Cory Doctorow/Little Brother/79
swung into place in the last few seconds.
"OK," she said.
That's when the mist fell. It came out of the choppers, and we
just caught the edge of it. It made the top of my head feel like it And that's just what we did. Walked, holding hands, quickly and
was going to come off. It made my sinuses feel like they were businesslike, like two people wanting to avoid whatever trouble
being punctured with icepicks. It made my eyes swell and water, someone else was making. The kind of walk you adopt when you
and my throat close. want to pretend you can't see a panhandler, or don't want to get
involved in a streetfight.
Pepper spray. Not 200 thousand Scovilles. A million and a half.
They'd gassed the crowd. It worked.
I didn't see what happened next, but I heard it, over the sound of We reached the corner and turned and kept going. Neither of us
both me and Ange choking and holding each other. First the dared to speak for two blocks. Then I let out a gasp of air I hadn't
choking, retching sounds. The guitar and drums and bass crashed know I'd been holding in.
to a halt. Then coughing.
We came to 16th Street and turned down toward Mission Street.
Then screaming. Normally that's a pretty scary neighborhood at 2AM on a
Saturday night. That night it was a relief same old druggies and
The screaming went on for a long time. When I could see again, hookers and dealers and drunks. No cops with truncheons, no gas.
the cops had their scopes up on their foreheads and the choppers
were flooding Dolores Park with so much light it looked like "Um," I said as we breathed in the night air. "Coffee?"
daylight. Everyone was looking at the Park, which was good
news, because when the lights went up like that, we were totally "Home," she said. "I think home for now. Coffee later."
visible.
"Yeah," I agreed. She lived up in Hayes Valley. I spotted a taxi
"What do we do?" Ange said. Her voice was tight, scared. I rolling by and I hailed it. That was a small miracle there are
didn't trust myself to speak for a moment. I swallowed a few hardly any cabs when you need them in San Francisco.
times.
"Have you got cabfare home?"
"We walk away," I said. "That's all we can do. Walk away. Like
we were just passing by. Down to Dolores and turn left and up "Yeah," she said. The cabdriver looked at us through his
towards 16th Street. Like we're just passing by. Like this is none window. I opened the back door so he wouldn't take off.
of our business."
"Good night," I said.
"That'll never work," she said.
She put her hands behind my head and pulled my face toward
"It's all I've got." her. She kissed me hard on the mouth, nothing sexual in it, but
somehow more intimate for that.
"You don't think we should try to run for it?"
"Good night," she whispered in my ear, and slipped into the
"No," I said. "If we run, they'll chase us. Maybe if we walk, taxi.
they'll figure we haven't done anything and let us alone. They have
a lot of arrests to make. They'll be busy for a long time." Head swimming, eyes running, a burning shame for having left
all those Xnetters to the tender mercies of the DHS and the SFPD,
The park was rolling with bodies, people and adults clawing at I set off for home.
their faces and gasping. The cops dragged them by the armpits,
then lashed their wrists with plastic cuffs and tossed them into the #
trucks like ragdolls.
Monday morning, Fred Benson was standing behind Ms
"OK?" I said. Galvez's desk.
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