A Brotherly Truce
Bobby slowly let go of the banana. He looked at his pale hands, then at Baraka’s dark ones. A rare moment of quiet understanding passed between the two brothers. They looked up at Mojo, who was calmly peeling his own banana with his teeth, completely ignoring the drama below him.
“So…” Bobby muttered, rubbing his neck. “We share?”
“We share,” Baraka agreed, noddding his head.
Baraka carefully split the banana down the middle. He handed the larger half to his brother, keeping the smaller piece for himself. It was a gesture of goodwill, a peace offering to ensure no more fruit went airborne.
Bobby took the fruit and took a massive, messy bite, getting yellow paste all over his nose. He looked back at the glass, where a little girl in a yellow raincoat was waving at him. He waved back with his sticky hand, rendering the crowd into another round of soft coos and camera clicks.
“Maybe we don’t throw the food,” Bobby conceded, chewing happily. “But I still think I could have cleared the fence if I really tried.”
Baraka chuckled, a soft, coughing sound, and bumped his shoulder against his brother’s.
“In your dreams, white-out. In your dreams.”
