Street Dreams

by K'wan

  “What up?” Truck slurred. “How y’all niggaz gonna have a party and not invite me?” Truck lumbered over to the conference table where the Capos were seated. Of all of the places to stand, he decided to stand near Rio. As the big man stared down at him he could smell booze seeping out of him.

  “Sorry I’m late, fellas,” Truck said. “I had some shit I had to take care of. But now that I’m here, let's get it started. Raise up, lil nigga. You in my seat.”

  Rio started to get up, but Prince waved him back down. “You keep ya ass glued to that chair, Rio. Truck, you know what time we do our thang, so keep your excuses.”

  “Come on, Daddy,” Truck whined. “I had a situation that demanded my personal attention. I get here a li’l late and find the young boy all cozy in my spot. Fuck, you bringing him in to replace me or something? Well, if that's the case you’ve wasted your time. There's only one me, baby.”

  “Son, why don’t you go ahead and talk out ya ass somewhere else. This gathering is for gentlemen, not street punks. You wanna carry ya self as such, go upstairs and hang out with the rest of the gun clappers.”

  “A’ight, Daddy. Damn. All I was trying to do was let Rio know he had taken the wrong seat.”

  “Truck,” Prince said, getting to his feet. “You done already fucked up by coming up in here drunk. Don’t push your luck by trying me, ya hear? I call the mutha fucking shots round here. Ain’t nobody replacing nobody. Rio's got his spot and that's just the way it is. If you felt so strongly about it, you should’ve had ya ass here to cast ya vote. Now, shut the fuck up about the seat and let us continue with our business.”

  Truck wanted to keep it going, but decided to let it slide. He knew that if he got his father started they might all be there for hours. Instead of making everyone else suffer, Truck just grabbed a folding chair and sat down. Weak-ass niggaz, Truck thought to himself, None of you niggaz got a spine. Let his father do him while his so-called Capos bowed and kissed his ass. It was only a matter of time before Truck would set his plan into motion. Then he would show the Capos what real power was about. All would bow before Truck or die. Especially Rio's punk ass.

  Rio silently watched the exchange between father and son. He knew the whole seat thing was an attempt to punk him, but he didn’t feed into it. He remained the poised gentleman and was offered the seat to his senior Capo. Rio didn’t know what it was that made Truck hate him so. This was the second time Truck tried to come at him sideways in as many meetings.

  Gentleman that he was, Rio wasn’t going to let too much shit slide. He was the greenest of the group so he played his position, but he wouldn’t be green forever. Niggaz in the hood already had love for Rio. Now that he was the nigga running things in his hood, that love would double.

  Rio really had no stomach for the grind and in many ways it would work to his advantage. While most of the Capos were known to be brutal and ruthless in their hoods, Rio would rule with fairness. He was going to make sure that everyone down his chain of command saw paper. Even if you were just a pitcher you could eat if you remained loyal to Rio. If he played his cards right, he could have quite a little following.

  Until he got his weight up Rio would just do his part and remain silent. Once he had a solid team of soldiers behind him, it would be a different story. Let Truck get crazy, he thought to himself. The fact that he was Prince's son gave him a lot of leeway, but not enough to keep shooting his mouth off. One thing killing his wifey's father had taught him was that if pushed, there was no telling how far a man would go.

  Trinity sat in her bedroom puffing yet another cigarette. The Neo-Soul CDs that usually picked her spirits up did nothing more than aggravate her at the moment. Billy had been quizzing her all day about where she thought their father might be. For every excuse she gave him, he came up with two more questions. When he asked about Rio she nearly bit his head off. Since then the questions had stopped.

  Trinity felt as if her bedroom walls were beginning to close in on her. The very air itself seemed to be trying to strangle her. She decided that a breath of fresh air might do her some good. She threw on some old jeans and wrapped her hair in a scarf. After grabbing her leather jacket, Trinity was out the door.

  As soon as she got into the night air she began to feel better. The streets were empty aside from a few crack heads trying to score a fix. Most people steered clear of the streets at that hour of the morning, but Trinity liked to take midnight strolls. She wasn’t worried about anyone trying anything. Most of the people in the projects knew her. If someone did decide to get crazy, they were in for a rough time. Trinity was hardly ever without a blade.

