Dancing, that's what they called his movements in escaping.
The 10 and 11 year olds would look in admiration at the 'big kids', of 13 or 14, as he made the men in blue look like the "Keystone Kops".
Coming up the stairs, they would usually find him coming down in defiance, dancing down the stairs on feet so light they barely touched the ground.
Hands to the banister, feet over his head, and with a quick flip he was half way down the next flight, bypassing the cops completely.
He continued this, jumping one staircase to the next, finally reaching the foyer.
All this, for playing on a four story apartment house roof, where complaining tenants would call the precinct house.
One evening, a new and most daring escape route, would find him running across the roof at his top speed, one foot quickly on the parapet, he would leap into mid-air.
Finally, grabbing the branch of an old nearby tree, he would land gracefully onto a garage roof, then a jump to the sidewalk, and he was gone.
It became his favorite game, an obsession, as he practiced many times in the daylight, preparing for Saturday night's event.
We waited downstairs and saw the cops rushing in to snare him as he was running across the roof, jumping.
We waited for him to appear in the darkness as we heard the loud, sickening snap, a thump, and we ran down the block, crying.
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