"A little work now prevents a huge, pain-in-thebehind worth of work down the road."
Breton Drive separated the assemblage of townhouses of Breton Court from Jonathan Jennings Public School #109. The school was designated a zero tolerance zone and once Night's drug crew had been dismantled, it was one in deed as well as word. King stared at the shoes as if they personally mocked him.
"It's a pair of shoes."
"It's a declaration," King said. "Says someone intends on dealing out of here soon. It's a set-up notice. Well, message received. Now we're sending one back."
"Yeah, throw up a pair of tennis shoes and see how many brothers it takes to take them down."
"Two. One to do the work and another to wear his ass out with complaining about it." King waved the broom handle about, a blind conductor directing an unseen orchestra. Eventually one of his haphazard swings connected with the shoes and they tumbled free. "There. Now they know. You try to set up shop in this neighborhood, there are folks around here who care enough to stop it."
"Uh huh. If you close your eyes, you can hear your applause."
"Come on." King gathered the shoes, holding them with two fingers well away from him. "We going to be late."