Jay [Part One]

Sometimes people got it so good, they don’t even know what they got. With their big screen TVs and their nice flashy cars…it makes me wonder if they know what the other side is like. Has their father ever been shot to death right in front of their face? Has their mother ever struggled with a coke addiction? Has their brother ever held up a gas station for a pack of cigarettes? No, most of them people have not ever experienced anything like this in their whole life. But I have experienced all of it. I am Jay, and this is my story.

*

Our family’s apartment is in an alleyway behind a gas station. It isn’t the roomiest space for a family of four, but it works. I come here directly from school; I don’t dare hang around like some do. But sometimes I go to the gas station to run an errand for momma. Anyways, I was coming out of the Phil's Gas Station (I had just bought some candy) and that’s when I saw it happen. That’s when I saw my daddy die.
He was filling up our 1990 Ford Truck, but not too much cuz the gas is so high lately. I was commin out of the store, licking a sucker when I saw three boys in black hoods, seemin’ to come outta no where, talking to my daddy. Just talking, no harm. So I thought.

It all happened so fast. The tallest one drew out a gun and aimed it at him. He mumbled something, but I couldn’t hear. I could hear my daddy’s voice though, strong and clear.

“Son,” he said. “You are not a killer. Put the gun away.”
“Watch me.” The boy said, his voice quivering a little. Then he gained more courage and shouted, "WATCH ME!" I couldn't see his face cuz of the ski mask. But I knew that someone like that must be an awful person filled with cold-blooded, evil, mindless hatred.

I had ducked behind a trash can, and I watched as my daddy boldly faced the cowardly boys. They were cowards, I knew. The gun made them feel strong. I watched as the boys hands shook, his finger putting a bit of pressure on the trigger. At first I thought, and I had prayed, that he wasn’t going to do it. He couldn’t do it to my dad. But then with a sudden bang, he went limp. His blood spewed out of his head onto the pavement. The shot had drowned out my screams.By the time the store manager came out, the gang was long gone. He saw me shivering by the trash can, and my daddy, now a bloody corpse, lying in the street. He phoned the police.

It was hell that night. Policemen never stopped asking me questions. “Did you see his face?” “What did he look like?” “Do you know who he was?” They questioned Joey too. He didn't speak. He was all shook up. Joey and Daddy were never really close...they fought often. Mostly 'cuz Joey wanted to leave the house and be on his own. Daddy thought Joey was not ready to leave us yet...he wasn't mature enough, and made irrational decisions.

Now we are a family of three, and my heart aches for my dad’s laughter. His unendin’ optimism, his kind brown eyes. And then I realize that he still lives inside my heart. And that’s the part of him that can never die.
*
After daddy’s death, things got worse and worse. I cook for myself now. Momma just stays in her room all day, with the door locked tight. My brother Joey, he goes out often. Mostly at night.

Today I’ve decided to follow him. I’ve given up trying to talk to mom, and the mysteries in my life just keep piling up. Joey now asserts himself as the man of the house, and he checks my room to make sure I’m asleep. He won't check on Momma. He knows that she wont do nothin about anything he does. Or me. I faced the wall, pretending to be asleep, but as soon as I heard the front door slam, I slipped on a sweatshirt and my runnin shoes.

He was walking down the alley, the streetlights illuminating him. He was smoking cigarette, which didn’t bother me that much. A lot of people here in Chicago smoke under age. Hell, I even tried it a couple times. As quietly as I could, I followed him down the street. Joey had his shoulders slumped over, like he was carrying the weight of the world.

He turned into an especially trash-filled area, and suddenly a memory came back to me that almost made me burst into tears. I know this place…I know it all too well.

It was two years ago, on a night like this, when I was 14 years old. It had been a long time since school let out for the day, and I had decided to take a different route. I got lost. Soon I was turning into alleyways that I didn’t recognize. Old bums peeked out at me from under their newspaper blankets. Rats skittered across my path, making me stumble.

I was naïve.

A man started to walk behind me, a hood over his eyes. I didn’t think much about it at the time. I was too concerned about finding my way home. My pace quickened.

