If He Hollers, Let Him Go

by Gary Beck

Phip and Patsy had been going steady for more than a year. They were both seventeen years old and in their junior year of high school. They saw each other every day in school, almost every night and every weekend. Patsy was short and fat, with dark frizzy hair and a sullen face that only looked happy when she was with Phip. Phip was tall and thin, with wiry black curls that rolled all over his head and an almost vacant look that only changed when he was with Patsy.

Before they dated each other, Patsy had been known in the neighborhood as "Push", the gang-bang girl. Phip had been a wild and stupid hoodlum, always doing something crazy. After a year though, even the boys who remembered Patsy's reputation no longer tried to pick her up. And Phip had become so calm and quiet that almost everyone had forgotten how he used to behave. When they were together, Patsy was not plain and sullen and Phip was not gawky. They created their own fragile little world, sheltering each other, making each other beautiful.

Phip belonged to a gang named the Falcons, but he was thinking about quitting. His childhood friends, Billy and Tommy, who also belonged to the gang, were also thinking about leaving. But there were obstacles. Other gangs remembered earlier days, when the three boys were always looking for trouble. At the same time, some of the Falcons didn't want them to leave the gang. So the three friends and their girls slowly became an isolated pocket in the gang, constantly worrying about how to escape an increasingly unwanted way of life that was starting to constrict them.

With the exception of Pony, leader of the Falcons, the gang was disturbed by the problem of Phip, Billy and Tommy, even though they hadn't said anything to anyone about quitting. Tom-Tom and his clique of friends didn't like the three friends and were always trying to start a fight with them, that only Pony could stop. The rest of the gang was afraid that if Phip, Billy and Tommy quit, so would others and then the gang would break up. Only Pony prevented what could be a confrontation between the gang and the three friends.

Patsy worried about Phip. Even when she was with him she often brooded about his belonging to the gang. She remembered when they first became interested in each other, a warm summer night when she and Phip were sitting on the Parkway with some of the Falcons. A rival gang, the Goblins, had come along looking for trouble and Phip had fought one of them, pulling his knife and threatening to cut him if they didn't let the Falcons go. She thought of other fights....The party in Tommy's basement, the gang's clubroom, that some of the Counts crashed. Phip tried to protect her from them and when he pulled his knife he was knocked unconscious with a chair. Many, many fights. She remembered the night that she finally got Phip to throw away his knife. What a night that had been. They were coming out of the movies....

"Wasn't that a swell picture, Phippy?"

"Yeah. But why do those damn cowboys always get the girl at the end? It's like there's some kinda law. The hero kills the bad guy in a gunfight and the girl with big tits falls all over him."

"It's nice when everybody's happy," she murmured dreamily.

"Yeah. But there's always this bad guy who wants to go straight an' he gets killed trying to help the good guy, as if you can never get away from the gang any other way, except by dieing."

"Whadda ya mean, Phippy?"

"Nothin'. I was just talkin' about the picture."

"But you liked it, didn't you?"

"It was alright."

There was a mild spring breeze and it slightly stirred the sparse leaves of city Sycamores. Patsy looked around restlessly as they walked.

"Where are we going now, Phippy?"

"I don't know. Do you want a soda?"

"I want to be alone with you. Somewhere where there's no trouble, just us."

"Aw, Patsy.... Jesus. One minute you're just talkin' regular and the next your voice changes an' you say something like that. Then ya look at me with your eyes all soft.... Where the hell can we go? The only place I can think of is the clubroom."

"Not there, Phip. I don't want to go there. We can sit on the Parkway."

"That's really being alone. All the guys an' girls we know comin' by an' looking at us."

"I want to be alone with you so bad, Phip. I want to be your little bunny rabbit, furry and soft and not have anyone else around."

"I want to be alone with you, Patsy and play rabbit, but we don't have any goddamn place to be alone together.... Are your folks gonna be up late tonight?"

"I don't know. Why?"

"'Cause if they're asleep, we can use the couch in your living room."

"I'd be scared, Phippy. What if they woke up?"

"They wouldn't wake up once they went to bed, would they?"

"I'd be too scared."

"Goddamn it. I wish we had someplace to go."

Patsy waited a moment then changed the subject. "Phippy, I want to ask you something."

"What?"

"Do you love me?"

"You know I do, Patsy. You're all I've got. The only time I feel good is when I'm with you."

"Then I want you to do something for me."

"Sure, baby."

"I want you to throw your knife away."

"What!"

