Always Outnumbered, Always Outgunned (Socrates Fortlow 1) Read Online Free PDF

And when there was news it was about his death.
    Petis had drifted downtown after that day. He didn’t have any place to live and he was afraid to come back.
    He begged and lived in alleys downtown. He robbed other street people and tried his hand at drug dealing—but failed.
    Finally he got into a fight with a man he thought he could rob. Petis hadn’t realized how weak he’d become. He never recovered from the beating.
    Socrates watched his mother crying at the service.
    {4.}
    “Maybe we should have us a regular group meetin’ ’bout problems like Petis,” Stony said to Socrates one day as they were playing chess in South Park. “It worked out good the first time.”
    “I’ont think so, Stony. No I don’t.”
    “Why not?”
    “We ain’t some kinda gangbangers, man. We cain’t live like that. We did what we had to do. But you know, I don’t know if I’d have the heart ever to do it again.”

T HE T HIEF
    {1.}
    Iula’s grill sat on aluminum stilts above an open-air, fenced-in auto garage on Slauson. Socrates liked to go to the diner at least once a month on a Tuesday because they served meat loaf and mustard greens on Tuesdays at Iula’s. The garage was run by Tony LaPort, who had rented the diner out to Iula since before their marriage; it was a good arrangement for Tony so he still leased to her eight years after their divorce.
    Tony had constructed the restaurant when he was in love and so it was well built. The diner was made from two large yellow school buses that Tony had welded together—side by side. One bus held the counter where the customers sat, while the other one held the kitchen and storage areas. The banistered stairway that led up to the door was aluminum also. When Iula closed for the night she used a motor-driven hoist to lift the staircase far up off the street. Then she’d go through the trapdoor down a wooden ladder to Tony’s work space, let herself out through the wire gate, and set the heavy padlocks that Tony used to keep thieves out.
    If the locks failed to deter an enterprising crook there was still Tina to contend with. Tina was a hundred-pound mastiff who hated everybody in the world except Iula and Tony. Tina sat right by the gate all night long, paws crossed in a holy prayer that some fool might want to test her teeth.
    She was waiting that afternoon as Socrates approached the aluminum stairs. She growled in a low tone and Socrates found himself wondering if he would have a chance to crush the big dog’s windpipe before she could tear out his throat. It was an idle thought; the kind of question that men discussed when they were in prison. In prison, studying for survival was the only real pastime.
    How many ways were there to kill a man? What was more dangerous in a close fight—a gun or a knife? How long could you hold your breath underwater if there were policemen looking for you on the shore? Will God really forgive any sin?
    Thinking about killing that dog was just habit for Socrates. The habit of twenty-seven years behind bars out of fifty-eight.
    As he climbed the aluminum staircase he thought again about how well built it was. He liked the solid feeling that the light metal gave. He was happy because he could smell the mustard greens.
    He could almost taste that meat loaf.
    {2.}
    “Shet that do’!” Iula shouted, her back turned to Socrates. “Damn flies like t’eat me up in here.”
    “Shouldn’t cook so damn good you don’t want no notice, I.” Socrates slammed shut the makeshift screen door and walked up the step well into the bus.
    The diner was still empty at four-thirty. Socrates came early because he liked eating alone. He went to the stool nearest Iula and sat down. The musical jangle of coins came from the pockets of his army jacket.
    “You been collectin’ cans again?” Iula had turned around to admire her customer. Her face was a deep amber color splattered with dark freckles, especially around her nose. She was wide-hipped and