt as he slowly caressed his flat belly. Ty pushed his old-fashioned round glasses up his nose a bit and leaned forward onto the windowsill. He could now clearly see the several inches of matching red boxers that showed above the waist of Shawn's blue jeans. The pants had sagged down far enough so that the cleft of the fourteen-year-old's behind was visible beneath the thin material of his boxers. Another kid walked up to him. Shawn's mop of short dreadlocks shook as he greeted the new boy with a brief nod. A quick complex handshake followed, and Ty knew something had passed from one hand to the other. Probably a joint, he thought. A few of the kids who spent lots of time hanging out down there in the courtyard either sold or bought drugs. Ty knew for sure that Shawn sold grass every now and again, nothing heavy, probably just enough to buy nice clothes, new sneakers, and such; seemed the kid always needed to look 'fresh'. Now that he had the money he needed, Shawn grew bored and headed back to his apartment. He looked up suddenly, and for a moment was staring directly at Ty. Light glinted off the round glasses as Tyson attempted to pull back from view, but it was too late and he froze as Shawn's amused eyes locked on to his. He'd been caught watching. Again. A sardonic smile and a slight flick of Shawn's thick dreadlocks acknowledged the younger boy's gaze. For nearly a year now, Shawn had been Ty's neighbor in the large, shabby, Brooklyn apartment building. They lived only two doors from each other on the same floor, yet, apart from a brief hi, or an occasional nod of the head as they passed each other in the hall, the two boys had never really had a conversation. Nevertheless, Ty had developed an obsession for his handsome young neighbor. Shawn's hip-hop style of clothing looked so cool. Extra-thick eyelashes any girl would envy surrounded his deep black eyes, and his skin was smooth and dark, like polished ebony. Tyson was pale in comparison. Each day he watched Shawn's every move from the safety of his window. And now, he realized, the teen had begun to notice. **'Maybe... maybe if I can meet him... really meet him and talk.... maybe we could be friends... if only...'* But Ty had already made a decision. He ran to the front door, and hesitated only for a moment. His mind raced: **'Mom said not to leave the apartment... but she also wanted me to get the mail from our mailbox in the lobby... I have to leave the apartment to get it... and... Shawn always runs up the stairs rather than waiting for the elevator... I'm going to run down the stairs... maybe I'll meet him while he's coming up... or something...'* Soon Ty was making his way into the quiet dark stairwell. He stopped confused on the first floor landing, **'what the heck am I doing? What am I gonna say if I see him?'* And his heart started thumping even harder when he heard footsteps coming fast up the stairs. Before he could move again, Shawn's mop of hair appeared from around the corner. "What the fuck?" Shawn halted, startled to find someone loitering in the shadows. "Who's there? Is that you Ty? What the fuck you standing there for, man? Damn! I thought you was a mugger." Tyson tried to say something, but only a squeak escaped his throat. Shawn, looking angry and suddenly dangerous, strode right up to the shorter boy. He kept bumping his shoulder and chest into Ty forcing him steadily backward until he was slammed breathless against a shadowy corner wall. Tyson's glasses slid so far down his sweaty nose that the older boy was looking directly into his alarmed eyes. "You know, kid," Shawn growled right into Ty's face, "I could've got scared and popped you with my gun." While tightly grasping Ty's neck with his left hand, the teen groped in his own right pocket, as if to get a weapon. He was practically pressing onto the young boy's body and staring steadily into the wide hazel eyes. Tyson was totally overpowered by Shawn's very presence; he wanted to run away, but at the same time he fought an urge to grab the boy in front of him and pull his body even tighter against himself. He felt faint, "I... I..." he stammered, "I didn't mean anything... I..." His frightened pubescent voice squeaked way higher than normal. (To be continued...)