Willie's War Ending

 Srinikesh Gondomogula

Italics and quotes are the real author’s text.

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“Willie stood in the shadow of the post office on Seventh Street, and surveyed the dark streets. He shivered in the damp March air, his thin coat offering little protection from the windblown rain. His eyes strained to make out any figures in the nearby alley or strolling down the wooden sidewalks. The last thing he wanted was to run into the Clancy Gang. They owned this area.

When he was sure the street was clear, Willie advanced a block, stopping in a doorway to survey the street again. Water dripped from his cap and pooled in his shoes, through the holes in the soles stuffed with newspaper. He moved up Seventh Street, cautious as only a boy who’s grown up on the streets can be.

At twelve, Willie was short and slight with light brown hair and freckles on his nose. He was no fighter, and no challenge to the juvenile gangs that roamed Washington, D.C. in 1864. Willie depended on his keen senses and fleet feet to avoid the marauding gangs every evening. If his father hadn’t died in the bloody battle of Gettysburg, he wouldn’t be out in the streets every night, but he had died, and Willie needed to help his mother to feed his younger siblings. Even though she washed and ironed clothes from the fancy houses all day and night, with Willie carrying endless buckets of water from the public well, it still didn’t pay enough to feed the five of them, to clothe them, and keep wood on the hearth.

So Willie took to the back alleys, sneaking through the dirt lanes covered in horse droppings to find anything he could sell. He filched items from the garbage piles of the gentry at night, competing with the gangs that owned the streets. Sometimes, it was an empty bottle. Other times, rags he sold to the ragman for a penny. Once, he found a petticoat, stained and with a rip his mother could fix, for his younger sister, Annie. Sometimes Willie ran messages for a penny, but that was risky. The gangs owned the message-running business in this part of D.C., and working on their turf could mean ending up as a floater in the Potomac River.

Willie moved to the garbage pile of a group of wealthy houses behind H Street, only a few blocks from President Lincoln’s House. Squatting down, he fingered through the slimy leavings of several families’ evening dinner. His fingers came upon the iron link from a broken chain, and Willie pocketed it. He could sell it to a farrier for fashioning horseshoes. A further search turned up nothing else. Willie wiped his besmirched hands on his jacket and, as he turned, felt a hand grip his upper arm.

“Here now, what do you think you’re doing?” a gruff voice asked.

Willie’s heart pounded as he looked up to the thin face of a groomsmen from one of the gentry’s houses.

"I, er, nothing,” said Willie.

“Well, go do nothing somewhere else,” said the groomsman, releasing him.

Willie didn’t wait for any more advice, and fled down the alley. Turning left, then right, he reached a main thoroughfare where his leather shoes slapped the wooden sidewalk. As he slowed, relieved at his escape, an arm suddenly shot out from behind a garden gate and grasped him by the neck.

“Well, well, well, what have we here?” cackled the voice of Jimmy Clancy, as the rest of his gang gathered round. He shoved Willie to one of his henchman on the other side of the circle. “What do you think this mite’s doing out so late at night? Do you think his mama’s knowing he’s out and about, Tommy?’’ he inquired of the bigger boy now holding Willie by both arms.

“I think maybe he’s been taking something that might be ours,” answered Tommy, nodding to a red-headed boy. The boy advanced and went through Willie’s pockets, holding up the bit of broken chain with a flourish.

“Indeed, that looks like ours,” said Jimmy. “Tsk, tsk.” He shook his head and looked at each member of his gang while Willie strained uselessly against Tommy’s iron grip. “Seems we need to teach someone a lesson, huh, Archie?” He looked at a brutish boy with a crooked nose. The boy cracked his knuckles and stepped in front of Willie with a cruel smile.

“Yeah, boss, I’d say he needs to be taught to stay off our turf, and I’m just the one to do it,” grinned the boy, as he aimed a punch at Willie’s stomach.” His brutal punch connected and hit Willie square in his guts. Tommy released his iron grip on Willie’s skinny neck, and Willie was dropped to the ground, staggering, struggling to breathe. 

