Date: Sun, 6 Jul 2003 05:49:35 -0400
From: C. E. Jordan <c.e._jordan@mailandnews.com>
Subject: BROOKLYN BLUES: TYSON & SHAWN Part 1

Brooklyn Blues: Tyson and Shawn

by

C.E. Jordan
zedzero5@hotmail.com


Part 1

     Tyson stared down from his bedroom window into the courtyard of his
apartment building. Two floors below, a dry Summer wind whipped litter around
the dusty plaza where Shawn, nearly fifteen, was hanging out on a
green-painted bench with two older teens, a boy and a girl. A scrap of paper
and a plastic bag floated into the air then slowly drifted back down onto a
different area of the decrepit courtyard. Shawn abruptly got up and started
walking away. His bench-mate, a sleepy-eyed boy nicknamed 'China' called out
after him, "Hey nigga, where you off to?"

     "I dunno man... away from here."

     Ty saw all this from above. He continued watching even as Shawn sauntered
off, one long stride followed by a slight hesitation as the other leg caught
up. That characteristic small roll of Shawn's butt echoed sensually through
the body of the young boy observing him. The rhythmic movement fascinated Ty;
he breathed a little faster and his young body felt 'funny'. The
twelve-year-old continued watching with keen interest everything the dark teen
did.

     At the entrance to the compound Shawn stopped and leaned against one of
the big metal gates. His hand moved under the armless red T-shirt as he slowly
caressed his flat belly.

     Ty pushed his old-fashioned round glasses up his nose a bit and leaned
forward onto the windowsill. He could now clearly see the several inches of
matching red boxers that showed above the waist of Shawn's blue jeans. The
pants had sagged down far enough so that the cleft of the fourteen-year-old's
behind was visible beneath the thin material of his boxers. Another kid walked
up to him. Shawn's mop of short dreadlocks shook as he greeted the new boy
with a brief nod. A quick complex handshake followed, and Ty knew something
had passed from one hand to the other. Probably a joint, he thought. A few of
the kids who spent lots of time hanging out down there in the courtyard either
sold or bought drugs. Ty knew for sure that Shawn sold grass every now and
again, nothing heavy, probably just enough to buy nice clothes, new sneakers,
and such; seemed the kid always needed to look 'fresh'.

     Now that he had the money he needed, Shawn grew bored and headed back to
his apartment. He looked up suddenly, and for a moment was staring directly at
Ty. Light glinted off the round glasses as Tyson attempted to pull back from
view, but it was too late and he froze as Shawn's amused eyes locked on to
his. He'd been caught watching. Again. A sardonic smile and a slight flick of
Shawn's thick dreadlocks acknowledged the younger boy's gaze.

     For nearly a year now, Shawn had been Ty's neighbor in the large, shabby,
Brooklyn apartment building. They lived only two doors from each other on the
same floor, yet, apart from a brief hi, or an occasional nod of the head as
they passed each other in the hall, the two boys had never really had a
conversation. Nevertheless, Ty had developed an obsession for his handsome
young neighbor. Shawn's hip-hop style of clothing looked so cool. Extra-thick
eyelashes any girl would envy surrounded his deep black eyes, and his skin was
smooth and dark, like polished ebony. Tyson was pale in comparison. Each day
he watched Shawn's every move from the safety of his window. And now, he
realized, the teen had begun to notice. **'Maybe... maybe if I can meet him...
really meet him and talk.... maybe we could be friends... if only...'*

     But Ty had already made a decision. He ran to the front door, and
hesitated only for a moment. His mind raced: **'Mom said not to leave the
apartment... but she also wanted me to get the mail from our mailbox in the
lobby... I have to leave the apartment to get it... and... Shawn always runs
up the stairs rather than waiting for the elevator... I'm going to run down
the stairs... maybe I'll meet him while he's coming up... or something...'*

     Soon Ty was making his way into the quiet dark stairwell. He stopped
confused on the first floor landing, **'what the heck am I doing? What am I
gonna say if I see him?'* And his heart started thumping even harder when he
heard footsteps coming fast up the stairs. Before he could move again, Shawn's
mop of hair appeared from around the corner.

     "What the fuck?" Shawn halted, startled to find someone loitering in the
shadows. "Who's there? Is that you Ty? What the fuck you standing there for,
man? Damn! I thought you was a mugger."

     Tyson tried to say something, but only a squeak escaped his throat.
Shawn, looking angry and suddenly dangerous, strode right up to the shorter
boy. He kept bumping his shoulder and chest into Ty forcing him steadily
backward until he was slammed breathless against a shadowy corner wall.
Tyson's glasses slid so far down his sweaty nose that the older boy was
looking directly into his alarmed eyes. "You know, kid," Shawn growled right
into Ty's face, "I could've got scared and popped you with my gun."

     While tightly grasping Ty's neck with his left hand, the teen groped in
his own right pocket, as if to get a weapon. He was practically pressing onto
the young boy's body and staring steadily into the wide hazel eyes. Tyson was
totally overpowered by Shawn's very presence; he wanted to run away, but at
the same time he fought an urge to grab the boy in front of him and pull his
body even tighter against himself. He felt faint, "I... I..." he stammered, "I
didn't mean anything... I..." His frightened pubescent voice squeaked way
higher than normal.


(To be continued...)