Ginga: a Tor.com Original by Daniel José Older

Author:Daniel José Older
Language: eng
Format: mobi
Tags: Fantasy, Short Stories, Science Fiction
Publisher: Tor
Published: 2015-05-13T07:00:00+00:00

Am I worried? No. Not worried, but a growing unease rumbles through my core. I don’t have a name for it, can’t trace its roots. It’s been there for the past couple days, I realize, unnamed and rising. I’m just getting myself together so I can ignore the unease when I see Kia sitting next to her friend on the bench. Then I see her black eye. The unease erupts into a full-blown swath of rage.

“What the fuck happened?” I say, quickening my pace as I cross the playground. “Who I gotta kill?”

Before Kia can answer, her friend is up in my face. “The fuck are you, homeboy?”

“I . . .”

“You gonna back up off my friend ’fore I—”

Kia’s hand lands on her shoulder. “Karina, it’s cool, girl. That’s Carlos, he’s my people.”

Karina glares up at me for a solid three seconds before backing off. I smile—not to seem condescending, I’m just relieved Kia has someone else around, someone her age, who will throw herself in the line of fire to protect her. I know I would.

“Karina, Carlos. Carlos, Karina.”

I nod at the girl and she appraises me with a squint and an eye roll. “What happened?” I ask, controlling my breath and the urge to incinerate something.

“It’s fine, it was an accident is all.”

Did the disaster ghost strike already? Seems there are no accidents these days . . . “Here?”

“Nah, man. At the rec center. Capoeira-related injury.”

“What is this Capoeira of which you keep speaking?” I ask.

“It’s a fighting style or a dance or both, depending on who you ask. Roots in Africa, flourished in Brazil. They came up with it during slavery when they had to disguise their combat training as dance. I suck at it.”

“She’ll be aight,” Karina puts in. “She was struck by an angel.”

Kia swats her. “Shut it.”

“A Brazilian angel.”

Kia wraps both arms around her friend from behind and covers the girl’s mouth. “Ignore her, C. What did you wanna ask about?”

“You take care of all these kids, right?” I ask over Karina’s muffled giggles.

She pulls away Kia’s hands and straightens herself. “Indeed I do.”

“Every Saturday?”

“Unless the Ministry of Whiteness decides to take a night off.”

I squint at her. “The Min . . .”

“Never mind, C,” Kia says. “She here every Saturday, yes.”

“You see the old guy get hit by that wheelbarrow from the construction site last weekend?”

Karina shakes her head and puts a stick of gum in her mouth. “Uh-uh.” She offers me a piece. I decline. Kia grabs one and starts chewing loudly. “I heard about it though. And the lady who ran into a city bus the next day. She lived, though, I heard. But yeah. Whole lotta disaster up in these streets, man.”

“You seen anything weird, like, around the park?”

“Besides white people jogging through Bed-Stuy after dark?” Kia says. They both fall out laughing for a minute and then collect themselves.

“Nothing really. Same ol’ usuals. Drasco and his cat parade. The cops making rounds. That’s it.”

“What about the kids?”

“You wanna ask ’em?” Karina stands and makes a pretend megaphone with her hands.

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