  She strolled through the projects taking in the sights and scents of the ghetto. To some people the projects were a horrible and unwelcome sight. Crack infested the streets and the kids pissed in and destroyed the very buildings their families had to live in. Trinity didn’t quite see it that way. I mean, sure the projects were falling apart, but she remembered a time when they weren’t. Believe it or not her projects weren’t always that way. Douglass project was once a nice place to live. Trinity could remember a time when her mother used to leave the front door unlocked. But that was a time long ago. Just like most of the other hoods, Douglass was street-poisoned.

  Trinity looked over near the grassed-in area and saw a familiar figure swaying on the iron bench. At first Trinity was just going to keep walking, but decided against it. She bit her bottom lip and headed in the direction of the benches. Looking at Sally in the moonlight she realized for the first time just how beautiful she was.

  Sally had a sharp jaw line and thin nose making her look slightly mixed. She wasn’t light-skinned, nor was she as dark as Rio. She was a smooth butterscotch. Even though it had been slightly discolored from years of drinking, her skin still held a certain glow. Her once beautiful hair hung down her back in a tangled mess.

  Trinity couldn’t help but feel sorry for Sally. Back in the later ‘70s she was a pretty popular blues singer. People would come from all over and pack the lounges to hear Sally-May do her thing. She had even recorded a gold album. That was big back then. Old Sally was on top of her game until Rio's dad came along. The young militant got her knocked up and that pretty much put her singing on hold. Then he got in all that trouble with the Feds, which only made matters worst. When Rio's dad went away, Sally turned to the bottle for comfort. It had been downhill ever since.

  Sally must’ve felt Trinity because she turned around suddenly. At first her face was twisted in a mass of anger but after seeing who it was, she softened it. She smiled at her son's girlfriend and motioned for her to sit down. Trinity hesitated for a moment because she really didn’t feel like talking, but if she didn’t she would’ve seemed rude. Trinity decided to spare the old singer a few ticks and sat down.

  “Hey, Trinity,” Sally said in a raspy voice. “What you doing out here at this hour?”

  “Hey, Ms. Sally,” Trinity said, smiling. “I was just out getting some air.”

  “Girl, you better be careful in these streets. These crazy-ass crack-heads will steal the clothes off yo back.”

  “I don’t worry about stuff like that. I mean, I know the streets are dangerous and all, but danger lurks everywhere. If I can’t feel safe in my own projects, I can’t feel safe nowhere.”

  “Hmpf, say what you want. You better take it from a gal that's been around for a while.”

  There was a brief silence then Trinity picked up the conversation. “So, how's Rio?”

  “Shit,” Sally said. “I was gonna ask you the same thing. I don’t see our boy like that. He spends more time with you than he does at home. Had the nerve to jump on Willie the other night. Willie was just joking with Rio and he went all crazy.”

  Trinity raised an eyebrow at this new bit of information. She knew Willie was an asshole and probably said something slick. Slowly but surely the pieces were starting to come together. Rio wasn’t a punk, yet he wasn’t the kind of person to just snap like that. It seemed a
s if the last few day's turn of events led him to what he had done.

  “I don’t know what's gotten into that boy, Trinity,” Sally said sadly. “Lately he's been so… I don’t know? It's like the older he gets, the more he reminds me of his father. He was so damn bullheaded.”

  “Don’t worry about it, Sally,” Trinity said, patting her hand. “Rio's just going through the motions.”

  “I know, Trinity. A man is gonna be a man, but I still worry. Does he ever talk to you?”

  “Well…sometimes. But you know how he is. He keeps everything bottled up. But it's like I said. Rio's just going through the motions. He's down about a lot of stuff. You know with being unemployed and — “

  “Oh, knock it off, Trinity,” Sally interrupted. “We’re both adults, so let's keep it real. I know what my son is out here doing. I don’t condone it, but he's grown. I’ve been running the streets longer than both of you have been alive. I know the havoc she can play on a person's soul. Rio is strong and smart as a whip. I’ll give him that. But I know my son, Trinity. He ain’t built for what they serving out here. I ain’t saying that he can’t handle his business, but… I dunno. The game has a strange way of corrupting a man. I don’t want that for my boy.”

