Street Dreams

by K'wan

  “Okay, shorty,” Truck said. “If you’re Kane, then you already know why I’m here?”

  “Yes. If my information is correct, you need someone to die. Am I right?”

  “Right as rain, baby. I need someone to get gone. Permanent like. I hear you get down for yours, shorty. Can you do it?”

  “Hold up, man,” Kane said, raising a gloved hand. “First things first. Let's talk paper.”

  “Oh, for sure, man. How much you gonna charge me for the job?”

  “One body…gimmie a hundred thousand dollars.”

  “One hundred grand. Man, you can’t be serious? I ain’t asking you to kill the pope.”

  “Shit, you might as well be. Truck, I ain’t never been stupid. I know just who you want dead. Why you want Prince dead isn’t my concern, but that's the price. Take it or leave it.”

  Truck was a little disturbed by the youngster's vast knowledge for his business. He always played his hand close to his chest, so having a stranger be so knowledgeable of him didn’t bode well. It was too late to turn back now.

  “A’ight, Kane,” Truck sighed. “I can get the money up, but how do I know you’re as good as they say?”

  “First of all,” Kane said, plucking an imaginary piece of lint from his sweater. “I don’t know where you got your info, but I don’t go on jobs anymore.”

  “So, what, you just popping all this shit for nothing?”

  “Never for nothing, Truck. I just said that I don’t go on jobs anymore. I never said it wouldn’t get done.”

  “Come on, dog. You bringing other niggaz to the table that I don’t even know?”

  “Oh, you can meet him anytime.”

  “So, where the fuck is he?”

  “Right behind you.”

  Truck turned around and scanned for the so-called killer. At first he didn’t see anybody, but as his eyes strained into the darkness they picked out a shape coming toward them. He stepped into the light so Truck could get a good look at him. When Truck took in the full scope of the young man, his hopes fled.

  The man that stood before him looked more like a skeleton than anything else. He was tall, but not as tall as Truck. He had a long thin face that gave him a caninelike appearance. His black eyes looked Truck up and down, but didn’t show one drop of emotion. The three-quarter leather jacket did little to hide the form-fitting body armor he wore. The stranger's fingers looked like worms hanging from the sleeve of his jacket as he looked from Truck to Kane.

  “Truck,” Kane said, stepping forward. “This is the man who will do the job. This is the Hound.”

  Truck wanted to explode but managed to hold his temper in check. “The what?” He snapped. “Kane, what the fuck are you trying to pull? This nigga looks like he just staggered out of a meth clinic. If he's gonna go at Prince, he's gonna need an army behind him.”

  “Don’t be so quick to judge, Truck.”

  “Quick to judge, my ass. Fuck makes this nigga so special?”

  “Maybe a demonstration? Hound,” Kane said in a commanding voice.

  The man known as Hound stepped forward, showing Truck his palms. Hound rubbed his palms together and spread them again. When he held his hands out, in his palms he had two star-shaped blades that looped around his middle fingers like rings. With a flick of his thumbs, Hound set the blades to spinning.

  Truck was so fascinated by the demonstration that he almost didn’t see Hound whip one of the blades in his direction. The blade whistled past Truck's ear. If Hound had wanted to hit Truck, there would’ve been nothing the big man could’ve done about it. Truck was very impressed with the young man's speed. Before anyone could say anything, Slim spoke up.

  “What the fuck!” Slim yelled, grabbing his ear. The blade had whistled past Truck and nicked Slim's left ear. “What the hell is going on?”

  Truck just looked at Slim slack jawed. If he wasn’t sure of Hound's qualifications before, he was a believer now. The Hound was the truth.

  “I take it by the look on your face that you’re impressed?” Kane asked.

  “Yeah,” Truck responded. “But a fancy knife trick ain’t gonna kill Prince.”

  “Don’t worry, Truck. You’ll get your body, as soon as we get our money.”

  “You’ll get ya money, Kane. I wouldn’t cross you.”

  “I should hope not, Truck. Round here, we take it in blood. Ya heard?”

  “You threatening me?”

  “Nah, I’d never threaten a dude that owes me a hundred grand.”

