Always Outnumbered, Always Outgunned (Socrates Fortlow 1)
“Darryl asked with little interest. He and his only friend, Socrates Fortlow, were sitting on a redwood bench in Carver Park in Watts.“She didn’t say nuthin’.” Socrates was remembering his mother and how he was so surprised that she had gotten older even in his dream. Her hair, the little he could see of it under her Sunday hat, had gone white and there was a heaviness to her face.“That’s why I thought she was real,” he said out loud.“Say what?” Darryl looked around nervously at the ragged trees....“I mean,” said the ex-convict, “when she died, when I was in jail, she was only fifty-two. But she was way older than that in the dream. It was like she never died and just grew older and older.”“Huh,” the boy said. In the few months since he’d left home to come live with Socrates he’d shot up four inches but hadn’t gained a pound. He was long and bony, almost as tall as the hefty, hard-muscled Socrates.“Ain’t you listenin’ t’me, boy?” Socrates glanced in the direction that Darryl kept looking.MoreLess
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