"I want you to throw it away. I worry about you all the time. I keep seeing you cutting somebody and getting caught and going to jail. I don't know how many times I've seen you put your hand in your pocket to feel your knife. It scares me to think about your using it and getting into trouble."

"Patsy, I carry it for protection. There's a lotta guys who don't like me, but they know I carry a blade, so they don't start anything."

"They won't know if you stop carrying it. They'll think you still have it and stay away from you. I'm afraid for you all the time, Phippy. I'm always afraid something will happen to you and I'll be left all
alone."

Phip tried to dismiss Patsy's fears. "Nothing's gonna happen to me, Patsy."

"One of these days the Falcons will get into a big fight and you'll get hurt."

"I haven't gotten hurt yet."

"But you will sometime, or you'll hurt somebody else and get into real trouble. If you don't have a knife, you won't be so ready to fight all the time."

"It saved me from getting hurt lots of times."

"If you didn't have it, you'd stay away from the places where you get into fights. And I wouldn't worry the way I do now."

"Well I don't tell you to worry. And where could I go? The Falcons are the only guys I know and Billy and Tommy are my only real friends. Now let's not talk about it anymore. Just forget it."

"I can't. I worry too much to forget it."

"Jesus Christ! What do you want me to do, quit the gang and all my friends because you worry?"

"You've been thinking of quitting the gang. I can tell."

"Like hell I have. And stop talkin' about it. One minute you're telling me you want to be alone somewhere, where we can make out with nobody botherin' us, an' the next minute you're nagging me about the gang."

"That's because I love you and worry about you. I don't want to see you unhappy all the time. I know you don't want to be in that gang anymore."

"Well stop worrying so goddamn much. If you love me so much, why don't you think of someplace where we can be alone?"

Patsy was getting more and more upset. "Is that all you want me to do, think of a place to be alone? You don't want me to care if you fight or get hurt? You don't want me to worry if you're in trouble or unhappy? Just find a place to be alone, Patsy, so we can screw. I thought you loved me and that it was different with us...."

Phip was unaccustomed to dealing with a distraught girl and instantly tried to console her. "Aw, Patsy. Don't cry. Please, baby, stop crying. I didn't mean that. I want you so bad all the time that it drives me crazy. Dry your eyes, please.... I'll tell you the truth.... I'd like to get out of the gang, but I don't know how to do it without getting some of them after me. And there's a lotta guys from other gangs who'd be looking for me, once they found out that I quit the Falcons."

"If you love me and don't want me to be unhappy, you'll throw your knife away."

"Will you be unhappy if I don't?"

"Yes, Phippy. And once it's gone, you'll change. You won't be so quick to get angry and fight. Maybe you'll think more about leaving the gang."

"If that's what you really want, baby, I'll throw it away...."

They had been slowly walking while Patsy persuasively continued her efforts to get Phip to throw away his knife. Phip stopped at the corner looked at her and said softly: "I'll drop it down this sewer...."

Phip took out his knife, leaned down and dropped it through the sewer grate. "Well, it's gone.... It was a real good knife. I had it for a long time. It's gonna seem real funny not feeling it in my pocket."

"Don't think about it, Phippy. Don't think of it anymore.... Phippy?"

"Yeah?"

"Let's go to my house and if my folks are sleeping we can play rabbit. Let's hurry, Phippy. I want to hold you tight and feel you next to me...."

So Phip had thrown away his knife. For the next few weeks he was tense and nervous when he was anywhere but home. His hand constantly reached into his pocket, searching for the cold, hard comfort of the knife, twitching when it wasn't there. Everywhere he went he looked over his shoulder, seeking lurking foes who might be stalking him, knowing that he was weaponless. But weeks passed without trouble and he began to relax. The weight of three years of gang life, with the constant threat of violence, began to disappear. Phip became aware that when he threw away his knife, he lost his willingness to fight. He began to realize that fighting didn't have to be an everyday occurrence.

Phip discovered how to laugh happily, no longer as an idiot attention-seeker, but from enjoyment of things. When he was with the gang, instead of talking about old fights and who could take who, he was so casual that the gang gradually sensed that he didn't want to fight anymore. His old friends Billy and Tommy, disturbed by personal problems that were more important to them than the gang, also lost interest in fighting. So the three friends became an isolated fragment in the gang's life; unhappy, confused, but slowly beginning to change and turning to each other for help.

