It's been a couple of days since I have seen a cop, but I don't want to see one as long as I live. 

When the cops took my brother there on that night, my brother and I were having dinner at the lodging home. We were sitting on the rugged wooden seats. The walls were bare, except for a huge metal fireplace. We were having our usual supper when cops walked in and looked around the room. They came to where we were sitting and grabbed him. They took him somewhere. I was sitting up on a rooftop where I moved after the cops took my brother. I had lived up there for two days. My best friend, Mush, also moved up there with me. 

As I was sitting up on the rooftop, I heard  Mush say, ̈ John let’s go.¨ 

¨Alright, I am coming down now,” I shouted down to Mush. I descended down the fire escape. 

¨You ready to go striking?¨ Mush asked. 

̈ Yes,” I remarked enthusiastically. 

¨Ok, I got where we are going today,̈  Mush told me. “We are going to Sixth Street.¨ 

̈ ̈Do you know what Sixth Street is like?¨ I asked.

̈ ̈No clue,¨ he responded.

After trekking five blocks, we finally got to Sixth Street. Our job once we got there was to beg people to not buy from The World or The Journal. 

We got there and saw some apartment buildings with rusty windows that would break a deafening creak. The paint was wearing off from the building to reveal chipped up concrete. There were some small food shacks that looked like the apartments, but all the buildings looked moderately the same. I was limping up to people, telling them not to buy from The World or The Journal. 

I said to a random woman, ¨ Please, Miss, don't buy from The World. They had cops send my brother to jail for telling people not to buy from them. I beg you, do not buy from The World,” I continued, making sure to add in some coughs for sympathy. The one was true, but sometimes I would make up a story. I said to one man, “Please, Sir, don't buy from The Journal. They had someone beat me up because I did not buy my usual number of paps,̈ I told him, making sure to limp. 

̈ ̈Here you go sir,̈  the man said, giving me a nickel. Sometimes if the people were very sympathetic they might give us money, but it was unusual. Mush and I would do that for a while before we would make our way to meet up with the other newsboys. 

̈ ̈Mush, you ready to go?¨ I asked. 

“In a little bit,” he replied. After he went up to the same man that gave me a nickel begging him not to buy from The World. The man also gave him a nickel. “Alright, let's go,” he remarked.

We walked to the other newsboys and gathered into a mob. I got into the middle and was hiding behind a lot of kids trying not to be seen. Some newsboys were holding up signs with slogans. We were marching around chanting, but I was not holding a sign or chanting anything; I was just staying in the middle. I saw an opening to move to the side, but I stayed in the middle.  I was doing this until two cops walked up the street. 

I walked out the opening and sprinted as hard as I could all the way back to the rooftop. When I got up there I could feel the sweat dripping down my forehead as my legs were hurting. I just sat down on the rooftop, thinking about the time I saw the cop at the lodging home, and where my brother could be. 

I was sitting on the rooftop feeling sorry for myself when Mush came up the fire escape and said, ¨John, not all cops are bad, most of them are good people. Until you can see that you will probably keep running away from every cop you see. Just so you know, those cops were just walking by; they were not even trying to arrest us. I am going back to help with the strike; you can join us if you want.¨ Just then Mush went down the fire escape. I did not end up joining the newsboys that day because I needed some time in solitude where I could gather my thoughts. 

The next day when I got up I went to a different street with Mush, but the day had become a routine: go to a new street and beg people not to buy from The World or The Journal. Then we would meet up with the other newsboys, but today felt different after yesterday; I felt like today I would run from a cop who walked by. Even though I was not going to run, I decided to take my case with me today. 

My case was something found on the street a couple of days before the cops took my brother. I carried it around to look scary so no one would try to beat me up. I had just kept it on the rooftop most days. 

When we were with all the other newsboys later in the day we were doing the same thing except I was on the side of the mob where everyone could see me, and I was chanting with the mob. I was holding my case in the air like a knight holding his sword before he charges. At that point some cops walked down the street, but I did not run not this time. I had been running from them for a while, and I was ready to stand my ground. The cops were probably just walking by, and there was nothing to worry about. As the cop got closer I kept repeating in my head, They are just walking by. There is nothing to worry about. There is nothing to worry about. 

As the cop kept getting closer and closer, I just kept thinking to myself, There is nothing to worry about, until it was pounding on the inside of my head. Then the cop was inches away from me, and he put his hand on my arm. I swung my case around as fast as I could and hit the cop in his old wrinkly face with it.

The newsboys started running and splitting up in all directions. It was just one big hoard of people running like a stampede. I had run through a back alleyway, but the cop had spotted me  through all the commotion. I could see the cop that I had hit with my case. His nose was bleeding  badly, and it was crooked like branches of a tree. His face appeared to be bright red, but it was hard to tell with all the blood on his face. He seemed very mad at me. I started running from him, but he followed me wherever I went. I would slide under and jump over obstacles and dash past other newsboys, but the cop had his mind set on getting me. 

Eventually when the cop had caught up to me, he tried to punch me. I stuck out my case and blocked a couple of punches and a kick before I said to the cop, “Are you insane?¨ The cop said nothing; he just tried to kick me again. This time I did not block it, and he kicked me in the leg. 

I ran away, and the cop kept chasing me yelling, “Stop, come back you ruffian.¨ I kept running until his voice trailed out. I was running through when I ran into Mush. 

¨I think I lost the cop on my tail. Anybody chasing you?¨ Mush asked. 

“Someone was, but I think I lost him,”I told him. 

“Let's go back to the rooftop,” Mush said, “but try not to draw too much attention to yourself.¨

“Ok,” I responded.

After figuring out where the heck we were, Mush and I made our passage back to the rooftop. This time, instead of sprinting back, we walked with all the other people. We did jump over and duck under obstacles to get home. When we got to the rooftop we just put our stuff down and went to bed, not talking to each other. 

The next day when we woke up we journeyed over to the same street with the newsboys. I was standing on the side of the mob again when a cop walked by us. It was not the same cop. That cop was probably recovering from his injury. The other cop walked up to us, but he looked familiar. He started handing out money to all of the newsboys. Each of us got a penny. Another cop walked by as he was handing out the pennies and said, “Are you serious, these are the kids who beat up the other cop?” 

“Just because one newsboy did something bad does not mean all of them are bad,” he barked back at the other cop. 

What that cop said stuck with me for a while, and I could not get it out of my head. When I was going home I casually strolled back to the rooftop, walking by every cop without a care in the world.       

-Ryan DeSaccia