  Trinity just sat there and absorbed what Sally was saying. If she had been drinking, they’d have hardly gotten this deep. Strangely enough, the sober side of Sally held the wisdom that comes with age. It just goes to show how much a dependency could alter a person's mind.

  Before the conversation could go any further, Willie came staggering up from the parking lot. His head was wrapped in a dingy bandage, but that still didn’t keep him from his nightly lurking. From the shape of the package in his hand Trinity knew what time it was. She could hardly tolerate Willie sober so there was no way she was going to sit around him drunk. Trinity took that as her cue to leave. As soon as she stood to leave, Willie started in.

  “Well, well,” he said, licking his lips. “What's going on, li’l lady?”

  “Chilling,” Trinity said, walking off.

  “Hold on, T. You ain’t gotta leave on my account. I brought a li’l taste for me and Sally. You’re more than welcome to join us.”

  Trinity looked at him as if he had lost his mind. He was playing himself by flirting with her in front of Sally. If he knew like she did he’d be easy. With the way Rio had been acting lately he could very well find himself missing for it. “I’m good,” Trinity said graciously. “I’ll talk to you later, Sally.” Trinity headed for the ave when Sally called out to her.

  “Trinity.” Trinity stopped short and turned around. “Take care of our boy.”

  “I will,” Trinity said, smiling. “I will.”

  12

  Rio was awakened early the next morning by Sally banging on his door. “Darius!” she shouted. “You hear me, boy? Somebody's on the phone for you.” Rio sat up, rubbing his eyes. He wondered who it could be calling him on his mother's phone? Anyone who needed to reach him could call his cell or the phone in his room. Rio slid out of bed and made his way to the door. Might as well get the phone. Sitting there wondering who it was wouldn’t satisfy his curiosity.

  Rio opened his door and faced his mother. It was the first time they had seen each other since the fight the other night, so a bit of tension hung in the air. As Sally handed him the phone, she cast a puzzling glare. Rio caught his mother's look and felt a little guilty. He figured she was still salty from the other night. As he took the cordless from her outstretched hand, he made a mental note to apologize to her. Little did he know Sally's worries ran deeper than a few words.

  Rio cradled the phone to his ear and closed his room door. “Who dis?”

  “What up, youngster?” J said on the other end.

  “J? How the hell you get this number?”

  “Don’t sweat the small stuff, kid. We got ways. Listen, I got the rundown on ya man. He checks out, but that don’t mean shit. Douglass is your thing so that's your decision to make. But, if you bring this nigga in, then you’re responsible for his actions.”

  “A’ight, J. I can dig it.”

  “I hope so, youngblood. Really I do. Your man is gonna meet you in front of your building in about half hour. Time to punch in.” “Punch in? J, it's like seven-thirty.”

  “And? You better nix that small-time thinking kid. What you used to do, was part-time. This here is a full-time gig. You gotta know what's going on in ya hood twenty-four seven. Now, you can do what you like, but my advice for you would be to get yo ass up and hit the streets.” Rio was about to protest further, but J had already hung up. Rio was tempted to get back in the bed but decided against it. He probably wouldn’t be able to go back to sleep anyhow. Might as well hit the block.

  Rio sifted through his closet to find a fit for the day. After a brief glance out the window, he saw mister sun peeking back at him. The outfit he selected was a white, hooded sweat suit. He looked at the rack in his corner, which held at least ten fitted hats. A black Sox hat was his choice for the day. He wasn’t really one for hats, but he felt like wearing one. After pulling his black and white timbs out of the box he was set.

  Rio showered as quickly as he could, jumped into his clothes and headed for the door. He glanced at his mother's closed bedroom door and was tempted to knock. They had both said and done a lot of things they shouldn’t have. One day they would make it right, but it could wait. Rio had to go to work.

  Rio stepped out of his building and inhaled the morning air. The slight chill felt good in his chest. He looked at the sky and smiled. He spent so much of his time running around at night that he had almost forgotten how beautiful the sun was. He used to get up and go job hunting a few times a week, but he hadn’t done it in a while. Hustling to make ends meet had consumed quite a bit of his time.