Phip's biggest problem was Patsy. He wanted to be with her all the time. When he wasn't with her, he couldn't do his schoolwork and his interest always wandered from the people he was with. When they were apart he either flamed with jealous rage, fearing she was with someone else, or he daydreamed and had fantasies about her, growing more and more excited as the time to meet came closer. When they were together, time seemed to pass on rapid, spiteful wings.

It always seemed to be a long and desperate wait until they finally met again. Then the minutes raced away, separating them so quickly that it felt as if they hardly had any time together, leaving them to dream of the next meeting. They had no place to be alone, so when they were together and thought no one was watching them, they clutched each other's hands, kissed hungrily, ran curious, shy fingers on each others bodies. They alternated between tender brooding and furious tension from wanting each other so much.

Phip spent many hours thinking about where he could be alone with Patsy. He couldn't bring her to his house and he certainly couldn't go to her house, except when she was baby-sitting. Then they would lie on the couch, always afraid of waking her little brother, always afraid that her parents might come home early. They would neck and rub against each other, until their passion flashed hot between them, leaving them rumpled, sweaty and always unsatisfied.

Then one hot, sleepless night, idly fantasizing on his tenement house roof, Phip found the answer right under his nose. There was an abandoned wooden pigeon hut on the roof, left intact by a former tenant. It was only closed by a rusty padlock. Phip easily snapped the lock and discovered what could be a private meeting place, eight by ten, reeking of pigeon dung, but ready to be transformed by desire into a lover's hideaway.

The next night, when everyone was asleep, Phip went up to the roof with a broom, mop, soap and a large pail of hot water. This was the first complicated sanitary activity he had ever attempted in his life. He wasn't sure what to do, so he scraped and scrubbed until even the old paint flaked off. When he was finished, the tiny hut, already transformed into a secret cabin on an unscalable mountain, was clean and ready to be furnished. He obtained an old mattress, blankets, an oange crate to hold candles and cigarettes and the mysterious cabin was ready for occupancy. And Phip knew just how he would introduce Patsy to their new hideaway.

Phip met Patsy the next night at eight o'clock. They went to Short-arm Louie's candy store, the Falcons' hangout and sat talking over sodas. When Patsy began to get restless, they left Short-arm's and went to the parkway, where they stood around talking to some of the gang. As soon as it was dark they moved away from the Falcons and sat on a bench in the shadows between the street lamps that was partly sheltered from view.

They started necking and soon were breathing heavily, excited and wanting much more of each other than kisses. Patsy was just beginning to get tense and irritable, when Phip said:

"Let's go, Patsy."

"Where?"

"Someplace I want to take you."

"But where, Phippy?"

"Just come with me and you'll find out."

"Alright, honey. But can't you tell me where we're going?"

"Not yet. It's a surprise."

"You have something for me? A present?"

"Yeah."

"Oh, what is it? Please tell me, Phippy."

"I can't describe it. When you see it you'll know why. But I hope it'll make you happy, 'cause if it does, it'll make me happy too."

Phip stood up and held out his hand. Patsy took it and got up with a feeling of anticipation that grew as he led her away to some mysterious destination.

"Let's hurry, honey," she urged. "I'm all excited to see what it is..... Put your arm around me....." When he obeyed, she whispered: "That feels good."

"You feel good."

"Phippy. You shouldn't touch me there, not in the street. There are people around. Wait 'til we're alone."

"It's hard to keep my hands off you, you feel so good."

"I know, honey. Sometimes I want to touch you so much that it could make me cry. But it's never enough just touching you. I always want more and more. I guess we'll just have to wait until we find someplace where we don't have to stop touching each other."

Phip smiled inscrutably. "Yeah. I guess so."

"It doesn't seem to bother you very much. What are you smiling about? Tell your baby. Tell your little bunny what makes her big rabbit smile like that."

"You'll find out soon."

"Why, Phippy? Is it at your house? Is that where we're going?"

"No. But it's near there."

"I think you're mean to make me wait. I'm dieing to know what it is...."

When they turned the corner on Phip's street, Patsy squealed with delight. "It is your house. That's where we're going."

"No. We're going in here. Next door."

"Who lives here, Phippy?"

"Just a few more minutes and you'll find out."

He opened the street door and led her inside. "Don't make any noise going upstairs. Just follow me and don't talk...."

"Alright...."

They climbed four flights of stairs and Patsy was panting heavily and moving slowly.

"Phippy. Stop for a minute. I can't catch my breath."

"It's just one more flight."

"Where is it? On the roof?"

"Yeah. We're going to the penthouse."

