Street Dreams

by K'wan

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Stark. Murder ain’t my thing.”

  “Bullshit! We got witnesses this time, buddy. You shot that boy in broad daylight.”

  “Stark, you better stop hitting that shit. I told you I don’t know nothing about no murder. The charges will never stick.”

  “Maybe, maybe not. If this one doesn’t stick, I’ll find something else.”

  “Now you’re fishing.”

  “Don’t think so. I guess you’ve heard that your girlfriend's daddy has gone missing?”

  “What's that got to do with me? I didn’t make that cat run off.”

  “See, that's my point. People like Baker don’t just up and leave. That type of guy doesn’t move once they root themselves someplace. I think Baker met with foul play. How about you?”

  “Fuck outta here. I ain’t have nothing to do with that.”

  “I think you do, Rio. See, a few years back, while I was riding a desk over some dumb shit, I get a phone call. Some kid named Billy Baker says that he knew something bad that he wanted to tell. The little fart goes on to tell me how he thinks his dad is screwing his sister. Me being the prick I am, I tell the kid to quit making up stories and brush him off. I never even thought about it, until we were running a check on the old man to see if we could run him down. Baker, same as little Billy.”

  “Stark,” Rio said, yawning. “You got a point to make?”

  “Yeah, Rio. I know what Trinity's old man was doing to her and I think you did, too. You might not have known right away, but you were bound to find out. Too bad it took a botched suicide attempt to bring it out. If I had known that it would lead to you sitting in a holding cell, I’d have put the shit out a long time ago.”

  “Fuck you,” Rio said, sucking his teeth.

  “Yeah, you probably got pretty pissed when you caught wind of it,” Stark continued. “Pissed enough to do him.”

  The more Stark talked the more nervous Rio got. Stark had proven to be a little smarter than he had given him credit for. But nervous as he might’ve been, Prince had taught him a long time ago never to let a person know what he was thinking. Rio kept his game face. “Stark,” he said, sitting up. “I already told you that I don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about. Now, if you don’t leave me alone, I’m gonna have you brought up on harassment charges.”

  “Big talk,” Stark sang. “Let's see if you still talk that shit on death row. I’m gonna put the needle in your arm myself, you black bastard.”

  “That's enough!” barked a voice from behind them. Stark turned around to see Lieutenant Jenkowitz step through the door accompanied by another officer. “Detective Stark, stand down.”

  “Aw, I was just having a little fun,” Stark said innocently.

  “That kind of fun can get you brought up on charges. I’ll deal with you later. Darius, you’re free to go.”

  “Free to go?” Stark asked in disbelief. “Jenkowitz, what's going on here?”

  “His lawyer is here to claim him.”

  “But—”

  “No buts, Stark. Darius Santana,” Jenkowitz said, turning to Rio, “this officer will escort you to the front, where your attorney is waiting. He will fill you in on the details of your release. I would like to apologize to you on behalf of this department as well as the NYPD.”

  The officer opened the cage and Rio stepped out. As he was leaving, he smiled over his shoulder at Stark and said, “See you around, fat boy.” With a mocking chuckle, Rio left.

  “Jenkowitz,” Stark said furiously. “How are we just gonna let that cocksucker walk?”

  “Easy, Stark. I want this guy just as bad as you do,” he assured him, “but we gotta go about it the right way. What you and your goons did to that boy was stupid. He could sue you as well as the department. I keep telling you about going off to play cowboy.”

  “I just wanted to ask him some questions. The little shit took a swing at me.”

  “Stark, I know that kid like I know you. Rio's a lot of things, but he isn’t stupid. The only way he would’ve taken a swing at you is if he was provoked. This thing is bigger than both of us. Bringing Prince down could put me in the running for captain. I don’t need you fucking it up playing lone wolf.”

  “This stinks, Jenkowitz.”

  “Don’t worry, Stark. You’ll get your chance at the kid, but we gotta be smart about it.”

  “Okay. I’ll play nice.” Stark might’ve agreed with Jenkowitz vocally, but in his mind he was planning another angle to try and catch Rio. If Jenkowitz thought he was going to steal Stark's shine then he was crazy. He would be the one to bring Rio and Prince down. In a squad car or a meat wagon, it didn’t really matter to him. It would be a raise in his pay and two less niggers on the streets.

