A Matter of Conviction

(It is a mild spring night in Harlem, and we can hear music on the air, drifting from the open windows of the tenements to find its way into the street. There is a peaceful feel to the block. We hear occasional laughter, an occasional baby crying from one of the apartments. But it is an idle night, heavy with the magic of spring, because spring comes to Harlem too, and the people of Harlem know her headiness, know her rare smile, know the beauty in her eyes and on her mouth. The Thunderbirds are sitting on one of the tenement stoops, seven of them: Big Dom, Diablo, Botch, Bud, Reardon, Aposto and Concho. Danny Di Pace is with the Thunderbirds, too. The boys are passing around a cheap bottle of wine. The girls with them do not accept the bottle, not because they don’t drink but only because they don’t want to drink on the front stoop, in public. Besides, the girls are playing it rather cool this evening. They have heard about the impending rumble between their boys and the Horsemen, and they know that the cause of the dispute is a fourteen-year-old slut named Rosie who is Spanish and probably diseased. Carol is particularly offended because she and Diablo are supposed to be going steady, and she understands that Diablo hasn’t been exactly reticent with that Spanish pig, either. In fact, Carol has not spoken to Diablo since she learned about the incident, and she is the one who sets the pace now for the other girls. The boys play the game in their own way. If the girls want to be cool, so be it. They can be equally cool. And the wine they drink, thirty-nine cents a quart, helps them to ignore the girls. It also helps them to drop their usual attitude of caution. For if there is one noticeable trait about all gang members, it is their constant vigilance. Walking down the block, sitting on a stoop, idling on a corner, their eyes constantly flick the streets, looking, watching, waiting for any sudden attack. Tonight their usual wariness is not present. Aided by the wine, drinking in retaliation against the coolness of the girls, they have dropped their guard — and this can be a fatal error in Harlem.

The attack comes swiftly and unexpectedly.