  Rio felt someone standing behind him, causing him to spin around. He was relieved to see that it was Cutty. Cutty was dressed in black jeans and a black Fubu sweatshirt. Rio made a note to himself to take Cutty shopping for some brighter colors.

  “Sup, boss?” Cutty asked sarcastically.

  “Oh, you got jokes, huh? You the street legend, Cutty.”

  “Nah, I ain’t got nothing on you, big-time.”

  “Fuck you, Cutty.” The two men danced around and threw fake punches. After the ritual greeting, Rio said. “Say, I hear you got a call from ol’ J?”

  “Yeah, kid. I was gonna ask you about that shit. You gave them dudes my number?”

  “Hell, nah. Cutty, you know I don’t rock like that. Ol’ boy said he was gonna run a check on you before I put you down. You know I spoke positive in ya favor, but these old-timers…they second-guessing everybody. Ya know?”

  “I feel you, Rio. I guess that's why they’ve been on top for so long.”

  “That's for damn sure. Them niggaz is like the Feds. Not only did they get your number, but they called my mom's line a li’l while ago.”

  “Fuck outta here?” Cutty asked in shock.

  “Straight up,” Rio said seriously. “J is the one that told me you were out here. Seems like them old niggaz got a line on everything. Fuck it, let's hit the block.”

  The two young men strolled up the block to oversee their operation. The ave was filled with the working class and the schoolkids making their way to wherever they had to go. Rio, nodded to those he knew and kept it moving. As the duo reached the corner of 104th they spotted the shift manager, School Boy. School Boy was a tall, light-skinned kid who wore his hair in a close fade. He got his name because of the way he was known to dress. Button-up shirts and cardigan sweaters. The wire-rimmed glasses that sat on the bridge of his nose made him look more like a teacher than a spot runner. But as they say, “you can’t judge a book by its cover.” School Boy had a nose for money and his till was hardly ever short. Even when it was over, he never cuffed any of the money. School Boy was a good dude.

  “Sup, my nigga?” School Boy said, extending his hand.

  “What it is, baby,” Rio r
esponded, giving him dap. “How we looking out here?”

  “Well, we had some trouble finding someone to pitch, but we got it squared away. George is holding it down in back of the center.”

  “George,” Rio said with raised eyebrows. “What happened to that other kid, the one Cory was whipping on? Nigga know he got a debt to work off.”

  “Oh, I forgot. You disappeared last night so you didn’t hear.” “Hear what, School Boy?”

  “Some niggaz who work for Truck came through here last night and snatched him. I tried to tell them that you had him out here, but they wasn’t trying to hear me. They said that if you had a problem with it that you should see Truck.”

  “Mutha fucka,” Rio mumbled angrily. Truck was out of line with this stunt. He knew that Rio had the boy out there trying to get his money back and he touched him anyway. Rio had no doubt Truck had done this to try and undermine Rio's authority. The difference this time was that Rio intended to step to him behind this shit.

  “Where Truck at now?” Rio asked.

  “I think he's over on 107th,” School Boy answered.

  “A’ight, School Boy. Hold the block down for me. I’ll be back in a few.” Rio tapped Cutty on the arm and headed north on Columbus.

  Trinity sat in the lobby of the Twenty-fourth Precinct, waiting to speak to an officer. As Rio had instructed her, she went to file a missing person's report on her father. She looked around at the officers doing this and that and felt her stomach flip-flop. What if they know I’m lying? she thought to herself. Rio had killed her father, but what had happened to the body? She knew if she wanted to keep her man out of jail as well and not incriminate herself, she had to keep her game face. As Trinity sat waiting, a dark-skinned man wearing blue jeans and a white T-shirt walked past her on his way to the back. The young-looking officer spared Trinity a brief smile. She smiled back and turned her head away. An officer came out of the back room holding a clipboard. He was a tall brown-skinned man with a short Afro. He didn’t look all stiff like the rest of the officers. This young man had a sort of laid back air about him. Something about the way he looked at her made Trinity feel a little easier.