“It’s too late for a girl like you to be wandering streets like this.” Hissed the man.

I turned to look behind me, and then I looked straight ahead. His walk hastened and came up to mine. I could smell alcohol. I could smell danger. He grabbed my arm.

“Need any help finding your way home?” He bent down to kiss me.

“No!” I screamed, tearing away from his grip.

He pushed me to a wall, and whispered something in my ear. I started scratching, kicking, anything to get him away. He struggled. Eventually I hit him where the sun don’t shine: In the groin. He doubled over in pain, and swore at me. But I didn’t care. I never went back. Until now. What was my brother doing in the alley?

“Heeeyy, Joey!” said a voice.

"Sup, Ben." Joey advanced towards the guy in the oversized coat. They grasped each others hands and leaned in towards eachother, then clapped each other on the back quick before pulling away. They both flashed a sign that I couldn't recognize. Gang signs...I just knew it. I inched closer to the scene. Thank God for the dumpster that hid me from view.

"Let's go."

The two boys turned a corner, and I couldn't see them anymore. I followed and peeked around, hoping they wouldn't notice. And they didn't. Joey and Ben just kept walkin forward till they got to an old door with its dark paint chippin off. Ben fumbled around in his pocket and then revealed a key. He was slow with gettin the door open, but who wouldn't? It looked a thousand years old.

Ben pushed it open and it slammed against the wall. They ducked inside. The door was slow to shut, and me, bein stupid, decided to run in and follow them. It slammed behind me and I tried to keep track of the two dark figures in front of me. And finally, they came to a brightly lit room where many many other guys were waiting. I stayed outside the door, listening.

"Joey," said Ben, who I'm guessin is the leader of them all. "We've all contributed to the Rippers a lot and we've got our scars to prove it...but ever since your incident you been doin' almost nothin."

The gang...the Rippers...all murmered in agreement.

"We think that you're gettin too comfortable round here." Ben said slyly.

"Hey guys," Joey said defensively. "You know I've been messed up. Just gimme another chance...please."

"We'll talk." Ben turned to the rest of the members, and they all stood up. Alarm bells went off in my head. He walked to them and they got all in a group and started whispering. I couldn't see what Joey was doin, but if I could I'd bet 10 bucks that he's drummin his fingers against his thighs. That's what he does when he's nervous.

It was a couple minutes before Ben faced Joey again, and the Rippers had their arms crossed over their chests. Ben was smiling. "We all think..." he paused, "You gotta prove to us that you still got what it takes to be a Ripper."

"Don't do it Joey." I thought. "Please don't do what he says."

"Go down to Phil's Gas Station. Get us each a pack of cigarettes. You can't pay for them neither."

My mouth went dry. It was the same place Daddy got killed. Ben stared at Joey, seeing if he would take the challenge.

"But-" stuttered Joey. "That ain't cool! You guys know that's the place where-"

"We know it!" snapped Ben. "This is the ultimate test to prove your hardcore. You ain't got the guts, you ain't in the Rippers no more."

Silence. Then Joey said faintly. "I'll do it."

"I knew I could count on you, brotha." said the over-enthusiastic Ben. He turned to his members. "Meeting over."

I panicked. They would be commin my way soon! I have to get back to the apartment before Joey finds out I was followin him! I ran away as quietly as I could. And finally, I found the old door. Not thinkin, I let it slam shut behind me. I could hear shouts commin from behind. I gotta hide, and quick! I climbed over some boxes filled with rotting newspapers into a dumpster. It smelled somethin fierce, but thank goodness that it was empty. I shivered as the Rippers went snooping round the alley. I closed my eyes and shivered. Please don't let them find me. That's all I ask.

Footsteps. Comming closer. I could hear the shoes scrunching over broken shards of glass. Maybe a beer bottle. But that didn't matter. What mattered was that a face was starin right down at me.

It was Joey.

"Jay?" he whispered fiercely, his face lookin confused. "What the hell do you think you're doin? Don't make a sound!"

The search for me continued. Finally Ben gave up. "Whoever was here before is long gone now. He better make sure he don't come back!"

