CHAPTER 20 #4
Marcus walked up the sidewalk with that same calm stride. Basketball under one arm.
Saiyd spotted him first.
“Yo!” he shouted, sprinting across the street. Marcus laughed and tossed him the ball.
“Let’s see if you got any better since last time.”
Saiyd grinned wide.
“I’m always betta.”
Sinceer sat the steps with a notepad, glasses slipping down his nose. He looked up briefly.
“Hi, Marcus.”
“Hey, man.” Marcus bumped fists with him.
Everything was normal. For about five minutes.
Halfway down the block, three men leaned against a parked Impala, talking low.
Another guy sat on the hood rolling dice with someone I didn’t recognize.
Money slapped the pavement with each throw.
The usual rhythm of street. The game always pulled a crowd. Marcus looked curious.
“What are they doing?” he asked.
“Shootin’ dice,” Saiyd answered.
Marcus tilted his head.
“For money?”
“Everythin’ is for money,” Saiyd said casually.
Marcus watched for a moment. The players leaned closer, tension rising with each roll. One guy slammed the pavement suddenly.
“Man fuck dat!”
“You lost,” the other man replied calmly.
“Roll ‘em again.”
That subtle moment when something playful turns serious. Marcus sensed it instantly. The man who lost stood up fast.
“Yo’ nigga you cheatin’.”
“Man shut tha fuck up,” the other guy said. “You rolled tha damn dice yoself.”
Then, a black Mercedes rolled onto the block slow.
And everybody noticed, even the kids. Nico’s car.
The engine purred as it pulled near the corner.
Nico stepped out wearing a black leather jacket and dark sunglasses even though the sun was already gone.
Gold chain resting heavy against his chest.
He looked like money. He also looked like danger.
Marcus noticed the shift in the atmosphere immediately.
“Who is that?”
I didn’t answer. I didn’t need to. The entire block already had. Nico walked toward the dice game, like he owned the pavement. In a way he did. One of the men from the fight stepped forward nervously.
“Nico, I got yo’ cut later—”
Nico didn’t hesistate. His fist cracked across the man’s face so hard the sound echoed off the rowhouses. Nobody spoke. The man stumbled backward, holding his jaw.
“You think I’m stupid?” Nico said quietly. His voice wasn’t loud, it just carried.
“I told you yestaday whatchu owed me. Right?”
“I was gonna—”
The second punch dropped him. Marcus stiffened beside me.
“That guy just—”
“Don’t,” I whispered.
Marcus stared.
“Aye, that’s not right.”
“Maybe so, but it ain’t yo’ business.” I told him.
“You’re telling me that’s normal?”
“Pretty much.”
Nico crouched beside the man now lying on the sidewalk, bloody.
“You got ‘til tomma’,” he said calmly.
He stood up and looked around. His eyes landed on me. Then Marcus. He smiled slightly, but there was no warmth in it.
“Summa.” He yelled as he was walking towards us.
“Whatchu want Nico.”
He glanced at Marcus.
“I see you bought ya lil’ frien’ again.”
Nico walked closer. Close enough that Marcus could smell the cologne and cigarette smoke.
“You treatin’ lil Summa right?”
Marcus nodded.
“Y… yeah.”
“Dat’s good. I hate ta see what happens if you hurt her. She basically my lil’ sista.”
“No. You are my sista’s handler. Dat’s it.” I said with major attitude.
Nico’s smile widened.
“You smoke? Do drugs?” he asked Marcus.
“N-No. Never.”
Nico sucked his teeth.
“Good. Stick to dat.” He tapped Marcus lightly on the chest.
“Cuz dis life here…” His eyes moved toward the corner.
“...ain’t fa people like you. Dude layin’ on da’ ground now cuz he was tryna live a life he wasn’t built fa.”
Marcus swallowed hard. I could feel the tension coming off of him.
“Don’t end up like him.” Nico threatened pointing is finger in Marcus’ chest.
He turned to me, handed me three hundred-dollar bills,
“Tell ya’ Mama Shay said hey.”
Like those measly dollars would cure a broken home.
He walked back to his car and the Mercedes rolled away. Marcus didn’t speak for a long time. Saiyd went back dribbling the basketball. Sinceer pretended to read. The block slowly returned to normal. Marcus kept staring at the corner.
“That guy could’ve killed him,” he finally said.
“Prolly.”
“And nobody stopped it.”
“Why would dey?”
Marcus looked at me like he didn’t understand the question.
“That’s insane.”
“No,” I said quietly.
“Dat’s tha rules.”
Marcus was clearly shaken by the night.
“I should go. It’s already late.”
“You okay?”
He nodded. But I could see something different in his eyes now. Not fear. Reality.
“Summer,” he said carefully, looking down the block once more. Then back at me.
“You’re stronger than most people I know.”
“Whatchu’ mean?”
“Because you’re still trying to get out.” He stepped closer. Lowered his voice.
“But the longer you stay here…” He glanced toward the corner again.
“The harder that’s going to be.”
After he left, I sat on the porch alone for a while. Thinking. Did Marcus see too much? Did Nico scare him off?
Once you see the block for what it is, you can never pretend it’s just a neighborhood again. The block ain’t just where you live. It’s a gravitational force. And gravity is hard to escape.