If I’d known it was Gory’s bag I never woulda opened it. That guy’s the meanest, scariest hoodlum this town’s ever seen. Also the best Rabble Runner ever. Since he took charge the other gangs have clear moved out.

Maybe I shouldn’t have opened that bag even thinking it was Tom’s. But Gory had been pressuring me to “prove myself”, like he might kick me out. I CAN'T lose the Rabblers. I’d be dog-meat in a week, and probably my aunt with me. I was desperate.

Getting the lock off the bag was easy. I could’ve cut through the leather but that wouldn’t prove nothing. A kid could do that. But none of the others are good with picks. I figured if I could prove I’d got into Tom’s stuff that’d knock me up the pole and him down a few notches.

At first I couldn’t understand what I was seeing. Books. Not dirty ones, either - picture books. For kids. One stuck out at me, “Flopsey’s Beach Party”. I read that to my niblings all the time. A house favourite, especially my lil niece. She acts out the dances and everything.

I flipped through the bag. Baffled. Why’d Tom - or anyone - stash childhood mementos in the safehouse? Didn’t make sense.

Then, under the books, I find another puzzle: a sheet of scribbles, again reminding me of my niblings, reading “Gregory” over and over in shaky, uneven letters.

Took me way too long to put this together.

I wasn’t digging in Tom’s stuff. I’d broken into GORY'S bag.

Broke into a cold sweat. I was dead. I was SOOOOO dead.

Was there any way I could salvage this?

My mind raced. Swirled. Suddenly something hit me.

This stuff… the books, the writing practice… they didn’t look old. Not like they’d been in a bag for years and years. And why would Gory keep ‘em here if he wasn’t using them?

I sucked air through my teeth as memories bubbled up.

Gory NEVER texted or anything, only phone calls. Said it was to make sure we didn’t leave a trail. Alright, fair enough for gang business, but there’d been plenty of stuff he coulda….

And the one time he did the gang shop he picked up cashew butter rather’n peanut butter and said it was because the packaging looked the same, which alright fair anybody could make that mistake but…

Always checked news and all via the radio, never the website, which I’d thought kinda old-fashioned but I never imagined…

Never woulda crossed my mind that maybe GORY CAN'T READ.

I zipped the bag up again and clicked the lock shut. Reeling.

Did anybody else know? I couldn’t imagine they did. Tom, Yvonne, all of them… they’d take being illiterate as a sign of weakness. That Gory’s an idiot. Not fit to lead.

If this got out, the Rabble’d implode.

Hang on…

My pulse slowed, thoughts slotting together into a plan.

Yeah. Alright. I could swing this.

I had to.

***

So when the rest of the gang gets back in I put on my best swagger to greet them. “Hey, bossman! Got a scheme I wanna run past you.”

“Yeah?” Gory raises an eyebrow and gestures for me to continue.

Everyone else is watching. Listening. No go.

“Ahh in the back?”

Gory shoots me a sharp look. My nerves must be showing. But he shrugs and waves me into his ‘office’.

I say nothing until the door’s securely shut. “So, er, I’d been thinking about, y’know how you were saying I oughta find my niche, figure out what I can do for the Rabble…”

“Uh-huh.” Gory drops with careless grace into his chair, never once taking his wary eyes off my face as he leans back and props his feet up. The picture of power and confidence.

I lower my voice. Just in case someone’s loitering by the door. “How’s about I teach you to read?”

The silence weighs six tons. Gory’s expression is frozen, his eyes boring into mine. He must be thinking a mile a minute.

Sweat’s trickling down my back. I press on “Can help cover for ya in the meantime, too. S’just, if the other’s found out… it’d be no end of trouble, right? For all of us. Could be the end of the Rabble. And I can’t afford that. Rabble fractures, Vipers move back in, my family’s in the soup.”

Gory’s eyes are narrowed now. Way better’n my lil niece at reading between lines. He ain’t stupid.

There’s no way he can off me while I’m in the gang. That’d start a war. And if he kicks me out, I can spill - maybe even to the Vipers, try and get good graces for my aunt. So he’d have to move real fast to silence me, without help from the others.

ORRRRR… he puts me at his right hand and I help cover his shameful secret.

His feet slide off the desk and thump to the floor as he leans forward, his mouth tight. “How long’ve you known?”

I’m not going to admit to digging through his bag. Instead I demur “Put pieces together, like. You have trouble with labels. Never flip through mosta the magazines and stuff.”

Gory sucks at his teeth in a rueful tsk.

“It’s not obvious. You’re slick.”

“Don’t you DARE make fun’a me-” Gory growls, and I hastily assure him “Hey now, I’m being real, bossman! Impressed you’ve done all this with one arm behind your back.”

That praise, and me calling him the boss, lowers his hackles. Now he’s pensive.

After chewing it over he says “There IS some stuff that’d… be easier with help. Been wanting to move into the intel crowd, but…”

He trails off with a wince and I risk a sympathetic nod.

“So, we’ll tell ‘em that was your plan.” Gory leans back again, decision made. “You’ll… help me with that.”

“Yessir. Got to keep those Vipers out.”

“Yeah.” Gory gives a thin smile. “Never could stand vipers.”