The Streets Keep Calling by Chunichi Page A

time. Lucky for us we finished right on time, because minutes after we finished, her son came running through the front door.
    â€œHey, Ma. Hey, Breeze,” Junior said while running straight toward the refrigerator.
    â€œWhat you need out of here?” I playfully jumped in front of the fridge.
    â€œI want some Kool-Aid!” he shouted.
    â€œFirst tell me something you learned in school today,” I demanded.
    â€œMan,” he whined. I didn’t know what the problem was, but for some reason this little nigga hated school.
    â€œNo Kool-Aid until you tell me.”
    â€œMommy?” he begged Trixy for help.
    â€œWhat did you learn, Junior?” she asked.
    â€œI can’t remember.”
    â€œOh, well, too bad. No Kool-Aid for you.” I treated Junior like he was my own son.
    â€œOkay, okay. I wrote numbers today.”
    â€œAll right.” I walked over to Trixy’s desk and grabbed a piece of paper and a pencil. “Write your numbers, and when you’re done your mom will give you some Kool-Aid.” I placed the paper and pencil on the kitchen table. Junior sat down and went straight to work. From the corner of my eye I caught a glimpse of Trixy smiling.
    Now that I had released a little pent-up frustration and dealt with Junior, it was time to go take care of business. I called up Borne and headed out to go check on him. Instead of meeting him at our usual spot, I met him on the block. It was the first of the month and shit was really rolling, so he wasn’t trying to leave and miss out on all that money. I pulled up to the corner store where Borne was standing, and got out of the car. The block was busy as hell. As soon as I saw it, I understood why that nigga ain’t wanna leave.
    â€œWhat up, Borne?” I dapped him up. “I see it’s busy as a motherfucker out here.”
    â€œIt’s a’ight,” Borne said, downplaying the whole scene.
    â€œA’ight? Niggas lined up like you giving out free government cheese,” I said observing what was really going on.
    â€œYeah, it’s popping, but it’s hot as a motherfucker out here. Cops been circling every hour. And we got beef with niggas trying to move in on our territory. But fuck all that. Let me get you your paper so you can be on your way,” Borne said before pulling out his cell phone and calling his girl up to bring him the money.
    I hadn’t been waiting two whole minutes before I was on the ground with my goddamn face in the dirt. One minute, I was leaning against the wall, had just popped open a cold Heineken, and was about to take a sip. Next thing I knew, I heard a car screeching and people start screaming. Before I could throw myself to the floor, I heard two shots, then bullets ricochet off the wall right next to me.
    What the fuck! was all that ran through my mind. Shit was happening so fast. I was pissed that I ain’t have shit on me, so I couldn’t do shit but lie down until it was over. From my angle, I saw Borne pull out a .45 Desert Eagle and start shooting back in the opposite direction. That’s when shit really got crazy. Bullets started coming from everywhere. Although it only lasted about two minutes, that shit seemed like an hour. That shit had me feeling like I was in Desert Storm.
    â€œFuck, they got little homie,” I heard a dude yell once the firing stopped. His statement was followed by a woman’s cry, a girl’s frantic scream, and niggas’ shouts of retaliation. When I got a little closer, I could see dude had caught one in the neck and was bleeding uncontrollably. Needless to say, that nigga died before the ambulance arrived.
    Damn, this is crazy. I gotta get the fuck outta here, I thought as I watched and took in all that was going on around me.
    â€œYo, let’s blow this joint,” Borne said. It was exactly what I wanted to hear. We hopped in my car and went to his girl’s crib. I grabbed my loot and