“That should teach him a lesson, ain’t I right boss?” Archie cruelly questioned, slowly pulling his muscular arm back to his side.

“Sure should,” Jimmy cackled derisively, his eyes tinted with a murderous glint. 

As Willie bent down low to from the searing pain coming from his stomach, he heard a war cry, and nearly fell over by pure shock. Willie was enveloped by a feeling of pure doom;, his body wentgoing limp, losing hope. His eyelids fluttered heavily, nearly filling with tears, but when he looked up, the feeling of certain doom melted away as joy spread throughout his body. 

To ensure what he was seeing was true and he wasn’t delusional, he rubbed his eyes, and his sight remained unchanged! His old friends from the quiet and peaceful village he used to live in before he was forced out were here! They were going to save him! 

The eyes of the people in Jimmy’s gang filled with shock, switched to fear, and then became scorching anger. As their eyes alighted with flame, they stood together, ready to fight. Jimmy stomped up to the front, and met with the other gang leader, Max, Willie’s most dearest and closest friend.

“Whoever you are, if you don’t leave this instant, we will end your little “gang” in the worst way imaginable, just like we did with this scrawny scumbag here,” he roared, pointing to Willie and addressing Max’s gang at the same time, his voice filled with malice and fury. Willie felt like his friends’ gang stood no chance against Jimmy’s iron fist, but underneath the fear of losing, a small light of hope flickered relentlessly, no matter what the chance of impending doom was. Max, the leader of the other gang gazed at Willie with such warmth that the painful throbbing of his stomach reduced slightly. 

With a cry that shook the Earth, Jimmy started the fight, almost landing a punch square on Max’s nose, but luckily, Max nimbly dodged, avoiding Jimmy’s attack. At that signal, both gangs erupted into complete chaos by punching, kicking, spitting, and yowling in agony as some landed their vicious strikes. It was certainly a huge wrangle, with both sides showing no mercy whatsoever. Willie was caught in between both sidesmasses of war, often getting punched himself because of someone's failure to hit their target. As curses and spit flew through the air, Willie thought for sure this time that he was going to die a slow, painful death from the missiles being launched at him. However, as soon as the fight had begun, it ended withbecause Max’s gang was victorious in pinning Jimmy to the ground with a sickening thud, threatening to land a final blow to Jimmy’s head. As Jimmy’s body went limp with submission, Willie’s mind filled with a sense of relief, relaxing his tense and rigid body.

“You win. You win. I…I surrender,” Jimmy remorsefully admitted. Max slowly released his grip on Jimmy, and Jimmy slowly stood up, covered in bruises, all his pride and dignity gone. As if on cue, all of Jimmy’s gang quickly melted into the darkness of the night. 

Immediately, Max ran toward Willie, and checked if he was okay. Willie noticed that Max and the rest of his gang were also covered in equal amounts of bruises and injuries.

“Willie, are you good?” Max questioned, his voice filled with warmth and care.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” Willie forced out, slowly getting off the ground. After that, Max’s gang escorted him to his house, where his mom and his siblings were living. While they were walking, Max told him the devastating story of how he and his friends had to move the same way Willie did; by being kicked out. As a gift, before he left, Max gave Willie a loaf of bread. Willie delightedly accepted the gift and went inside, ready to share the loaf with his family. After walking in, he gave his mom the bread, ate dinner, and slept. 

He awoke the next morning with a fresh start, ready to meet his friends again. As he walked outside, he realized that they were already waiting for him there.

“Hello, Willie. How are you doing today?” Max asked him, standing up from his sitting position.

“I’m fine,” Willie responded joyfully, realizing that the pounding pain from his stomach had gone. All of a sudden, in front of him, Jimmy Clancy stepped out of the bushes, facing Willie and his gang with renewed confidence, ready to fight. 

“Hi, Willie,” he said with such distaste and venom that wanted to make Willie cry, but he didn’t. “Wanna rematch?”

“Sure,” Max said, and this time, Willie was ready, for now, he had his friends on his side.