The Rippers laughed nervously. I know I'm dumb, but out of sheer curiosity I stuck my head out just a little bit to see what they were doin. They had all gathered in a circle now, Joey kept glancin up at me nervously. Ben recited a couple words, and together the Rippers made their symbol. Then they broke off and went their separate ways. I ducked.

However, Joey went and sat on a box that was by my dumpster. I knew he was smokin then, cuz I heard the flick of a lighter and smoke started to cloud around me. It burned my lungs. Some Rippers were still hangin around. "Don't cough." I thought. "Don't cough. Don't cough." After awhile, Joey spoke.

"You can come out now."

Sweet relief! I had a huge coughing fit. "Dammit Joey!" I scolded when I was done. "You almost made me give myself away!"

"Well it's not my fault you was bein stupid an followed me here! This place is dangerous, Jay!" He smashed his half-burned cigarette against the wall to put it out and let it drop.

"Then WHY are you here? Is it really worth it to be a part of the Rippers? Are you really gonna go back to Phil's and steal? Are you? ARE YOU?" I could feel my throat risin up like the first time I saw that bag of white powder stuffed under Momma's mattress. My eyes started to sting. I can't cry, not now.

He got quiet. "You wouldn't understand. You ain't nothin but a kid."

"Joey, I ain't a kid. I haven't been one since Daddy was killed."

At this, Joey got uncomfortable. He never really liked to talk about that day. In fact, he didn't say one word for a whole week after it had happened. That time was bad for me too. It was hardest on Momma. I remember when she used to cook the best roast beef in the world. It was so tender it would fall apart in your mouth before you gotta chance to chew it. Mmm...those were great days.

"We better head back." muttered Joey, and he got off the box and groaned. "Man, I'm tired."

I didn't ask again about him goin to Phil's. I don't know what's goin on in his head. But I know that no matter how much I beg and cry, it wont work on him. His minds always made up, like Momma's was.

We walked down the sidewalk. It must have been close to 1 AM, but I was alert. These were one of the most dangerous streets in all of Downtown Chicago. In the distance, I could hear the sound of a window being smashed, and a car's alarm goin off. Me and Joey walked faster. He fumbled around in his pocket for another cigarette. The lighter slipped from his fingers. He swore and leaned over and tried to grab it, but it kept slippin away from him.

"Hurry up, hurry up!" I stressed. The way the lamposts cast shadows on the street looked wrong. Everything seemed out of place. Something wasn't right.

"Oh screw it!" he hissed, and he left the lighter behind.

We were runnin now, not caring how loud our sneakers were on the pavement. We didn't know why, but we had to get home. And fast. Finally, our alley came into view. We turned and climbed up the metal stairs to our door. We burst through.

Everything was just how it was when we left. Except all the lights were on. And Momma was lying on the floor. There was a needle sticking out of her left arm. My world is spinning. My stomach is boiling. Oh God, am I going to throw up? I can't breathe. Joey ran over to her and put two fingers on her throat to check her pulse.

"She's-"

I couldn't hear the rest of what Joey said, because my world was turnin black and I hit the floor.

*

On most days I like to wake up in my nice, warm bed to the smell of Momma or Joey brewin coffee. Today was different. I was in a chair, with Joey dozing next to me. And there was that smell that hospitals always seem to have. The nurse walked in, and looked suprised.

"Oh! You're awake!"

"Yea." I yawned and stretched my aching back. I had such a headache too. Then I looked at Momma, and frantically looked back at the nurse. "Is my momma gonna be okay?"

The nurse smiled. "She's going to be just fine. It's a good thing you found her when you did though, otherwise she might not have been so lucky."

Waves of relief washed over me. Momma was gonna be alright. We were gonna be alright. I nudged Joey hard in the ribs. He jolted awake.

"Jeez Jay!" he groaned. "What time is it?"

"It doesn't matter! Momma's gonna pull through!" I bubbled happily.

He blinked. Then he laughed and hugged me. A few of his tears splashed on my hair, and I realized that I was cryin too. But they were happy tears, for once. That silly nurse was smiling the most cheesy smile I had ever seen. But I didn't care. I could hug her too. I could wrap my arms around the whole world and give it a squeeze. I laughed and laughed and laughed.

