Lights Out (25 page)

So Saiquan let go of the tube and said, ‘Naw, I’ll let yo’ sorry ass live. But I’m tellin’ you right now - you better hope they don’t teach you how to walk, ‘cause if they do I’m paralyzin’ yo’ ass all over again.’

On his way out, Saiquan reached up and turned off the TV. Bitch didn’t deserve no entertainment.

Heading toward the Breukelen Houses along One Hundred Fifth Street, Saiquan walked right by another cop car. The car was at a red light with two cops in it - a black man driving and a Latina sitting shotgun. The Latina looked right over at Saiquan, staring at him for a couple of seconds, then looking away. Then the light changed and the car drove on.

In Saiquan’s building the elevator was still broken, so he had to take the stairs. Before he opened the door to his apartment, he took a couple of deep breaths. Whenever he took too long getting milk or toilet paper from the bodega, Desiree gave him all kinds of shit. For going out last night and not coming home Saiquan was ready for all hell to break loose.

But when he opened the door, Desiree wasn’t there. Only Trey and Felicia were in the living room - sitting on the bottom of their bunk bed, watching cartoons on TV.

‘Hey,’ Saiquan said, excited to see his kids. ‘What up?’

Trey and Felicia, looking at the TV, didn’t seem to notice that Saiquan had just come home.

‘I’m talkin’ to y’all,’ Saiquan said, louder.

Still, the kids didn’t look at him.

Saiquan tossed his jacket onto a chair and went over to the bunk and sat down, squeezing between his boy and girl. They moved out of the way to give him room, but didn’t stop watching TV.

Saiquan put his arms around their shoulders. Now the kids looked at him for a second, realizing their father was acting funny.

‘It’s so good to see both y’all,’ Saiquan said. ‘What y’all watching?’

‘Why you wanna know?’ Trey asked. ‘

‘Cause I’m yo’ father, that’s why,’ Saiquan said. ‘I wanna know what my kids be doin’ all day. I wanna be involved, know what I’m sayin’?’

‘Pokemon,’
Trey said.

‘Cool,’ Saiquan said. He squeezed his kids into him. ‘Yo, how ‘bout we get some pizza or somethin’?’

‘You smell,’ Felicia said.

‘Yo, sorry ‘bout that,’ Saiquan said. ‘Guess I do need a shower, huh? That’s ‘cause I was out late last night, lookin’ for a job. I was checkin’ out the clubs, seein’ if I could find somethin’ there, and I think I did get somethin’ lined up. So I’m gonna be workin’ soon, bringin’ home some money to support y’all.’

The kids were staring at the TV, probably not even listening to him.

‘Hey, I got an idea,’ Saiquan said. ‘How ‘bout after we get some lunch we all go to Coney Island?’

‘We can’t afford no Coney Island,’ Trey said.

Saiquan knew this was true. It cost, like, two dollars a ride, and he didn’t even have enough to pay for the damn subway.

‘Whatever,’ Saiquan said. ‘We could just walk around - go to the beach or something.’

‘It’s too cold for the beach,’ Felicia said. ‘We don’t gotta go swimming,’ Saiquan said. ‘We can just walk around, build sand castles. Remember when we used to do that down Jones Beach? We’d go there and build them big-ass castles with moats and shit and the water goin’ underneath.’

‘No,’ Trey said.

Saiquan realized Trey was only two or three then and probably couldn’t remember.

‘Oh,’ Saiquan said. ‘Well, you had a good time runnin’ around, gettin’ wet and shit. I wanna take y’all more places - as a family, know what I’m sayin’? We be doin’ too much stayin’ at home all the time, doin’ nothin’. I wanna get out there more, take y’all fun places. Maybe we’ll go to a Knicks game this year. When my money comes in from workin’ I’ll get us some tickets. We’ll go to the circus too - movies, all that.’ Saiquan kissed Trey on top of his head, then kissed Felicia on top of hers. ‘Where yo’ mama at?’

