We were at the store. I pissed Hennessy in the alley, posted up by the open sign and spit some sunflower seed shells into a Nantucket bottle. LT was by the lamppost. He brushed his hair until his arms hurt while Dog Boy wore a big-ass money grin that wrapped around his whole head, and it was only right—his corner was bumping around 3K a day. I liked chilling on his corner more than my own. His little crew was funny as hell and full of innovation while all the dudes on my block except for Nick were jaded—always complaining about baby mothers, court dates, Sprint bills, being paid more, and long hours.
A Ford Taurus circled the block. The dude in the passenger seat poked his head out, “Dog Boy, we good, right?” Dog Boy waved him off.
“Who is that, Yo?” I asked.
“Nobody, Dee, just some loser-ass niggas,” he said while a pack of kids rushed the door.
Mr. Kim walked out front with his broom and yelled, “Only two school kids at a time!”
Fall, my favorite part of the year, had arrived. Everything’s orange and brown, the weather’s perfect for a jacket or tee, and school is back. Little kids in their neat uniforms were everywhere, wearing clear book bags stuffed with dittos, compositions, and number two pencils. I liked giving them twenties and telling them to stay as far away from these streets as possible.
“Kim, they late for school, let them take what they want, I got it!”
Kim laughed and patted my back. “You big big rich man, thousand dollars for you!” The kids all grabbed Little Hug juices and big bags of Takis. Some more students and parents passed the store. Tyra, Dog Boy’s sister, and his niece Muffin, a smaller version of Tyra, bent the corner, both screaming Dog Boy’s name. Muffin spotted me. “Uncle Dee! Gimmie me ten dollars!” I reached in my sock to pull some cash out as that same Taurus whipped into the intersection in front of the store and opened fire.
Dog Boy knocked his sister on the ground and crawled toward the front door of the store. I laid Muffin under my arm and shielded her from the bullets. Some flew over our heads, and bounced of the wall. The door at the convenience store shattered as Dog Boy made it in.
“Get down, get down!” we yelled to some kids. LT stuck his arm out of the shattered glass and shot back at the Taurus. Then he covered Dog Boy as they both ran out of the store licking shots at the Taurus. The dude in the passenger seat shot back as they skidded off. LT caught one in the chest that went right through, I lost a little arm meat from being grazed, and a elementary school kid was on the ground shaking next to a big bag of spilled Takis.
“Get a fuckin’ ambulance!”
Dog Boy panicked and tried to move the kid’s body but I stopped him. As a kid my uncle Gee taught me not to move a body with a bullet in it because it could bounce around and hit an organ or something. An ambulance pulled up and then another along with some cops and a fire truck. LT and the kid were both rushed to Hopkins.
Cops had the same questions and got the same answer.
“We ain’t see shit.”