Ben Chaney - Son of Sedonia

Jogun couldn’t hear a thing over his throbbing heartbeat. Sobs choked in the back of his throat. Then a sharp wail ripped through the room. His baby brother’s. Jogun raised the gun and pushed back the hammer with both thumbs. He squeezed the trigger.

ON TOP OF a low island chain of concrete apartments, Matteo could almost see everything. Didn’t matter that he was short, sick, and weak. Countless hazy miles of the living, breathing Slums surrounded him. The cracked, sun-drenched streets. Tin roofs and awnings sticking out from cheap brick apartments. Gutted spacecraft and hull fragments turned into neighborhoods. And a dizzying network of scaffolding, catwalks, and plank bridges tying it all together. He grumbled at the mess. Squinted further east through the early afternoon heat.

Towering bright and proud above the Slums, Sedonia City glittered in silence. Matteo’s big brown eyes traced the ivory skyscrapers at the center and carved each of them into memory. Early rush-hour traffic flew high overhead, to and from the center. Where do they go? He saw one ship had a cluster of glowing, blue-green engines on its belly. He watched it shrink into the skyline until his eyes watered. But as his gaze drifted down, his nose crinkled. The Border. A half-mile high, concrete barrier that separated City from Slum. He raised his hand in front of his face, blocking everything under the Border from view. Smiled.

The sting of the soccer ball came without warning, slapping him in the face. It knocked him off his tiptoes, down into the dust of the rooftop. Against the pain, he pushed himself up on shaky, bony arms. Realized he couldn’t breathe. Panic flushed through him as he fumbled at the clear plastic tube under his nose and pressed the release. Cool mint air rushed in. The airway relaxed.

A group of kids laughed and pointed at him. Oki, the biggest one, was beside himself. The asshole had hit his growth spurt much earlier than his gang but still swelled with baby fat. Yellow teeth glinted in his big mouth.

“H-HA! Hey Wheezy! Hey uh…you wanna pass that back over here? Gotta finish our game,” Oki sneered.

The patchwork, semi-flat ball rolled to Matteo’s feet. Head throbbing, he stared at it. Clenched his fists. He wanted to hurl it back at Oki’s head. Maybe bust out some of those crooked teeth. But the results of that choice played through his mind like a memory. Oki and the other thugs would chase him until he ran totally out of breath, then put another beating on him. He’d barely survived the last one.

Carefully, Matteo shifted to his skinned knees and pushed himself up.

“Pick it up,” Oki said. Matteo shot a glare at them. Softened when he noticed another familiar face in the entourage, peeking from behind Oki like an anxious mouse. Raia. The cute neighbor girl that lived a few family-boxes down in his home stack. She never looked at him…at least not for long. Her blue almond eyes always glanced away when he noticed her gawking. The airtank. The tube…me. People always looked.

But here on the roof, she didn’t look away. She stared hard along with the others, waiting for him to move. Matteo found himself shying away from her. Her eyes…so blue…

“PICK IT UP!” Oki shouted, making Matteo jump. They all laughed. All except her. Matteo swallowed bitter hate as he stooped and picked up the ball.

“Now lick it!” Oki said. Matteo stood perfectly still. Swallowed hard as he stared at the stained, worn out ball.

“Go on, bitch! Do it!” one of the others chimed in.

“Yeah! Come on, Wheezy! ” said another.

“Oki…” Raia’s tiny voice broke through the laughing. Matteo looked up to see her place a gentle hand on Oki’s shoulder.

“Leave him alone, he’s—”

“Shut the fuck up, bitch!” Oki jabbed an elbow into her boney chest, knocking her down.

“HEY!” Matteo shouted. The ball left his hand and sailed through the air before he knew what happened. It arced, then hit the ground. Rolled to a harmless stop at Oki’s feet. A prickling acid wave crept over Matteo’s skull as the situation came back into focus. The gang burst to life behind a still, scowling Oki. Raia sat up, dirt caked to streaks of tears. She wiped them away and continued her jeweled stare.

“Ohhh shit! Wheezy done fucked up now!” one voice called.

POP! Oki stomped the ball flat. Everyone jumped. Six lunging strides and the oversized boy was right on top of Matteo. Inches from his face. Sour breath flowed over Matteo as he looked down and away, staying silent. Oki turned his ear toward him.

“What was that? Speak up, Wheezy, I can’t hear you with this shit in your face!” Oki yanked out Matteo’s nose tube then shoved him in the chest. The gang behind chuckled nervously as Matteo sputtered and coughed. Oki threw his head back and laughed. They laughed louder.

Tears stinging his eyes, Matteo forced down the fit. The words came to him, crystallizing out of the fog.

“They don’t really like you,” Matteo said. It had come out in a whisper.

“The fuck did you sa—?”

Matteo struggled to smooth his ragged gasps as he straightened. Looked dead square into Oki’s beady, close-set eyes.

“They’re scared of you. They pretend to be your friend so you won’t hurt ’em. But you do anyway. If you don’t keep ’em scared, you got nobody. And havin’ nobody scares you. ”

Matteo braced himself in the trembling quiet. Watched the thick fist cock back, fly forward, and catch him in the gut. The world went white. He doubled over, distantly aware of the kick that was coming next.

BANG! A gunshot split the moment in two. The kick never came.

“Fuck off. All of you,” said an older voice. On the next rooftop stood a fit, broad-faced boy of eighteen with a black nine millimeter pistol in hand. He turned his sleeveless shoulder to them, showing the characters “T99” tattooed in a triangle. Oki and the other kids scattered like roaches. Raia got up, hesitated, then scampered off to follow.

Matteo crumpled into a tight ball. Looked up through throbbing vision to watch where Oki went. Across those two wood bridges…then through Mr. Ramesh’s garden . He winced as he turned toward the sound of the shot. Scowled when he saw his older brother.

Jogun jumped across the gap in the rooftops and sprinted toward Matteo, holstering the gun in his waistband.

“Can you breathe? Are you okay?” Jogun wasted no time. He refastened the tube under Matteo’s nose, sat him up, and felt his rib cage. Matteo coughed hard. Glared at Jo.

“Come on, bro, talk to me!” said Jogun.

“I’m—I’m fine. You just—” Matteo tried to swallow in a dry throat. Pushed against Jogun’s grasp.

“I’m fine!” said Matteo, staring hard into his brother’s eyes. Jogun hesitated. Released his hands. Matteo rolled and pushed up, head swimming with a sudden rush.

“Nah, you ain’t fine, kid! I told you to stay away from them! But here you are, sight-seein’ on their turf again…”

Matteo’s eyes fell on the gun in Jogun’s waistband. Fingernails dug into his sweating palms. Across those two wood bridges and through Mr. Ramesh’s garden… Tensing his arm in an instant, Matteo reached out. He snatched the pistol and lunged away toward the first bridge. As Jogun reached after him, a noise broke above the midday Slums. Both brothers stopped dead in their tracks.