Trey pointed toward the bedroom. Saiquan went down the short hallway and tried to open the door, but it was locked.

‘Yo, baby,’ he said. ‘C’mon, open up.’

He knocked a few times, then banged harder with his fist, but Desiree wouldn’t answer. He heard the baby inside, goo-goo, gaga’ing, so he knew Desiree was awake; she just wouldn’t open up.

‘Come on, don’t be like that,’ he said. ‘Sorry I didn’t call last night, but I was out with . . .’ He almost said
Marcus,
but stopped himself just in time. It would’ve been stupid to tell Desiree he was with Marcus if she found out that Marcus got shot last night. ‘I wasn’t out with nobody - I was just out job huntin’ at clubs. I think I got a couple things lined up - might be a bouncer or security guard or some shit. C’mon, lemme in.’

He banged on the door a few more times, then heard the baby starting to cry.

‘Fine,’ he said. ‘Don’t wanna open up, don’t open up. Be like that.’

He was about to walk away when the door opened. Desiree, holding the screaming baby, said, ‘Pack up - you movin’ out.’

‘C’mon,’ Saiquan said. ‘I—’

‘I don’t wanna hear no more bullshit,’ Desiree said. ‘I want you outta here. Go on the street - sleep on the subway. I don’t care what you do.’

She carried the baby to the kitchen. The baby’s screaming was getting even louder.

Saiquan followed them, said, ‘C’mon, don’t be like this, baby. I know you mad, but you wrong.’

‘Damn right, I was wrong,’ Desiree said. ‘I was wrong to move in with you; I was wrong to have yo’ damn babies. I shoulda just forgot about you when you was away. Everybody was sayin’ how stupid I was to stay with you, I should find some other man, some
real
man, and I guess they was right.’

Desiree took a bottle out of the fridge and stuck the nipple in the baby’s mouth.

‘You got it all wrong, I’m tellin’ you, baby,’ Saiquan said. ‘I was out lookin’ for a job last night, and I’m gonna find one real soon.’

‘Get outta my face.’

Saiquan didn’t move. ‘Listen to me,’ he went on. ‘I made mistakes - I know I made mistakes - but that’s all in the past, know what I’m sayin’? It’s the future now, and I’m ready to put all that in-the-past shit behind me. I’m gonna work hard and provide, and I’m not gonna get back into no more of that dealin’ bullshit, neither. Look at me when I’m talkin’ to you, baby. I’m serious with this shit - this is the new Saiquan talking to you now. I messed up before - I know that - but I ain’t gonna mess up again. You got my word ‘bout that.’

Desiree glared at him, then said, ‘ ‘Scuse me.’

‘Didn’t you hear what I’m tellin’ you?’

Pushing past him, Desiree said, ‘Just pack your bags and get the hell out - I don’t wanna see yo’ lyin’, drug-dealin’ ass ‘round here no more.’

She went back into the bedroom and slammed the door and locked it.

Saiquan didn’t care - he knew everything would work itself out. Desiree had kicked him out before, and it didn’t mean shit. Yeah, she’d be mad for a while, maybe wouldn’t talk to him for a couple days, but then everything would go back to normal. And then, when he got a job, and she saw he was for real about what he was saying, they’d stop all this fighting and shit. They’d go back to the way they used to be when they first met, when they used to laugh and get busy and not hate each other so much.

Saiquan opened the refrigerator, seeing the bare shelves, and decided that was gonna change too - soon that fridge was always gonna be filled.

After finding some food stamps in one of the kitchen drawers, Saiquan left the apartment. He walked to the C-Town on Pennsylvania Avenue and bought some Wonder bread, bologna, cheese, and Hawaiian Punch. When he came home his kids were still watching TV.

‘I’m cooking y’all lunch,’ he said.

He made the sandwiches and put them out on the dining table with glasses of Hawaiian Punch. Trey and Felicia came to the table and started eating. Saiquan knocked on the bedroom door and told Desiree he’d bought food, but she wouldn’t come out.

