Hard White. Shannon Holmes

a damn thing, Unk. What’s really good wit you?” Melquan greeted, shaking Charlie Rock’s manicured hand.

      He bent over and warmly embraced the man in the customized wheelchair, a sign of respect.

      “Nada, but what’s up with all that shooting I heard when I was up on the Ave, nephew? These niggas wilding out again?”

      “Nah Unk, that was me… These lil’ niggas out here were about to beat a crack-head to death over nothing. Wilding out, you know how they do? I tried to tell them niggas to stop. But they wouldn’t listen. So I had to pull out the hammer just to get their attention.”

      “Man didn’t I teach you better than that. We only pull out guns for a reason, not for the season. A true hustla only uses gunplay as a last resort. Life or death…”

      “Yeah, I know that, Unk. I was kinda wrong there. But—”

      “But, but nothing. There are no excuses, nephew. You keep that shit up and you’ll be the hottest thing around here. Much too much snitches around for all that. These lil’ niggas ain’t worth the shells you spent to break that shit up. Next time fuck ’em! Most of ’em don’t belong out here anyway. They ain’t doin’ nothin’ ‘cept gettin’ in a true playa’s way.”

      “Unk, you right,” Melquan conceded, taking a deep breathe. “Lately, I’ve been thinking about locking this whole thing down. It’s like every man for himself right now. And that ain’t gettin’ us nowhere. If everybody come together we could get some real money out here. We can bring the flow back instead of letting fiends go to White Plains or Boston road. We can bring it back to where it used to be.”

      “That sounds all good. But nephew, you know these niggas. They love disorganized crime. Niggas wouldn’t come together to save their own damn lives. Let alone to get some damn money…”

      “You ain’t neva lied. But I still think it’s worth a shot, though. There’s too much money out here not to try.”

      “If you believe that in your heart then you should go for it by all means. Don’t let anyone stop you from reaching for the stars. Never let it be said that your ol’ Unk is a hater. Nephew, nothin’ beats a failure, ‘cept a try.”

      The loud ring tone from a cellphone interrupted the conversation. Melquan checked the caller ID before speaking.

      “What’s up, Mike…? You back? A’ight, I’m on my way up there right now. You need anything? Razors, sumthin to eat, drink? What? You good…? I’ll be right there.”

      “Where you headed, nephew?”

      “I gotta go see my man, Mike Copeland. He waitin’ at the spot for me. We gotta handle some BI real quick.”

      “That’s what I like about you Mel, you about your business. You like that shit Tupac use to shout, M-O-P, Money Over Pussy. Lemme tell you sumthin, pussy is like snow, it’s fun to play in, you never know when it’s gonna cum and only some of it is clean enough to eat. Feel me?”

      Melquan let out a hardy laugh. It was vintage Charlie Rock, he was good for that old school advices.

      “That’s a good one, Unk. I’ll remember that. That’s all good, but lemme let you in on a lil’ secret, Tupac used to say M-O-B… Money ova Bitches… That’s just for the record. Now look, Unk, I gotta go.”

      “Don’t lemme hold you up, nephew,” Charlie Rock laughed. He moved closer to Melquan. “Listen, before you go, let a nigga hold a couple dollars.”

      “How much you need? Twenty… Fitty… A hundred dollars…?”

      “Twenty dollars is good, nephew. That’s all I need.”

      Melquan reached into his pocket and pulled out a knot. He peeled off a crispy twenty dollar bill and handed it to Charlie Rock.

      “And nephew, please do me a favor and go put that money away. The police would love to run up on you and find all that cash. That money would keep ’em supplied with a lifetime of coffee and donuts.”

      “I feel you. I’m about to bounce up right now.”

      “A’ight nephew, watch yourself. Be careful coming in and out of these buildings. Ask me, I know that shit.”

      “No question. Good looking out, Unk.”

      Charlie Rock gave Melquan dap and watched him walking away. He waited until Melquan was out of sight. Then he signaled a dealer.

      “Hurry, lemme get four nickels. And keep it on the DL,” Charlie Rock said.

      Chapter Three

       No Place Like Home

      The Torres family lived in building 1159 East 229^th St Drive, on the Southside. The brown buicks was nothing special, it was an exact replica of the rest of the other buildings in the projects. Marie and Jose had a hardworking father, Jose Torres Sr. to thank for their modest apartment and any luxuries provided. The furniture was adequate but not extravagant. Most importantly the three bedroom apartment was always clean. Jose Torres Sr. may have been raising his kids in the projects by himself. Mr. Torres did his best to keep the projects, and all the foul mannerisms associated with it, outside his door.

      Maria sat on the sofa in the living room. She was quietly doing her homework in front of the television. Down the hall, Jose sat on his single bed. His laptop computer on the Internet, he was multi-tasking, watching music videos on BET’s 106 & Park and texting a girl on his Sidekick cellular phone.

      The loud jingling of keys and the sound of the lock’s cylinder turning caught Maria’s attention. She greeted her exhausted dad, Jose Sr. as soon as he entered the apartment. The fortyish, single father smiled when his daughter raced down the narrow hallway and leapt into his arms. Maria kissed him on his cheek as her father beamed.

      “Papi, papi, you’re home,” Maria said, hugging him tightly.

      “Hey my princess, you make me feel so good after a hard day at the job. You make me wanna walk through that door again and again. How was your day? Huh?”

      Jose Torres Sr. was strikingly handsome with dark piercing eyes. His black curly hair showed a few strands of grey. The bags under his eyes and calloused hands betrayed his otherwise youthful appearance. Jose was a father and a hardworking man in every sense of the word. There was nothing average about him.

      “Okay Papi. That’s so sweet. You made my day. How was your day, huh?”

      “Oh, you know the usual. I gotta do this and fix that. Ah I don’t complain, work will always be work. It always leaves you tired. Anyway, sweetheart how was school? You learn anything new today?”

      “Of course, I did. We learned how to solve new algebra problems in math class today. I like math. Miss Henderson makes math fun.”

      “That’s good to hear. I pay good money so you and your brother can go to Catholic school. I want the best for the both of yous’ future. I don’t want you’s to turn out to be working at manual labor like myself. I would rather you work for yourself versus working for someone else. I really want you’s to go college and become lawyers or doctors. Whatever your hearts desires… I want you’s to have a career, not a job. Anytime the city is in a finical pinch, they always talk about cutting jobs. I’m always worrying about being laid-off.”

      Maria hugged her father and they walked back into the living room. Jose Sr. instantly became aware of his son’s absence. This raised some concerns. He paused and glanced around the well-kept place. His home was a source of pride and the things he provided for his children made Jose Sr. feel proud. After a bad start he made a decent man of himself by making a honest living.

      “Where’s your brother?” he asked after a beat.

      “Jose,