My eyes snapped open and I sat up in my chair, in my lap my right hand curled tight around the cold black pistol that rested their. Ignoring the stinging rays of sunlight cascading through the kitchen window and over the dining room table at which he sat, he focused, unblinking, at the unpainted front door. The plain brass handle was not turning and by the light that filtered in from the hallway I could be sure that no one was out there to turn it. My eyes darted away from the front door and back into the apartment to see Kara, my little angel, shuffle out of her room towards the bathroom still squinting and blinded by sleep. She looked so small and perfect, just as her mother had, but her features were all her own. The jet black of her hair matched her eyes perfectly and her tiny button nose was a remnant of a genetic strain that was not present in either of her parents.
She always managed to wake up on her own these days, I thought with a touch of sadness, soon she would be old enough to walk out to the bus stop on her own and would be gone by the time he came too.
Hastily he ran his hands over his face, rubbing away the shroud of sleep. Kara hated to see him when he didn't sleep in bed. She was old enough to worry now, old enough to begin to wonder why all those twitching addicts were always shaking hands with me, old enough to begin to put the pieces together.
I heard the toilet flush through the paper thin walls of second floor apartment and shook myself back to reality. I pushed my chair back, zipped the gray Adidas track suit up that I had fallen asleep in and shoved my small 9mm into my waistband. I handled the weapon so easily now. I silently moved about the kitchen doing the things normal parents do, pulling the box of Pops from the yellowing cupboard and placing a bowl and a carton of milk out for the little one in my life before starting on my own meal of fruit and frozen waffles. Not Eggo waffles, you couldn't find those at the Foodmart down the street. These were simply "Wacky Waffles", tasteless and freezerburned.
I didn't really consider these routine motions, dwelling instead on the firm metal feel of my pistol against the curve of my lower back. Carrying that gun had been the start of a whole new episode of my unguided life.Tyrone had said it was only for show. I could practically see him in front of me, pushing the cocaine into one hand and the 9 mm into the other as Kara played on the swings behind me.
"You take the coke an' you gonna need the gun, becha ass you will." He frowned, the most serious I had ever seen the normally jovial rotund man.
"Not for killin, I hope'" he said, his eyes flashed behind me to see that Kara was still preoccupied, "Probably not even for shootin', but folks will give you shit and when they do you gonna need ta flash dis. Just let 'em know you have it."
I had denied, I'd been selling powder for Tyrone since high school and I had never carried a gun before, hell I'd never held a gun before.
"This ain't high school and these folks you gonna be sellin' to ain't gonna be no cracked out high schoolers. This is the big leagues. We're talkin' kilos now and don't give me that shit, you need the money, Kara's private school doesn't pay for itself."
"You take the coke an' you gonna need the gun, becha ass you will." He frowned, the most serious I had ever seen the normally jovial rotund man.
"Not for killin, I hope'" he said, his eyes flashed behind me to see that Kara was still preoccupied, "Probably not even for shootin', but folks will give you shit and when they do you gonna need ta flash dis. Just let 'em know you have it."
I had denied, I'd been selling powder for Tyrone since high school and I had never carried a gun before, hell I'd never held a gun before.
"This ain't high school and these folks you gonna be sellin' to ain't gonna be no cracked out high schoolers. This is the big leagues. We're talkin' kilos now and don't give me that shit, you need the money, Kara's private school doesn't pay for itself."
I had taken the gun and Tyrone had taken a plane to some godforsaken airstrip in the jungle of Bolivia with thirty-three thousand dollars.
Thirty-three thousand of my dollars.
I had trusted him with a years worth of construction wages, a year and a half's worth of rent, two semesters of Guiding Light, Christian School for Girls where my darling Kara went, where I sent her so that she could get away from here, from Jupiter Apartments for at least eight hours a day.
Thirty-three thousand of my dollars.
I had trusted him with a years worth of construction wages, a year and a half's worth of rent, two semesters of Guiding Light, Christian School for Girls where my darling Kara went, where I sent her so that she could get away from here, from Jupiter Apartments for at least eight hours a day.
Shaking myself out of deep thought I glanced at the door again. That was exactly one week ago.
One week.
I hadn't been able to leave the gun at home, for some reason I carried it with me everywhere. I walked with it solidly shoved into the front, then the back of my pants. One especially cold day I had walked about selling the soft white powder of my trade with the metal hand cannon nestled in the large front pocket of my gray sports hoodie. I loved and hated the way whenever I reached into the pocket I felt both the soft plastic bags as well as the unyielding metal of the steel beretta.
"Is someone out there?"
I jumped a little and the apple I had been washing repeatedly in the basin sink slipped out of my hands a bounced around the dull metal clanging with the sound of a hammer wrapped in a towel. I grimaced at the thought of the multiple bruises I had just inadvertently inflicted on my breakfast.