She looked at him as if he was crazy. "What are you talking about?"

"You'll see...."

He opened the sagging door and led her onto the roof. It was a cloudy night and pitch dark, so he guided her cautiously. "Careful. Step over this wall.... Wait'll I get the door open," which he did with a flourish.

"I can't see a thing," Patsy quavered.

"What we need is some light then. A match, a candle and presto, light."

Patsy looked around the small enclosure and pointed. "What's that?"

"That's a bed."

"Who lives here, Phippy?"

"We do, Patsy. Whenever we want to be alone."

"Oh, Phip. Oh, honey. You mean it's ours? Nobody else comes here?"

"That's right. We can be alone here and nobody'll find us."

"I don't know whether to laugh or cry."

"Why don't you kiss me instead. Then we can lock the door and put out the candle, get undressed, get into bed and lie with each other, all naked. No one will bother us here. We'll play rabbit and I'll hold you so tight that I'll hurt you."

"Oh, Phippy, hurry."

"We don't have to hurry anymore, Patsy...."

Phip and Patsy spent many nights in their secret cabin on the rooftop. And when no one came up and disturbed them, they began to feel secure. They made love with wild abandon, burying themselves deep in each others flesh, calling each other silly names, touching and kissing constantly, falling upon each other in sudden, urgent hunger, until the whole world was shut out of their passionate meetings. After a while, they no longer felt the tension of frustrated desire and began to discover the deep pleasure of love-making. They became more intent on pleasing each other. Then they were able to go to school, meet the gang, or stay at home, warm and fulfilled, knowing that they would soon meet again in their refuge; their home.

Phip found it much easier to get along with the gang. He could talk and joke and casually evade the questions about where he and Patsy spent so much time together. He avoided the gang whenever there was going to be a fight and even left the Parkway when there was too much fooling around. But he still brooded about belonging to the Falcons and Patsy still talked to him about quitting the gang.

Billy and Tommy had also stopped fighting and acting wildly. Only Tom-Tom, who hated Billy, ever said anything challenging, but the rest of the gang ignored his provocations. Billy was thinking about going to college. Tommy was planning to start Radio and Television school. Now Phip was beginning seriously to think about getting married. When each of the three friends realized that they wanted a new way of life, they decided to talk to Pony about quitting the gang. One night, in Short-arm Louie's, they got their chance.

As usual, Billy spoke for them. "Pony. Me, Phip and Tommy want to talk to you."

"What's up?"

"Let's take a walk an' we'll tell you."

"Awright. Hey, Short-arm. When Jeanie gets here, tell her that I'll be back in a little while...."

They went outside and walked around the corner and sat on the low fence of a nearby apartment building.

"Now, what's botherin' you guys?" Pony asked.

"We've been thinking about a lotta things lately," Billy explained. "And we've been finding out all sorts of new things. I guess we're still pretty mixed up about some of them, but...."

"Stop the speechmakin', Billy, an' tell me what's on your minds."

"It's like this, Pony. We want to quit the Falcons."

Pony nodded that he was aware of their recent restlessness.

"How long have you guys been thinking about it?"

"For a long time," Billy answered. "We're tired of fighting and all the wild things we used to do. We're changing somehow and it's time for us to get out of the gang."

"Well, I knew you guys would want to quit soon," Pony said thoughtfully. "I've been watching you for a while. You've been jumpy for months...." He paused, then looked at them significantly. "Tom-Tom and some of the boys won't like it if I let you quit. They might want to do something about it."

"Do you care if we quit?" Phip blurted out.

"Phip. We've been friends for a long time. If this is what you guys really want, I won't stop you. I'm just worried about what the rest of the gang will do."

"We're not worried about them," Billy said. "We're just concerned about how you feel."

"Well you better worry, cause Tom-Tom an' his friends will be looking for you, as soon as they find out you quit."

"What can we do?" Tommy asked.

"I think there's only one way to handle it," Pony replied. "This is the end of May. You guys stay in the Falcons until October or November, whenever it starts gettin' cold. Once it's real cold, the boys won't be hanging around outdoors and they'll have time to get used to your being out of the gang. Until then, you don't have to fight or even come around all the time, except if we need you. Okay?"

"Is there another way, Pony?" Phip asked entreatingly. "Some way we can get out sooner?"

"No, Phip. There's no other way. I've got to think of the gang too. I won't let it break up. But you guys are my friends and I'll do anything I can to help you. And you know we'll still be friends, even after you leave the gang."