  “Well, Prince ain’t dead yet, so I don’t owe you shit.”

  “Like I said, you’ll get your body. By the end of the month, Prince will be no more.”

  With their business conducted, Truck and Slim got up outta Dodge. Kane and the Hound watched them leave before speaking. “So,” Kane began. “what’d you think?”

  “I don’t like that cat,” Hound said, speaking for the first time. “Something stinks about him.”

  “Yeah, him and his weak-ass man.”

  “Nah, Kane. Don’t sleep on the other kid. That boy had killer written all over him.”

  “I know you ain’t scared, H?”

  “Fuck outta here. You talking to the Hound, remember?”

  “Yeah, I remember, nigga. You tried to come at me once, remember?”

  “Yeah, I remember. You were the only person to ever get one up on me. That seemed like so long ago.”

  “I know it, man. So what now?”

  “Shit, I’m hungry. I ain’t eat all night.”

  “Me either. I got it, let's hit that party over by NYU.”

  “Yeah, that’ll work. Probably gonna be a lot of honeys up in that joint.”

  “So let's do the damn thang, baby.”

  “Say, Kane,” Hound said, pausing, “what was all that shit about?”

  “What?” Kane asked.

  “You know what I’m talking about. All that, ‘Danger only finds those who seek to avoid it?’ What was that all about?”

  “I always wanted to say some shit like that to a nigga, Hound. You know I love the drama.”

  “Do you. Spitting proverbs and shit.”

  “Me?” Kane asked, smiling. “What about you with the little knife trick?”

  “He wanted a demonstration.”

  “Fronting ass nigga,” Kane said, playfully punching Hound. The two killers traded fake punches and giggled their way east.

  Truck was feeling good because he just knew he had a bad-ass dude working for him now. Little did he know, he had just released hell up in Harlem.

  Rio and Trinity stood on the observation deck of the Empire State Building, looking out at the city. The lights against the night sky were quite a sight to behold. New York might have been a virtual concrete jungle, but its skyline was a marvel. The array of lights and structures that danced in the distance were beautiful indeed, but only a rouse to hide the madness that infected the streets below.

  “It's beautiful up here,” Trinity said.

  “I know, ma,” Rio said, pulling her closer. “Sometimes I come up here to think, ya know? Something about being way up here gives me a feeling of peace.”

  “Yeah, I see what you mean. You can even see the stars from this high up. It's almost like you can reach up and touch them.”

  “You like the stars?”

  “Yeah, even though I don’t get to see them very often. I remember when I was little, my mother would take us to her sister's house upstate. You can see all of the stars in that clean country air. I used to lay out on her lawn and stargaze for hours.”

  “Well,” Rio said. “Since you like the stars so much, pick one.”

  “Quit playing, Rio.”

  “I’m serious. Pick one.”

  “Okay,” Trinity said, scanning the sky. “How about that one there?”

  “Ah, good choice. That star there is actually one of three that make up Orion's belt.”

  “Orion?” she asked, confused.

  “Yeah. He was a mythologica
l hero of sorts. But since you like the star so much it's yours. Fuck Orion,” he said playfully. “From now on we’ll call it ‘Trinity's heart.’ One star for each of us. You, me, and Billy.”

  “You’re so silly, Rio,” she said, pushing him. Trinity's smile slowly faded and gave way to silence.

  “What's wrong?” Rio asked, concerned for his boo. “Did I say something to upset you?”

  “No,” she said waving him off. “Just remembering the dreams of a foolish young girl. It's silly.”

  “Trinity, ain’t nothing silly about dreaming. What we dream and strive for makes us unique.”

  “I know, Rio. Sometimes I just wonder if I’ll ever get to live in a house of my own where I can stargaze all I want?”

  “If I have anything to do with it, you will. T, we ain’t gonna live in the projects forever. I plan to make a life for us. Each and every one of us in these streets has a dream. Mine is to be free.”

  “Then I guess we share the same dream, Rio.”

  “A dream that will one day become reality. I promise, ma. One day we’ll live out our dream and be free of this bullshit. I promise, Trinity. Just have a little faith in your man.”