  Slim entered Washington Square Park, clutching a beat-up black tote bag.He looked around nervously before venturing deeper into the park. He was pissed at Truck for giving him the errand to run, but it had to be done. The park was pretty much empty with the exception of a few Goths milling about. Slim moved further into the park in search of his contact.

  About ten minutes went by and nobody showed. Slim was turning to leave when he heard leaves rustling behind him. He turned, but didn’t see anything. When he turned back around to leave, a young man stood in his path. Slim drew his gun, but held off on the trigger when he saw who it was.

  “What's up, Slim?” Kane asked.

  Slim damn near jumped out of his shoes when the youngster spoke. “Damn,” he said. “Fuck you sneaking up on a nigga like that? Fool, you almost got shot.”

  “Whatever,” Kane said, waving him off. “You got our money?”

  “I got ya bread, man,” Slim said, handing him the bag. “It's all there, but you can count it if you want.”

  “Nah, I know y’all wouldn’t be stupid enough to cheat us. Tell Truck that the deed will be done.”

  “When?”

  “Slim, no disrespect, but if it ain’t your money, then it ain’t your business. You just make sure that Truck gets my message. My people stick to their word.”

  “Man, I’m tired of you coming at me all sideways. Give me the same respect that you give Truck,” he said angrily.

  “Slim, I’m not the enemy. Instead of you worrying about to whom I show the proper respect you need to be worrying about that cop catching you holding a gun.”

  Slim turned around to see who Kane was referring to and saw that there was no cop. When he turned around to comment on it, Kane was gone. Once again Slim had been left looking stupid. He made a promise to himself that he and Kane would one day finish their conversation.

  About thirty seconds after Officer Brown had delivered the news, Trinity was out the door. She knew that her dream was a bad omen, but she had never imagined this would happen. When Brown had knocked on her door, she figured he had something to tell her about her father. To her surprise he had news on Rio. He had relayed the details of Rio's beating and subsequent arrest. Trinity put her pride on hold and rushed to be with her man.

  Trinity shot out of her building like a bolt of lightning. Her every thought was consumed with Rio's safety. She could hardly believe her ears when Brown told her about the shooting, but when she thought back she remembered having heard the gunshots. Had this been a few months ago, she would’ve laughed if someone told her that Rio had murdered a man. In light of recent events it wasn’t funny anymore. The man that Trinity knew Rio to be was slowly fading and the one who replaced him had proven to be very unpredictable. Trinity was in such a hurry that she crashed into Shamel as she turned the corner.

  “Damn,” he said, rubbing his chest. “If the Jets had a DB that could hit like you, we might’ve won a Super Bowl already. Where you off to, T?”

  “I gotta go check on Rio,” she said, out of breath.

  “I was looking for that cat myself. You seen him?”

  “No, but I heard he's in jail.”

  “Jail, for what?”

  “I don’t know, Mel. They said h
e shot someone.”

  “Damn. Where they got him?” he asked in a concerned tone.

  “At the Twenty-fourth. I’m on my way over there now.”

  “Come on,” he said, grabbing her by the arm. “I’m going, too.” When Shamel had first heard the rumor of Rio killing Boo he had thought it was just talk. Now that Rio was actually locked up for it, he cursed himself for not being there to stop Rio and he cursed Cutty for allowing it to happen. They were there to make sure Rio didn’t get involved in those types of situations. Regardless of how cool Cutty and Rio were, Shamel would be sure that Cutty answered for his poor judgment.

  20

  Arnold Epstein stepped from the precinct, followed by Rio. From what Rio had been told, Prince sent the “Little Jew,” as he was affectionately called, down to fetch Rio as soon as he heard what had happened. When Rio heard the charges they were bringing against him, he had begun to seriously think about a life behind bars. But somehow, someway, Epstein had managed to free him. Didn’t really matter to Rio. He was just glad to be free.

  “Thanks, Epstein,” Rio said, lighting a cigarette. “I’m glad to be out of there.”

  “Don’t thank me,” Epstein said. “Thank Prince. He's footing the bill.”