"Sure, Pony," Phip said.

"We're not going to stop being friends just because we leave the gang," Tommy asserted.

"Is anything else botherin' you guys?"

"No, Pony," Billy answered. "That's all."

"Alright. I'm going back to Short-arms. Take it easy."

"You too, Pony," Tommy said.

"See ya, Pony...." Phip added.

They watched him walk away, then Phip turned to the others. "I don't know about you guys, but I don't want to wait that long to get out of the gang."

"Well I tried my best," Billy said defensively. "We'll have to think of something else."

"You did good, Billy," Tommy assured him.

"Do you have any ideas, Phip?" Billy asked.

"No. But let's talk it over in a few days. Maybe we can come up with something. I'll see you guys in school tomorrow."

Phip walked off and Tommy said: "So long, Phip."

"See you tomorrow, Phip," Billy called after him.

Phip left Billy and Tommy and went home, brooding about what Pony had told them. October or November was a long time off and even then there might be trouble with some of the gang. Besides, Patsy would be too upset if he stayed in the Falcons for six months, knowing that he would have to fight if they needed him. He decided that if he, Billy and Tommy couldn't think of a way out, he would tell Patsy what Pony said and maybe she could come up with something.

Patsy had been incredibly happy since the night that Phip had first led her to their secret meeting place. All her feelings for Phip, which she once held in because of fear and confusion, now came out with steady growth and fulfilling passion. She began to develop self-respect and dignity. Various people she knew sensed the change and treated her more kindly. It was hard to believe, but life was becoming beautiful and satisfying, except for Phip's belonging to the Falcons. That was a constant, gnawing ache. Patsy had seen boys hurt in gangfights, or arrested by the police. She knew of boys getting injured, boys getting killed, boys sent to jail, so she worried all the time. The specter of the gang was the only haunt in her new-found house of love.

Patsy kept asking Phip to quit the gang. She even nagged him sometimes. She knew that it annoyed him and she also knew how bad it sounded, but even when she hated herself for it later, she had to tell him how she felt. The only time that she didn't worry was when they were making love. Then, caught in the slow ascent, moving faster and faster, shedding the world, just one body in swirling motion, floating in a delirious limbo, until great spasms of pleasure brought them back to earth panting, silent and complete. But soon afterwards, the disturbing thoughts came back, keeping one part of Patsy completely insecure, always fearing that something bad would happen to Phip.

A few days after their meeting with Pony, Phip met Billy and Tommy to talk about their problem, but they couldn't find any solution. So that night, when Phip and Patsy were secure in their little cabin, he told her what Pony had told them. She couldn't think of anything specific that would help, but kept insisting that he avoid meeting anyone in the gang....

"Patsy. Listen to me," Phip said reassuringly. "I want to quit the gang. I don't want you to have to worry all the time. I don't want to fight or act wild with them."

"Then just don't go near them and they'll leave you alone."

"Patsy, believe me. They won't. I go to school with them. I eat lunch with them. I go home with them. Every time I go out of the house I meet some of them. They don't want me to quit and I can't hide from them. Do you know what they'd do to me if I quit now?"

"What if they make you fight and you get hurt?"

"Maybe I'd get hurt, maybe. But if I tried to get out now, they'd beat my brains out every day until they got tired. I guarantee you that some of those guys wouldn't get tired for a long time, especially
Tom-Tom."

"So you're going to stay in the Falcons?" Patsy asked despairingly.

"There's nothing else I can do, baby. I'll stay in the gang 'til winter, then quit with Billy and Tommy."

"Billy and Tommy. You're always talking about Billy and Tommy. Why can't you do it by yourself?"

"Because if we don't stick together, Tom-Tom and his boys will kick our asses one at a time. If we quit at the same time, the gang'll know that Pony's letting us. Then only two or three guys at most would help Tom-Tom and we can handle them. Do you understand
now?"

"Yes, Phippy. I don't mean to nag you. I love you so much. I don't want you to get hurt. That's why I say those things."

"Nothing's going to happen to me, baby. You'll see how fast the time passes. Then it'll be all over and we'll be together, with nothing to bother us."

"I just wish it was now, Phippy. I'm still afraid."

So the summer passed, with bouts of tension and alarms. Patsy worried and Phip brooded, but they were happy with each other. Patsy looked forward to the time when Phip would be free of the Falcons. All Phip thought about for the future was to finish school, get a job and get married. And all Patsy thought about was Phip, Phip, Phip.

