Free Boy Kills Man by Matt Whyman Page A

down just overwhelmed him. Alberto watched him fight for breath, then returned to my side. He put his gun hand between my shoulder blades. I could feel it in his grasp as he patted me on the back.
    â€˜Don’t ever mess with your nephew again, you hear?’ Jairo switched his attention to me next, but I couldn’t look him in the eye. I just told Alberto we should leave now. For the first time since we had come into the apartment, he did as I asked. I didn’t look at my friend as he passed. I found it hurt to breathe once again, even though I’d barely moved, but that was nothing compared to Uncle Jairo. As I turned for the door, I heard him mutter, ‘Asshole kids,’ which is when Alberto spun back and shot him.
    It happened as suddenly as a lightning strike. No pause for thought. No last warning. He just wheeled around in front of me and squeezed off a shot over my shoulder. The report from the gun brought me to my senses: an almighty
snap
that stayed in my ear so the scream that followed sounded like it was coming from another room. I turned back again and saw my uncle wrapped around his left foot. He had blood seeping through his fingers and looked both stricken and astonished.
    â€˜You shot me!’ he howled, like we couldn’t see that for ourselves. ‘You really shot me!’
    â€˜So maybe I should’ve aimed higher!’ screamed Alberto, his voice breaking up once more. ‘We may just be asshole kids to you, Jairo, but what does that matter? We’ve got the gun! Right now,
I
decide if you live or die, but if I’m honest you don’t deserve to be sent any place. You should be here, with Sonny and his mother, repaying them for taking you in.’
    Alberto looked at me, shrugged like this was out of his hands now, and said he had to go. I felt like I was one step behind him in every way. I was in a daze, still struggling with the fact that he had raised a pistol to my uncle. That he had actually fired it just seemed so incredible. In this city, gunshots were as common as car horns. I had seen bodies in the street, ringed off with police tape, but this was the first time I ever saw someone get hit. I had never been this involved before, and it blew me away.
    â€˜What about the bullet?’ I gasped, remembering what Alberto had told me. ‘They’re keeping count!’
    Alberto looked at the gun, and laughed right out of nowhere. It was as startling as the shot itself, and over in a flash, like some devil inside him had momentarily got a grip. I wondered what had gone through his mind when he pulled the trigger, or if he’d even had time to think at all. He turned to me once again, and told me not to worry myself.
    â€˜What matters is I didn’t waste the shot, Sonny. Now get him to hospital, tell your uncle to say he did it to himself, fooling with a friend.’ He stopped there, glared at Jairo if to shut him up, and began to nod at what he was thinking. ‘Tell us what happened to you, man. What’s your story for the doctors and nurses?’
    My uncle glanced up, his cheeks glistening, and his eyes pinched in pain. ‘I … I can’t say … What you’re asking—’
    â€˜Speak clearly!’
Alberto insisted, playing with him now. ‘You’re gibbering!’
    â€˜I shot myself in the foot!’ wailed Jairo. ‘I shot myself,
all right?
’
    Alberto stood down with the gun, and asked me for the holster. He looked kind of restless now, not just here in my apartment but inside his own skin. Despite the pain, I unbuckled the strap without any help. In fact, I couldn’t wait to get it off.
    â€˜I’ll see you later, brother,’ he said, collecting it from me. He nodded at my uncle. ‘Are you OK with him?’ He waited for me to answer, taking stock of me. I nodded, my teeth gritted tight to stop them from chattering. I could hear my uncle weeping now, and wished my friend would