Nightfall Brings a Hurricane

            The pencil moved swiftly over the blank page, filling its white emptiness with sharp black lines.  Gabriel Ocampo was always drawing, but he drew frantically when he was upset.  This was one of those times.  The young gang bangers had jumped him again a block from his apartment.  Laughing, they had emptied his satchel, stomped on his schoolbooks, and drawing pad, then snapped each of his drawing pencils in half just centimeters from his face.  They sneered, pushing him back and forth between them.

            “Hey, Pollo,” jeered the biggest boy, Pedro, only three months older than Gabriel and already firmly embedded in the gang....

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