After lunch Saiquan sat on the bunk bed and watched cartoons with his kids. Then, around three o’clock, the doorbell rang. Trey and Felicia, staring at the TV, acted like they didn’t hear the bell, or if they did, they didn’t care. Saiquan went to open the door, then stopped, thinking it might be the cops.

The bell rang again - a long ring, somebody keeping their finger down on the button. Saiquan opened the peephole slowly and saw the bottom of somebody’s face.

‘Open the door, yo.’

Saiquan recognized the voice - it was Kemar. Saiquan had known him since Kemar was twelve years old, when Saiquan recruited him to sell crack at his junior high school. Kemar was a thin little kid back then, but now the dude was six-four and looked like he could play linebacker for the Jets. He was sick-ass, too. While Saiquan was away, Kemar had worked his way up in the Crips and gotten a rep around the hood as a nigga who liked to give out pain.

‘Who’s it?’ Saiquan said, buying time, trying to figure out what to do.

‘You know who the fuck it is,’ Kemar said. ‘Open this shit right now.’

Saiquan looked back over his shoulder. Felicia was still watching TV, but Trey was looking right at Saiquan, knowing something bad was going on.

Saiquan opened the door a crack; then Kemar pushed it open all the way. Kemar was with Manny, another crazy-ass mother-fucker. They both had pieces out.

‘Yo, wait up,’ Saiquan said, ‘I got my kids here, man, I got my kids. Just chill. Lemme come downstairs and we talk this shit out, a’ight?’

Manny looked over at Kemar. Saiquan knew that if Kemar gave him the right look back, that would be it - they’d shoot him up right in front of his kids. Shit, they might kill all his kids and Desiree too while they were at it.

But Kemar tucked his piece back in his jeans; then Manny put his away too.

‘Five minutes, downstairs,’ Kemar said.

Saiquan knew it was his past with Kemar that got him the extra time and that was it. If Kemar got the order to go smoke somebody else, anybody else, he wouldn’t give a shit if the dude’s kids was there looking on or not.

‘Cool, five minutes,’ Saiquan said. ‘I’ll be right down, outside. We’ll work all this shit out, y’all, a’ight?’

Saiquan knew he was just talking bullshit, wasting his breath. There was nothing to talk about with these sick-asses. Maybe the past got him a few more minutes, but that was all it was gonna get him.

When the door closed Saiquan turned around and saw Desiree standing there with the baby.

‘Yeah, you really changed,’ she said.

He didn’t know if she’d been there the whole time, or if she’d just come out of the bedroom.

‘What you talkin’ ‘bout?’ he said. ‘They were just comin’ by to see if I wanted to shoot some hoops.’

‘You must think I’m real stupid. Just ‘cause I’m stupid enough to have yo’ kids, to stay with you all those years you was away, don’t mean I’m so stupid I don’t know what’s goin’ on. Lookin’ for a job last night, my ass. Why don’t you leave right now? Go out with yo’ gangsta friends. W e don’t want you ‘round here no more!’

The pacifier fell out of the baby’s mouth and she started crying. Desiree stuffed the pacifier back in and went into the bedroom, slamming the door so hard the mirror on the living room wall shook.

Saiquan went over to Felicia and Trey, who were still watching
Pokemon,
and said, ‘Look, y’all, I gotta go. You heard what yo’ mama be sayin’ - she don’t want me ‘round here no more, so I think it’s best that I leave for a while. Best for you kids anyway, know what I’m sayin’? I don’t want you growin’ up being ‘round a lot of fightin’ all the time, know what I’m sayin’? So I’m gonna go away for a while, give yo’ mama what she want, so y’all can grow up in peace.’

Saiquan kissed Felicia on top of her head.

‘I love you, baby,’ he said. ‘You do good in school, hear? And stay away from boys till you eighteen. Any boy come at you ‘fore then you tell yo’ brother about it and he’ll take care of it, know what I’m sayin’? And always be carryin’ Mace on you, or that pepper-spray shit. Nigga tries to touch you where you don’t want, you blind his ass, know what I’m sayin’?’

