Drugs, Zen, and the art of Chinese Handball

A killer game of Chinese handball brisk fall, day before The start of 6th Grade. The first hour five of us ‘’trip” and Gerard Murphy, T.C. O’Shay ,Me ,‘’my Boy” Robbie , were just getting warmed up. The sweat was starting to dampen our polo shirts, the ball hot, palms of our hands started burning,  red from it's fast furious return. This was more than a Game this was ‘’Political” .

12 year old ”Politics” are Serious, because Your emotions are ahead of your intellect. You cant express any of it to your parents, cause your already on to the next thing by then,.Until whatever it was rolled around again in your day’s . We started about noon, by 3 I had skinned knee’s two skinned knuckles , Robbie was

laughing and teasing ”Trip” cause he Fell not ”Tripped”trying to return robbies ‘’leftie’ ’Fast balls. My ponytail was the first afro on the Posh Upper East  side. From the sweat,

 Gerard was putting a band aid on his finger from a nick in the sidewalk. Concentration was not to be messed with we were all in a trance. We’d all been playing

about 4 years. So we slammed and switched up our signature strokes the game was getting good we all knew eachothers moves learned from each other, since baby’s, and that what s made it fun that we’d mastered all the killer moves,Harlem ,they played with a paddle and a black professional Handball ,I never caught on,rather play punch Ball.

I still  wondered why they called it chinese Handball,I couldnt see ChineseEmperor's with their beautiful colorful handwoven  silk robes ordering a Pink 'Spalding'a Vanilla egg Cream and 2 Stick pretzels.And where was the egg in the egg Cream?

We all had out own Political Reasons for wanting to win to. I wanted to win because I was tomboy’Royal’ ’and The Testosterone level of the Boys  doubled from the summer before, so they were getting stronger, so me the innovator ‘’tough ‘’guy of the ‘’Fight’

’club” was out. I had to use my Mind .Couldn’t riskbeating them up anymore ,or a punch in the chest. .Plus no ‘’White kid” is gonna beat me at any game. Bike riding ,Iceskating, Skateboarding, noon chukka -sticks. No way!” ’I’m from Harlem’ ’I got to Represent!

Robbies reasons were he was infatuated with me since we first me. We were Best friend s right away, His father would be Drunk on the court yard bench, his mother a Judy Garland clone with booze, a hanging cigarette and Five more kids.So Robbie would come and whistle up softly ,and throw a little pebble,not to wake my moms in the next room. But

I’m sure she knew because he had to catwalk, and hold on , past her window to get to mine. In my window with his olderbrothers shirt frayed and double cuffed ,

I’d grab on ,with all my might ,Pulling, his flopping Brown hair , baby fat into the window, pulling him in the window Past his wide smile.as we tried to giggle and laugh softly,The Biggest challenge in the Universe.As he thumped to the floor. The Landing was always a Calamity and a Surprize somehow. No matter how we tried for a quiet soft descent I realise

 now as an Adult, There’s no ‘’Gracefully‘’in’’Breaking into’’ a high rise apt window. Head first,thats why they call them  'Highrise'And the Louder he thumped ,the more we giggled..  we were shocked every time it happened.

 we giggled repressed till our stomachs bloted,and Laughed till Our stomachs cramped.We’d watch TV.hed do his Imitation of don Adams on Get smart Id my REDD Foxx but  from the Hood as a Dope dealer not giving junkies any Credit.holding my heart.looking up.

Eat Sandwiches at 3am., an be kids, It was the only place we could be kids .The world wasn’t starting off kind in our childhood.We thought the 'Lumps' we fun ,a challenge

I’d always leave my window cracked, in case I dosed off, but I never seemed to, soon as I’d hear that pebble and whistle ,I was right there, head out the window matching robbies grin.

Knowing we were about to get away with something all our own. Seeing him smiling in the moonlight, me Tugging a away.The more his father and mother yelled ‘’Nigger” to me ’”to us” especially since he liked to dress 'Black' expencive silk pants,beaver caps, we Shared equal, servings of 'Nigger' on a different plate.The more they fed us the Closer we got.  the Closer we Grew, My parents were divorced,

I knew the mentality of his father kind of, as my father was a ”Union’ man” to in the construction industry all’ Hard Hat” Stereotypes”Robbie had his Loyalty to prove which I already knew.It came with his friendship and his blood brother love from dayone. Anyone hanging from a rope by the neck and is waiting for me to cut them down, has Loyalty to you. That and many lump for me raised his height.

 Trip was about beating his brother Gerard, who was smarter ,but all the girls like ‘’trips ‘’Paul McCartney look alike looks, with his black sleepy bedroom eyes, long eye lashes and lanky frame. He didn’t Care or the Praise at all. His thing was acting out, being crazier than the next kid, I’d hear stories.

 Him at the pool, diving off a cement embankment into the pool,  on the roof messing around. That’s 24 story’s high.Stupid stuff. And TC. O’shay. He was the tallest of the bunch .a big Goofy smile, blond an lanky everybody beat him up, especially me. Tall Lanky but couldn’t fight for shit. He had to beat us at  Handball just not to get beat to death after any one of us lost.

 The wall holding up our ‘’Project” colored co-op in a World of white buildings,  white people, white door men buildings. Stood out like a hand full of Food stamps next to real money.Stood out more than My color,or Robbies Purple Silk pants.

