SUMMER ON MONTEBELLO

Chapter Eighteen

One afternoon when I came home after gallivanting in town all day, I met a crowd of kids in front of James and Tom. They were mumbling something about someone getting shot. I moved closer.

"There was blood on the street," one boy said.

"I don't know if he's dead or alive,' another said.

I pushed through the crowd quickly. "Hey. What's going on here?" James stood up. He looked sad. "What's the matter with you? You look like someone died."

"It's Harry," he said. He could barely speak. "H-He got shot."

"What!" I couldn't believe what I just heard. "Say that again. I hope you are joking, dude."

James shook his head sadly. "I wish I were. He went after those hoods for his chucks. We couldn't stop him. Did it really happen, Kelvin? Some dude in their gang shot him."

I stood there speechless. I couldn't believe what I was hearing. I didn't want to believe it. Who would shoot Harry and why? Why would they shoot him over some chucks? This was a bad dream. I thought about Harry's parents and whether they knew. "Are you serious?" I asked, still shocked at the bad news. "When did it happen?"

"Half an hour ago," James said. He pointed down the street. 'Just down there."

"Did you see who did it?"

"No. I didn't. They ran away before we got there. I found Harry in a pool of blood. He was still alive so I called for an ambulance. They took him to the hospital. The police came, too. They took a report from me."

"Which Hospital did they take him to?"

James told me and we took the first bus over there. We met Harry's parents there. His mom was in tears and so was his father.

"How is Harry?" I asked them, expecting to hear good news.

His mother just gazed at me. She could barely speak. "He didn't make it," she cried. The tears were running down her face like a stream. "Harry is dead!"

It was like the world had stopped spinning. Everything went silent. I looked at James. He looked back at me. We were both speechless. We couldn't believe our ears either. It was like a nightmare. Tears started running down my cheeks and James', too.

"Can we see him?" I asked politely. His mom pointed at the room where he was and James and I walked slowly over.

We did not say a word to each other. As we entered the room, there was a feeling of calmness that came over me. James felt it, too. It was like Harry was there with us. Not on the bed, but with us. Or so I thought. We gazed down at him for awhile. It was as if he was at peace with himself. He had that look about him. We said goodbye to him in our own way. Before we left, I was praying they were wrong. That Harry wasn't dead. He was just sleeping. And he would get up any moment now. I waited, but nothing happened. I had come to the realization that my best friend was dead. He was gone for good. He wasn't coming back. I sniffed a few times and so did James. Still, we didn't say a word to each other. What was there to say, anyway? It was better not said.

We left the room as quietly as we came in. We stayed an hour at the hospital with the family, and then we left. At home, the news got around. Everyone was sad to hear what had happened to Harry.

"Is it true what I heard about Harry?" Vern asked. He met us near the nursing home, on the other side of the street.

"It's true," I said. "We went to see him at the hospital."

Vern punched his fist into the palm of his hand. "I warned him, but he wouldn't listen." He punched his hand again. "Why did he go after them? It's his fault that he died."

"No!" I stopped him. "It isn't his fault. Harry didn't ask to fight. Those hoods started it. Then they gave him a black eye and took his chucks. What's a guy suppose to do, huh?"

"Guess what happened to him," Vern said in a stern voice "He's dead over a pair of nunchakus."

I nodded.

For as long as I had known Harry, he'd had a big ego. When he got the black eye, his ego was hurt. He wanted to show us that he wasn't scared of anyone. He wanted revenge. I guess that's why he went to fight. That's why he is dead now. Not just because he wanted his nunchakus either. It was my duty to find out who killed my best friend. I wouldn't stop until I did.

"Saying it was his fault isn't going to bring him back," I said to Vern.

He agreed. "I didn't mean anything by what I said. I just knew how he was. That's why I said what I said."

"I know how stubborn Harry was," I said.

"He is dead. Leave him alone," James said.

We sat there silent. I remembered all that Harry and I did for fun while I sat there. How we chased after girls at school. How he and I built our first snow house in the large clearing near my house. We had so much fun together. I was going to miss him terrible. I sighed heavily. It was as if life didn't have much meaning to it now. Life had cheated Harry. Unfair, I thought. Very unfair

"Hey guys."

We looked up. Tom stood there looking sad. We just gazed at him. I guess he'd heard about Harry, I thought.

"I heard what happened. Sorry Kelvin. I know you two were best friends. I have to tell you guys something I heard." He hesitated. "I don't know if I should say it."

"Go on," I urged him. "Say it."

"Well... Okay... I heard something about Harry. It's not good."

"What is it?" I asked.

"Pretty bad stuff," he continued. "You guys want to hear it, do you?"

"Would you tell us," James insisted.

"Don't leave out anything," Vern added.

"Okay. I'll tell you," Tom said. "I heard that Harry was in a gang."

"You joking," I said, with disbelief. I was shocked too. I never knew Harry was in any gang. He never told me. That helped to explain why he was missing so often. "Are you positive?"

"Not really. I heard it from some other gang members."

I was skeptical. I didn't want to believe my best friend had anything to do with gangs. "I don't believe you, Tom. You're making it up. Harry would never get himself involved with gangs."

Tom shrugged. "I knew you wouldn't," he said, "so I brought proof." He pulled out a small object. It was something I gave Harry when I moved to Montebello. It was a rabbit's foot, for good luck. Harry told me he had lost it.

"Harry's lucky rabbit foot. Where did you find it?" I asked Tom. "Harry told me he lost it."

"One of the boys in the gang gave it to me," he said.

"Harry must have lost it and they found it, right," I said.