The brothers gave a slight nod. “Sorry about cha people. Boxy was a pain in the ass to most, but he was alright by me. Hell, he brought me this chair.” Ting! Ting! Ting! He tapped the arm-rest of his transportation with the gold wedding band on his finger. The wheelchair was sitting up all pretty and s**t, dripped in chrome with rims. It had side view mirrors like the ones on a motorcycle and a comfy black leather seat and back rest. This was the Cadillac of wheelchairs. Boxy had copped it for Gatz on the account of him getting shot in the spine when he rode on some Mexicans that had took him for some crack in a robbery that left him with one in the shoulder and two of their homeboys dead.
“What can I do for y’all?” Gatz asked, by this time they’d stashed their spears in their hiding plac
