I modify his name. Robert becomes Roberta. As in, he catches like a girl. And not stopping there, I modify once more. The chant is adopted.
Minutes pass and then the bell rings.
The lunch falls to the ground as kids line up to go inside. Robert, his face red, runs and picks it up, then joins the end of the line. When I taught high school in South Central L.A., I used to boast to hardened Los Angelenos, I was raised in the mildest part of the Midwest . When I lived in New York City at the height of its homicide count, I d say, We have fewer corpses in the small towns . As these memories float to the surface, I wonder if I was only talking to myself.