But Balkey
talked back with a stare for a beat. “‘Boy?’ Who you calling
‘boy’ diapers?” said one of the rusty guards. “This is Balkey,
don’t you know? The pugilist of Pic Street, the front wall fighter.”
And the young one put his hands up, “easy, easy. I don’t
know every war vet’s puppy…”
he started to defend his words but some more figures were
pressing themselves into the room; slipping in from the shadows,
club-name Coral wafted in along with familiar brittle knights.
“You should know this one,” Coral cooed deeply and laughed,
his arms outstretched like everyone owed him a hug. But Balkey,
he was having none of it. “Ease back, boss. You’re walking loud
with no-towners like these,” and he gestured toward the knights.