"What'd you say, Babe?" I picking up the apple and pulling the cooling Wacky Waffles out of the toaster.
"The door," Kara replied feigning an uncaring attitude towards the question as she sat down and poured cereal into her bowl. "You were staring at it, is somebody out there?"
"No, no ones out there," I sighed, "I was kind of expecting Uncle Tyrone to come see me last night after you went to bed."
"To bring you more of that stuff?" Kara asked, casual as can be. She was growing up, she was starting to look and more importantly she was starting to see all that was going on between the hands over her head. I couldn't help but pause, choking on words and thoughts but as her eyes leveled with mine I could tell she didn't really know what was going on, not yet. She was clever enough to know how to find out though and by my momentary pause she had probably learned more than she could have hoped from her clever little probe.
"No, just to visit. He's been out of town and I was hoping he would stop by after he got back." What do you know about 'that stuff?' I wanted to ask, Who told you about 'that stuff?' but instead I said simply, "Its no big deal, I'll probably see him while your at school today."
"Are you gonna get a new job soon?" She asked, truly innocent this time, "or you going to just sit around here and watch t.v. all day."
I smiled, and though she hid hers by tipping he cereal bowl upwards and drinking the last of her milk I could tell she was smiling too. Clever, smart and, though she hadn't quite grown into it yet, I could tell that she would eventually have my own dry wit. Delivering Cunning remarks that would leave their targets smiling and her brown eyes twinkling.
"Oh really?" I said, "Is that what I do all day?"
"Well, not all day," She shot back, turning up her nose, "You probably go out to eat somewhere for lunch."
"Hey, I got a question for you," I said pushing my chair back and smiling mischievously over the table. "Are you going to get in the shower and go to school like a good little girl or am I going to have to take you outside and rinse you off with the hose."
"I don't need a shower!" She shouted back at me, "Your the one that smells like a stinky pig!"
I chased her around the apartment laughing. She was growing up but thank god she wasn't grown. Not today at least.
The air in the second floor hallway was freezing as it always was, I looked forlornly at the black trash bag that covered the window at the end of the hall as it buffeted in the wind. Some young romeo had broken it last summer to go harass an ex-girlfriend, he'd been tenacious, I'd give him that. The barred first floor windows were usually enough to dissuade burglars but he had just climbed the fire escape.
Ah, young love.
"Is someone out there?"
I jumped a little and the apple I had been washing repeatedly in the basin sink slipped out of my hands a bounced around the dull metal clanging with the sound of a hammer wrapped in a towel. I grimaced at the thought of the multiple bruises I had just inadvertently inflicted on my breakfast.
"What'd you say, Babe?" I picking up the apple and pulling the cooling Wacky Waffles out of the toaster.
"The door," Kara replied feigning an uncaring attitude towards the question as she sat down and poured cereal into her bowl. "You were staring at it, is somebody out there?"
"No, no ones out there," I sighed, "I was kind of expecting Uncle Tyrone to come see me last night after you went to bed."
"To bring you more of that stuff?" Kara asked, casual as can be. She was growing up, she was starting to look and more importantly she was starting to see all that was going on between the hands over her head. I couldn't help but pause, choking on words and thoughts but as her eyes leveled with mine I could tell she didn't really know what was going on, not yet. She was clever enough to know how to find out though and by my momentary pause she had probably learned more than she could have hoped from her clever little probe.
"No, just to visit. He's been out of town and I was hoping he would stop by after he got back." What do you know about 'that stuff?' I wanted to ask, Who told you about 'that stuff?' but instead I said simply, "Its no big deal, I'll probably see him while your at school today."
"Are you gonna get a new job soon?" She asked, truly innocent this time, "or you going to just sit around here and watch t.v. all day."
I smiled, and though she hid hers by tipping he cereal bowl upwards and drinking the last of her milk I could tell she was smiling too. Clever, smart and, though she hadn't quite grown into it yet, I could tell that she would eventually have my own dry wit. Delivering Cunning remarks that would leave their targets smiling and her brown eyes twinkling.
"Oh really?" I said, "Is that what I do all day?"
"Well, not all day," She shot back, turning up her nose, "You probably go out to eat somewhere for lunch."
"Hey, I got a question for you," I said pushing my chair back and smiling mischievously over the table. "Are you going to get in the shower and go to school like a good little girl or am I going to have to take you outside and rinse you off with the hose."
"I don't need a shower!" She shouted back at me, "Your the one that smells like a stinky pig!"
I chased her around the apartment laughing. She was growing up but thank god she wasn't grown. Not today at least.
The air in the second floor hallway was freezing as it always was, I looked forlornly at the black trash bag that covered the window at the end of the hall as it buffeted in the wind. Some young romeo had broken it last summer to go harass an ex-girlfriend, he'd been tenacious, I'd give him that. The barred first floor windows were usually enough to dissuade burglars but he had just climbed the fire escape.
Ah, young love.
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