Frankie was a modder, the King of Merton Park. In his triple sole, brown suede floaters, he could run fast in the dark. Big Moe stepped on his toe, so, to get Moe off his back, he played hooky to play chicken down on the railroad tracks.
Frankie and Moe rode their scooters to the corner of Camley and Rue. They waited at the end of the tunnel for the 3:09 to come through. Frankie smiled and spit on the ground; the 3:09 was on time. He knew Moe would never have the guts to be the last one over the line.
Frankie waited far too long; you could see in his face this was it. Frankie knew he'd never beat that train and he didn't give a shit.