  “Whoever. I’m just glad to be out.”

  “Don’t worry about a thing, Rio. I want you to go and get a camera and have someone take pictures of your face. We’re gonna sue these pricks. By the time I get finished, they’ll all be directing traffic in Alaska.”

  “A’ight, Epstein. I’ll get on it.”

  “Right away, Darius. I want the pictures while the bruises are still fresh. They’re probably gonna be trying to pick you up for any little thing, so you might wanna stay off of the streets for a while. You don’t have to be a prisoner in your own house or anything, but stay out of high-traffic areas. You get where I’m coming from?”

  “Yeah, I get you.”

  “Good. You need a ride somewhere?”

  “Nah, I live up the block.”

  “Okay. Prince should be contacting you sometime tonight. Other than that, stay out of trouble.” Epstein hopped into his BMW and sped off. Rio walked up the block, rubbing his bruised face. The scratches would heal over time, but the gash on his forehead might leave a scar. It didn’t matter though. The pigs couldn’t hold him. Just another perk of working for Prince.

  Rio got a bottle of water from the store on Ninety-ninth Street and started up the hill. He pondered the things that were going on in his life and wondered what the hell he was doing? Two months ago, he was just a part-time hustler trying to find himself a nine to five. Now he found himself a captain in one of the largest drug crews in New York. He had lost his girl, been beaten by the police, and committed two murders. Talk about a bad run. Rio knew he needed to check himself before the streets got the best of him.

  As he was walking up Columbus, he noticed a car coming toward him slowly. Rio immediately tensed up at the sight of the automobile. With the way things had been going lately, his nerves were shot. The car could have just been someone getting dropped off or a death squad sent for him. Rio tucked his hand in his pocket and began to back away.

  “What up, kid?” Prince asked, sticking his head out of the rear window. Rio exhaled at the sight of his mentor. It seemed like fear and paranoia had become a constant in his life. As he walked toward the grinning Prince, he couldn’t help but think how much the man looked like a tar-black Satan.

  “Get in,” Prince said, holding the door open for Rio. Rio just wanted to go home and take a shower, but being the loyalist, he got into the car. He slid into the back of the Tahoe next to his employer and it took off. He looked to the front expecting to see J, but J wasn’t at his usual position behind the wheel. Instead Prince had his son Melvin driving the car.

  Melvin was Prince's youngest boy. He looked like a smaller version of Truck, but with a missing tooth in the front. Melvin wasn’t the sharpest knife in the drawer, so Prince didn’t really involve him in major business. He just kept Melvin around to do odd jobs when the need arose. Melvin also had a drug problem that he thought no one knew about. Most people didn’t, but Rio knew because Melvin had bought crack directly from him. Normally Rio didn’t go hand to hand, but Melvin would always throw him some extra paper to keep his secret. Rio stayed true and never spoke a word of Melvin's addiction.

  “Where's J?” Rio asked.

  “Had some business to tend to in Jersey,” Prince answered.

  “What's going on, Prince?” Rio asked.

  “Not much,” Prince said. “Came down to check on my boy. I heard that you got into a little trouble.”

  “Yeah, pigs jacked me up pretty bad.”

  “So I heard. But let me ask you this; have you lost your fucking mind?”

  “What you talking about, Prince?” Rio faked ignorance.

  “Rio, don’t play with me. You know just what the fuck I’m talking about. For you to go and shoot someone in broad daylight was fucking stupid.” Prince said seriously.

  “Prince I — “

  “Let me stop you while you’re ahead,” Prince said, cutting him off. “I already know you did it, so if you planned on lying, don’t. You and that fool nigga Cutty shooting shit up like this is the Wild West.”

  “Prince, them niggaz robbed the spot. I had to show them cats that we ain’t soft.”

  “Rio, I been filling your head with knowledge all these years and you still ain’t learned shit, huh? Them niggaz who robbed the spot was supposed to get dealt with. Granted. But you wasn’t supposed to do it. That's what you got soldiers for, kid. You ain’t a grunt no more and I don’t expect you to act like this. You got at least thirty to thirty-five soldiers under you. There's no reason that I should get a call, telling me that my boy shot some dickhead over a few hundred dollars. That's chump shit. You ain’t no chump, is you?”