 It was and embarrassment . An ”imitation” high rise to us kid’s. Compared to the other buildings. Now ‘’The slam ‘’that was Gerard’s famous move, he was the ”bookworm’ of the lot. BAP!,, here it comes. Damn it! He got me out again! He was killing me!damn! focus.. focus! Id say to myself.

Hard with this stupid ‘’Training” bra.. straps cutting..Training for what!? Where’s my undershirt!.The ‘’spin” was Robbie’s he was ‘’leftie” so when it came flying at you , BAP! just as you Swung….to late back to the end of the line .

Robbies in the 1st. Box the ‘’king” box batting a way ..its going to take awhile to get him out of that spot! .Trip’s favorite was” the slice”, you cut the ball just right so when it bounced and you swung ,it did a pause an pirouetted backwards back to robbies left. knocking you out, straight at you from the wall. 

To low to return on the one bounce which is the art of Chinese handball. My famous claim to fame was the slice dead ball combination of a slice but it was so low that when it hit the wall it just rolled towards you, also,Impossible to return.

 We shooed away our parents, forfeited dinner, missed our favorite TV shows. To keep playing. Even robbies mother left the ”N” word out of her Vocabulary when she came'Tipsy' looking for him.. Robbie never did give up that spot, he smashed us ,Ran us Ragged. See he was not only a leftie he was ambidextrous, and Double Jointed so he give the ball a good smack,bent his thum backwards,  turn his back on you and you couldn’t see what was happenning, after he served the ball.

When he Won,' I'  Won..

after 8 hours of playing all you could do was go upstairs, wash up, fall in the bed , fall asleep on the way down, Germantown Far away from Harlem, 5 years past the Culture shock, a few good fights beating up kids, and here we all are at almost 12 years old.

 We stole from the stores in the Neighborhood ,robbed bicycle rooms of the rich white folks penthouse apt. sold them Traded them to the  kids on 125 the street in Harlem  Projects. And Busted many a Pedophile doormen trying to rape me. An Robbie riding shot gun throughout. Right on cue.

My Body guard. Never missed a cue. Never missed a Mark, that 007 knife ,or the little 25 automatic, a few years later, aimed right at the guy's ‘’Adult’’ weapon, and Slick  Ideas.  Boxers clinging to his  pale ankles. As we took the wallet ,Robbie would  put his finger up to his

mouth ,to symbol ’’Shush’’ and I toss the wallet back empty ,and Blow a kiss, to a shocked red face, as we dashed.Laughing like hell,Knowing it was going to  be Pizza and Ice cream we were going to eat good. 

many a punch, many a lead pipe grazing, Robbies head his I yanked him at the last split sec.We grabbed, ran ,stole, and terrorized, always getting him in and Pulling him out, all at one time. My Irish, PuertoRican, black Gang of 8 little hooligans clipped chains. Faked, conned ,all on my instructions.

But this day a Break from Robbing bikes, and selling our wares in Harlem, Hitching busses, skate boarding, and testing our needed skills, of  fending for ourselves. That Game the end of Summer, our last game as a ”Group’ ’ of ”kids” with childhood fears, phobias, and

fantasy’s of the World. Little did we know then we were going to have to go it alone, That Brisk chill made us feel invincibleAlive like it was just for us. Life itself created just for us. Butthat Brisk chill had a Hard message. And we missed it ,we didn’t read our Lifes Forecast that Day, it was hidden in the anemic barren trees, and the cold, hard, concrete we scrapped our knuckles on. The chill in the air that September was our

Fate of a Cold Hard Life, It was the end of us as ‘’Kids” ThatDay. That year I’d see us playing that Championship game, to Puberty in my mind, when I go to school, and come home. The other kids in

the Building did to. We spoke about that game, It was part of us for ’’Life’’When I visit my mother I look that wall and I see all of us playing that game. Yelling ‘’no fair’’’ ’Do over’’’ ’You see that ? he was standing on the line man!’ ’FOUL’’!

Trip died at 31 of AIDS,

I got a six year federal Prison Sentence. At 17

Gerard got shot gunned in the Face, at 28 down

south by some rednecks over a dope deal gone bad.

 Robbies older brother became a male hooker, to support his dope habit

his younger sister a Hoe in Spanish Harlem.

Trips sister married A Mob guy that had two black kids she didn’t

know about, screwed a black girlfriend of mine, Day before their wedding day. TC O’ Shay got a hooked with up civil Servant Job from his Sadistic cop father. Stayed and retired young. Never married.

 Robbie died at 34 from HIV

I saw his sister at a daycare center.we’d all lost touch I called him up talk in indianpolis daily, I was the only one that could convince him to come to NYC. to be treated at the AIDS inst.Something inside felt bring  him  Home.

They put him in the Hosp right away.I used  Albert Einstein as an  excuse. Medical college finals. true . But I had to remember him as we were, kids. Little” raga

muffins’ ’ I had to remember  that when I’d dream  and see Robbie in my Dream,no matter where I was out of the state ,out the Country,  a few weeks later I see Robbie. It  comforted me.

My lil brother, Two years my Junior. His mother thanked me, and apologized for all the name calling. Said she was drinking at thetime.. I wanted to say, we were ”kids” at the time. But I let itgo. I didn’t care ,I just wanted Robbie  ’’Home’’I knew no one in the World could  have brought  him back.

 All  I know is when I sleep in my old room, I lay down close my eyes waiting to hear the little pebble on the window, and robbies soft whistle.

 I see him looking up, Smiling bright as the Moonlight Then, and only then can I go to sleep.