Phip kept thinking about marriage, Billy was planning on college and Tommy was ready to start Radio and TV school. The three friends found themselves outgrowing the boys and girls around them, who were only interested in having a good time, with lots of excitement and no thought for the future. The friends began to talk to each other about serious problems, hopes and ambitions. They were no longer just simple hoodlums, full of curses and violence. Even though they had been friends since grade school, they found new worlds in each other and became closer than ever. August ended and Phip was almost content with his girl, his dreams and his friends.

One night, early in September, Phip and Patsy were going to meet Billy and Tommy on the Parkway. They walked slowly, arms around each other, enjoying what might be the last of the warm evenings of summer. When they turned onto the Parkway, they saw a large crowd gathered near the benches where the Falcons hung out. Then they saw Billy, who always had a quick retort, who was always sarcastic and clever, whether he was afraid, happy or angry. He came staggering towards them. Tears were making shiny streaks on his face. His body was shaking and his arms were twitching in spastic movements.

"Billy!" Phip called out in alarm. "What is it? What's wrong?"

"Phip. Phip."

"What's the matter? What happened?"

"He's dead, Phip. He's dead," Billy mumbled in a broken voice.

"Who, Billy? Tell me."

"It's Tommy. He's dead. He's dead."

Phip was stunned. "No. It can't be."

"It is. He's dead."

"Where is he?"

Billy pointed. "He's lieing in the gutter. They put a sheet over him, Phip. They covered Tommy with a white sheet."

"I gotta see him. Take it easy now, Billy...."

Phip rushed through the crowd and Billy followed. They knelt by the body and Phip pulled the sheet back. "It is Tommy. Oh my God. It's Tommy."

A police officer noticed them at the body. "Get the hell outta here, you kids."

Patsy had followed them and pleaded: "Let them stay, officer. He's their closest friend."

"They'll have to see him later, girlie. Get them away from here now."

"Phip. Billy. Come with me," Patsy said. She took them each by an arm and led them off. "Come sit down on the bench," she urged.

"What happened, Billy?" Phip asked in anguish. "How did it happen?"

"We were sitting on the Parkway, waiting for you, when Tom-Tom and some of his boys came along. They started fooling around and made some remarks about us being punks for wanting to quit the gang. Tommy got angry and wanted to fight Tom-Tom, but I calmed him down. Then we got up and walked away. We were crossing the street, when Tom-Tom yelled that we were too scared to fight. Tommy turned and started back towards him and got hit by a car. He must have hit his head when he fell, 'cause the car wasn't going that fast...." Billy sobbed and Phip could barely understand him. "Now he's dead and they covered him with a white sheet."

"Come on, Billy," Patsy said comfortingly. "Me and Phip will take you home."

Billy looked at her in horror. "He's dead, Patsy. Our friend Tommy is dead."

"Come on. Let's go home," she murmured.

Patsy slowly led Phip and Billy away. Both of them were dazed and crying. They got to Billy's house and Patsy made him promise to go right to bed. They waited until he went inside, then they went to Phip's house. He said that he couldn't bear to go inside, so they went upstairs to their cabin hideaway. The shock was just beginning to really hit him, and Patsy led him like a child.

"Patsy. He's really dead. We grew up together and he's dead. If we left the gang he'd still be alive."

"It wasn't your fault, Phip. There was nothing else you could do. Come lie down with Patsy. She'll hold you close and you can cry for Tommy."

"He's dead, Patsy. He wasn't even eighteen. He was going to TV school in two weeks, and now he's dead.... Why didn't they let us go...."

"I know, baby. I know. Come to Patsy and cry for poor Tommy."

If He Hollers, Let Him Go
© 2006 by Gary Beck

 

 


About the Author

Gary Beck has spent most of his adult life as a theater director and worked as an art dealer when he couldn't earn a living in the theater. He has also been a tennis pro, a ditch digger and a salvage diver. His original plays and translations of Moliere, Aristophanes and Sophocles have been produced Off Broadway and toured colleges and outdoor performance venues. He currently lives in New York City, where he's busy writing fiction and his short stories have recently appeared in numerous literary magazines.

 

All content copyright © 2006-12 by ShatterColors, unless otherwise indicated. All rights reserved.
Reproduction of material, in whole or in part, from any ShatterColors Literary Review
pages without written permission of the copyright owners is strictly prohibited.
Site designed and built by Robert Scott Leyse, with input and logo by Granville Papillon,
and wallpaper by Edward Haven from two of his paintings.