  “No, Prince.”

  “Then show me right, baby. Get it together. I need to know that your head is on straight, Rio.” As Prince and Rio continued talking, they never noticed the motorcycle pulling up alongside them. Rio, who was sitting behind the driver, was the first to see the bike. At first he thought it was just someone trying to pass them, but then he saw the gun. When Rio opened his mouth to warn Prince, the Hound opened fire with the P89.

  The first bullet hit Melvin in the back of the head. He was dead before he slumped over the wheel. Rio tried to duck down, but two of the bullets still managed to hit him. The first snapped his left forearm and the second cracked a rib. Rio felt the wind knocked out of him as he crashed into the car door. The Tahoe spun out of control and crashed into a streetlight. The Hound dismounted his bike and came to finish his task.

  But Prince jumped out firing his colt revolver. Two shots to the chest knocked the Hound on his ass and into the street. Rio managed to get his door open, but didn’t have the strength to get away. The loss of blood was starting to make him lightheaded. Rio's legs gave and he collapsed to the ground, but he could still see what was unfolding in the street.

  Prince advanced on Hound's prone figure with his gun on the ready. He peered at the black-clad man and saw that he wasn’t breathing. Prince was hurt, but he would live. Which was more than he could say for the would-be killer. Then Hound's eyes flicked open and his gun swung up. Before Prince could do anything, the Hound put a single bullet through Prince's skull.

  Rio let out an ear-piercing scream as he saw his mentor go down. Prince lay motionless in the streets, dead eyes staring at the sky. Hound got up off the ground and dusted himself off. He plucked the colt bullets from his body armor and shook his head. He dumped two more shots into Prince's lifeless body and came around the truck to where Rio lay.

  Rio watched the predator as he moved closer. The Hound smiled and his teeth shone like little knives in the darkness. Rio looked into the eyes of his killer and prepared to meet his fate. Just from the way that the man moved Rio knew he was a pro, and pros didn’t usually leave jobs half done. As he
lay on the ground leaking, he thought about all the things in life that he had never done and would never get to do. He also thought of the trivial argument he and Trinity had had. He loved her with all of his heart and soul, but would never get to tell her again. He and Trinity would be cheated of that sweet tomorrow. Rio shed one lone tear for the twenty-three years of his life on earth that had been wasted.

  Hound held the gun to Rio's head and fingered the trigger. But something about the young man made him hesitate. Hound looked into Rio's eyes and saw no fear, only regret. There was something about young Rio that reminded Hound of what he used to be. A dumb-ass kid trying to find his way in the world. Hound had been snatched from his life and brought into this one at an early age. He felt compassion for Rio. At that moment he decided that Rio would live. Fuck Truck. He had only paid for one body anyhow.

  Rio looked up in amazement when Hound turned and walked back to his bike. It was clear to Rio that he would live. He didn’t care why he had been spared, he was just thankful for it. The pain in Rio's side got worse as he began to cough. He tried to raise himself, but it was no use. His strength faded and with it his consciousness.

  When Trinity and Shamel arrived at the precinct the desk sergeant informed them that Rio had been released. At first they were confused, but when Shamel heard an angry Detective Stark ranting about “some little Jew,” he understood. The lion had sent the shark to receive his cub. He led Trinity back out into the streets to plan his next move.

  “Do you think it was some kind of mix-up?” she asked Shamel.

  “Nah,” he said, lighting a cigarette. “Ain’t no kinda mix-up. Prince sent Epstein to get Rio out.”

  “But how? Rio couldn’t have been in there more than a few hours.”

  “That's the kind of power that Prince is working with.”

  “Damn. So, now what?” she asked, sounding lost.

  “You might as well go on home, T. I’ll try to call Rio and let you know when I hear something.”

  “Okay, Shamel. Make sure you call.”

  “I will.” As Shamel went to hug Trinity, a group of police officers came charging out of the precinct. There were cops on foot as well as in cruisers speeding toward the projects. While Shamel looked on in confusion, he heard one of the cops say, “That Santana kid got shot.”