And then things quieted down. The nurse had left to get the doctor. Momma was starting to stir...color was returnin to her cheeks. Then her eyes popped open. She looked around the room, then her eyes fell on us. Her eyes closed, and her body started to heave. She was crying...silently.

"Momma." I said. I used the bed sheet to wipe her tear drops. "Momma it's okay. You're alright."

She was silent. But then I heard her voice for the first time in two months.
"I'm not alright. I'm so ashamed."

"No...its okay." comforted Joey, standing on his knees next to her bed.

Her tears were slipping faster than I could dry them. I stopped. She started shaking her head back and forth. "No no no no no! I left you kids and went to my own little world. I got into some drugs...I'm really messed up, babies. I'm a mess."

My throat was swellin up again. But I need to hear this. This is important.

"Last night, when you were...where ever you were, I-"

"Actually Mom," I said, inturrupting, "You've been here for three days."

"Shh! Momma's talkin!" said Joey.

"Three days." Momma was bewildered. "Wow. Well...three days ago...I was feeling depressed. More depressed than I had ever felt before. The drugs make it fade ya know...just for a little while. And I thought, that maybe...just a little more than last time would take a little more hurt away. But it was different. It was more powerful. I tried to get up and get a phone. I remember thinking about my babies before I passed out in the living room."

We didn't say much after that. We were just together, and that was enough. Our Momma was back...for now. A doctor dressed in all-white walked into the room. His black hair was slicked back and he had rimless eyeglasses. He was handsome...kinda reminded me of a character from those over-dramatic doctor movies. I can picture a beautiful blonde nurse hovering over the pitiful patient. "What's the diagnosis, Doctor?"

"Hello, my name is Dr. Laruga. Your mother will have to be in the hospital for a couple more days for tests...just to make sure she's completely alright."

I smiled, but it dropped when a police officer stepped into the room. I completely forgot. They caught her with drugs. She's gotta pay. I could tell this officer had no sympathy for druggies. The way he peered at her...it sent shivers down my spine. Joey shifted on his feet and looked away. He was always uncomfortable round the cops.

Dr. Diagnosis Laruga continued. "This is Officer Shmuk. He-"

Joey snorted and started to laugh. I couldn't help it neither. After all, Shmuk was the funniest last name I've ever heard. He glared at us with his squinty blue eyes and we stopped. Joey cleared his throat and looked down.

"Your mother is in serious trouble." Shmuk stated. Momma listened closely. "Once she is released from the hospital, she will have to go to a rehabilitation clinic. And if she refuses, then she goes to prison. It's her choice."

Momma ran her tongue over her dry lips and seemed to be starin off into space. "I'll take rehab." she croaked.

"Good." said Shmuk, looking pleased with himself. "Now...about the custody of your children-"

"Oh, I ain't no child!" Joey interupted. "I'm 19 years old, ain't that old enough to be a guardian? I can take care of Baby Jay." he looked at me and rumpled my hair.

I always thought of Momma or Daddy lookin after me. Not Joey. Joey can't take care of himself...much less the apartment and me. It would be better to try though. I'd hate to go to a foster home until Momma got better, which could be awhile. I looked at Joey. Joey looked at me. I knew we were both wonderin how we were goin to get through this.

*

A week has gone by, and Joey was becomin more and more bothered. I had a pretty good idea what it was, too. He wanted to go and get the cigarettes for the Rippers. He kept starin off into space and drummed his fingers against his thighs. It went on like this for another week.

Finally he said, "I'm leaving but I'll be back by dinner. Why don't you make some mac n' cheese, okay?"

I swallowed hard and nodded. He stared at me for a moment, like he was tryin to catch me in a lie. I stared straight back. "Okay..." he said as if his mind was in another place. "Okay..."

The door slammed shut. I slipped on my sneakers. Lookin out the window, I saw that Joey had turned in the direction towards Phil's Gas Station. I carefully went down the metal steps. Now, I've already told you that I'm not the smartest girl in the world, so I decided to follow him.

[End of Jay, Part One. If you like please read Joey, Part Two]