Juve turned and ran with amazing speed; he dropped to his knees with extreme elegance of a practiced escapee, rolled onto the ground that was filled with water up to an inch or two; but Frank couldn’t tell since Juve was moving too quickly. After crawling along at a tremendous speed, Juve shot up, and ran flat out along another alley, with Frank panting as he just exited the tunnel. Juve stopped abruptly, and motioned for Frank to silence as he caught up.
Juve moved exactly two feet to the left, and grappled about, pulling out a loose brick. Frank had half a thought to applaud Juve and this gang for their secrecy, but remembered his dream, and thought of what they might be responsible for. Juve flipped the brick over in his hands, a small, hand-held instrument barely visible through his small hands. Cupping his hands to his mouth, he blew. A most intricate note came out, more or less like that of instrument the colonists used to fool the British in the 1700’s. Though, thought Frank, he doubted Juve knew that. A second note, identical to Juve’s, emanated from a third alley to the northwest of their location. And, before Frank could begin to question the effectiveness of these notes, nine or ten teenage boys stepped out from the alleyway, and faced Juve. Frank’s heart skipped a beat as he saw the boys wore assorted caps lolled lazily over their eyes, baggy and tattered coats or jackets, and suspiciously large pants, all of which were spacious enough to carry a weapon of some sort. The farthest one to the right openly wielded a short baseball bat, the centermost boy had his hands mysteriously in his jacket pockets, the furthest one to the left hefted an iron bar, and the others carried assortments of sticks, stones, knives, and plates of wood. “Juve, ‘oo the hell d’you think yeh are, bringin’ ‘im ‘bout before confrontin’ us? He could be an impostor of one of the other gangs.” The center boy snarled at Jove, and the others agreed, all of them gravely dangerous as they formed a semi circle.
“I got you a ‘unner boy with no record, right?” Juve half-glanced at Frank nervously, his voice elevated. Frank felt his dear life depended upon his response, so he replied, “Yeh, no record. Rookie, I suppose, compared to yeh lot; ‘ou could pass off as the IRA.” He laughed, but not one of them, including Juve, appeared to see any humor in it. Awkward, thought Frank.