  “Rio, you’re about the only thing in this world that I still have faith in. When everyone else abandoned me, you were in my corner.”

  “And I always will be. Trinity, I love you in this life and I’ll love you in the next. We’ll see our dream come to life and be free of these streets. Just keep your faith, ma. Keep your faith.”

  16

  Trinity strolled across 125th Street with her girls Alex and Joyce. The sun was shining and her boo-boo had given her three thousand dollars to go get herself some items for the summer. The streets had been good to Rio over the last few weeks. He in turn was good to her. His career change was benefiting both of them nicely.

  “Girl,” Joyce said. “You got a rack of shit.”

  “I know it,” Trinity said, shifting one of her bags. “I really appreciate y’all helping me with all this.”

  “Trinity,” Alex said. “Cut it out. You know you my girl and I’m gonna hold you down.”

  “I know that's right,” Joyce butted in. “And the Coach bags you bought us didn’t hurt none.”

  Trinity caught Joyce's slick-ass remark, but didn’t follow up on it. Rio showed Trinity love and she in turn showed love to her peoples. That's how it went with Trinity. Alex was her girl, so she was gonna live regardless, but she bought Joyce a bag just for being there. The comment she made just proved what Trinity already knew. Joyce was a low-end bitch who wasn’t used to anything.

  “T,” Alex said. “You sure know how to shop.”

  “I had a lot of catching up to do,” Trinity said. “It's been so long since I been shopping, I needed a little bit of everything.”

  “Shit, I think you got that and then some.”

  “I know that's right,” Joyce said. “Rio is setting you out, girl. Since he hooked up with Prince full-time, he's that nigga. You better get him for all he's worth before some other bitch try and slide up in your spot.”

  “Look, Joyce,” Trinity said, a little irritated. “Just because Rio's had a little good fortune, don’t move me. We’ve been down for each other since before he was getting money. Our relationship ain’t hardly based on material things. I would love him if he didn’t have a pot to piss in. Sure, the money helps, but that ain’t what we about. And as far as another bitch sliding up in my spot, I ain’t worried about it. Cause even if he did decide to play his self and slip one of these bitches a little dick, they ain’t me. Ain’t a bitch out here that can take my spot.” Trinity made sure she was staring directly at Joyce when she said the last part.

  Joyce caught the venom in Trinity's voice, but let it ride. Trinity might’ve thought she was the queen, but a nigga was going to be a nigga regardless. She could prance around and act like she had her shit tight, but Joyce was an authority on other people's men. Once a bitch came along with a fatter ass or a better head game, Rio's tail would be wagging like the rest of them.

  Trinity and her team made another pit stop at Dr. Jay's, off of Seventh Avenue. Trinity needed a pair of Timbs to go with the jeans she had bought. When they got upstairs there was a group of guys doing a little shopping of their own. As the Trio passed they drew stares from the fellas, but kept it moving. The dudes were all wearing trump jewels, so it was a good guess that they were getting money. Joyce wanted to holla, but Alexis pulled her along so as not to seem too thirsty.

  The girls busied themselves trying on different boots and sneakers, while the guys looked on. One guy in particular seemed to take a liking to Trinity. He was tall, although not as tall as Rio. He had a handsome cinnamon-colored face, with a thin beard lining his jaw. His long dreads hung down his back and were held together by a white bandana. The tight shirt he wore showed off his lean but healthy frame. Trinity caught the Dread's stare but didn’t acknowledge him. The dude was fine as hell, but she was good with Rio.

  After a brief bit of debating, the guys decided to approach Trinity and her team. As soon as Trinity saw them walking over, she gathered her things and headed for the register. While his boys were trying to get their mack on, Dread continued to stare at Trinity from a distance. Trinity placed two pairs of boots on the counter and reached into her Gucci purse to pay for them. Before she could pull her money out, Dread stepped up.

  “Hold on, ma,” he said in a deep voice. “What you doing?”

  “Excuse me?” Trinity asked in a stink voice.

  “I asked what you’re doing?”

  “I’m bout to pay for my boots. Is there a problem?”

