"That's business. The store is still partly ours. Mama's just looking after our interests."
"If you say so," he said.
I shoved him hard. I drew a line in the snow with my toe. "I do say so. Step across the line if you say otherwise!"
Oly got to his feet and looked at me. "I don't want to fight with you, James. I was just tellin' you what my Mama said."
"Well, your Mama ought to mind her own business," I said, baiting him.
That did it. He stepped over and popped me one, right in the nose. Oly and I had been chums since we could walk, and we'd had a few fights in our days but this time it was different. I was so angry at him, at my Mama, at my Pa, at New Jerusalem, and we just kept on swinging at each other until Mr Adelson came out to ring the bell and separated us. My nose was sore and I was limping, and I'd torn Oly's jacket and bent his fingers back, so he cradled his hand in the crook of his arm.
"Boys!" Mr Adelson said. "What the hell do you think you're doing? You're supposed to be friends."
His language shocked me, but I was still plenty angry. "He's no friend of mine!"
I said.
"That's fine with me," Oly said and glared at me.
The other kids were milling around, and Mr Adelson gave us both a look that could melt steel, then rang the bell.