  “Actually, yes. Your money's no good here, ma,” he said, pulling out a large bank roll. “I got this.”

  “First of all,” Trinity said. “My name is not ma. Second of all, I got my own,” she said, pulling out her knot. “I’m good.”

  “Damn,” Dread said, putting his hands up submissively. “I ain’t mean no disrespect. I was just trying to be courteous.”

  “Well thanks, but no thanks.”

  “Hold up, ma… I mean miss. Maybe we started off on the wrong foot? My name is Baron. And you are?”

  “Her name's Trinity.” Joyce said, butting into yet another conversation.

  “Okay,” Baron said, licking his full lips. “Pleased to meet you, Trinity.”

  “I wouldn’t call Joyce telling you my name us meeting.”

  “Well, it's a start. Listen, I know I don’t know you and I really don’t be rolling up on strange females like this, but when I saw you, I couldn’t help myself. If it's okay with you, I’d like to maybe take you out to dinner and pick your brain a little?”

  “Well, Baron, I’m flattered by the offer, but I can’t.”

  “Word?” Baron asked surprised. “Damn, I just came from Crab Inn so I know my breath might be a little hot, but I didn’t mean to completely turn you off.”

  Trinity giggled a little. “No, Baron. Your breath is fine.”

  “So what's really good?”

  “I got a man, Baron.”

  “And?”

  “And that means I’m loyal to him.”

  “Check it out, Trinity. I hear where you’re coming from and I respect that. But I think you got it all wrong. I’m just trying to get to know you. I don’t wanna step on nobody's toes. All I’m asking is for dinner and a little conversation.”

  “Thank you, Baron, but no thanks.”

  “Well,” he said, pulling out a white business card. “If you change your mind, give me a ring.”

  “Baron, I told you I got a man.”

  “She’ll call,” Joyce said, snatching the card. “As a matter of fact, your peoples invited me and my girl Alex to that party y’all throwing. How bout if we bring Trinity along?”

  “Sounds like a plan,” Baron said, smiling at Trinity

  “Then it's settled.” Joyce said, grinning like she had just done a good thing.

  “A’ight,” Baron said. “So I
guess I’ll see you there?”

  Trinity mustered a phony smile at Baron as he left followed by his entourage. That bitch Joyce had really played herself this time. Not only had she put Trinity in a compromising position, but she made her team look wack. Baron and his peoples probably thought that they were a bunch of sack-chasers, the way Joyce was acting all thirsty.

  “Joyce,” Trinity said with attitude. “What was that shit all about?”

  “Girl,” Joyce began, “why don’t you just be easy? If anything, I did you a favor.”

  “How do you figure you did me a favor?”

  “Trinity, I know you don’t get out much, but do you mean to tell me that you don’t know who that was?”

  “Should I?”

  “Hell, yeah! That was Cedric Baron.”

  “And?”

  “And? Trinity, think about it. Cedric Baron aka Baron is holding.

  He getting it with them niggaz on 155th. Last time I was at the Rucker this nigga pulled up in a CLK.”

  “So?” Trinity said, shrugging. “And that means what to me? He ain’t the only nigga with a CLK.”

  “T, he hit the streets with one two whole years before it came out. That boy wipe his ass with big faces. I don’t think you know what you got on your hands. First Rio and now Baron. You winning right now, T.”

  “Joyce,” Trinity said, rolling her eyes. “You be killing me with that shit. Everything is about paper with you. Money doesn’t buy happiness.”

  “You’re right, Trinity,” Joyce smiled. “But it can buy a nice fit with the matching shoes. You better get up on it.”

  Rio hit the block feeling pretty good about himself. Since he had started fucking with Prince, the streets had been good to him. He was getting money and was making sure everyone else ate. Rio wasn’t the type of cat to want it all for himself. By making sure the niggaz that he was fucking with was eating, it kept them happy. Besides that, it took some of the light off him.

  Rio and Cutty were coming from the chicken store, talking shit, when School Boy came riding up on his mountain bike. As he got closer, Rio could see the grim look on his face. He knew that he was bringing bad news.