Felicia was looking at the cartoon on the TV. Saiquan wasn’t even sure she heard anything he’d said.

Saiquan turned to Trey. ‘Yo, you watch over yo’ sister now, hear? And mind yourself too. Do good in school, don’t do drugs, all that shit. I want you to grow up good - I want you to be somethin’. I’m countin’ on you, a’ight?’

Saiquan couldn’t think of anything else to say, and he was afraid he was gonna start to cry.

So he said, ‘See y’all later,’ and left the apartment quickly.

In the hallway outside the apartment, he couldn’t hold back any longer and he started crying, leaning his head against the wall next to the door. Then he told himself to stop being such a bitch and headed down the stairs again almost making it to the next floor, when he stopped, realizing that Manny and Kemar might not smoke him when he walked out the door. They might want to take him to an empty lot someplace, or some abandoned building, and do it there. And they might not do it right away, either. They might drag it out, torture his ass, to get some payback for what Marcus did to Jermaine.

Naw, he just had to be a man about all this shit. His life was over - he might as well get on with it.

When Ryan opened his eyes everything was blurry. Someone was talking to him, a guy with straight blond hair who kind of looked like Lupus from
The Bad News Bears.

‘How many fingers am I holding up?’ Lupus asked.

‘Two,’ Ryan said.

‘What’s your name?’

‘Ryan.’

‘What city do you live in?’

‘New York . . . Brooklyn.’

‘You’re fine.’

Ryan became aware of more voices around him. Then he remembered the gunshots, the car speeding away, and how he fell to the ground.

‘I was shot,’ Ryan said weakly.

‘No, you weren’t,’ Lupus said. Ryan realized Lupus was a paramedic.

‘But I heard a car,’ Ryan said. ‘Somebody—’

‘You didn’t get hit,’ Lupus said. ‘You just fainted.’

Rose-Marie Rossetti was kneeling next to Ryan, her makeup messed up from crying. She kissed her son’s hands a few times, then hugged his head and said, ‘Thank God . . . Thank God, thank God, thank God.’

Lupus asked him some more questions, making sure Ryan didn’t have any internal injuries, and that he didn’t bang his head when he fell. Ryan had a bruise on his side, but otherwise he was fine.

‘You wanna come with us for observation, you can,’ Lupus said.

‘I have to go?’

‘It’s up to you.’

‘Then no.’

As the paramedics helped Ryan to his feet, people clapped and cheered. Ryan looked over, realizing that there were more people gathered around than he’d thought. There must’ve been thirty or forty people, including several cops keeping people away from the crime scene as a couple of officers were busy surrounding the area with yellow tape. Ryan recognized many of his neighbors, and he acknowledged the crowd with a little wave.

Then, as the paramedics started to help Ryan up the stoop, Ryan spotted Jake in the back of the crowd off to the side. Jake was wearing dark sunglasses, so it was hard to read his expression, but he was looking right at Ryan and wasn’t smiling.

The paramedics led Ryan into the living room and helped him settle down on the couch. Sitting felt a lot better than standing. Rose-Marie brought him a glass of water.

‘Here. Drink this.’

Ryan took a short sip, then handed her back the glass. Lupus told Ryan that he should contact his doctor and report any unusual symptoms.

‘You got real lucky out there, guy,’ Lupus said. ‘But you’re gonna be okay.’

As the paramedics left a uniformed officer entered.

The cop sat next to Ryan and said, ‘How ya doin’? I’m Officer Brisco - Sixty-ninth Precinct.’

Rose-Marie, standing nearby, said to the cop, ‘You should let him rest.’

‘It’s all right, Ma,’ Ryan said.

‘You got any idea who shot at you?’ Brisco asked.

‘No idea,’ Ryan said.

‘But it was a drive-by.’

‘You saw the car?’ ‘Nah.’

‘Then how do you—’

‘I heard it.’

‘Oh. So you weren’t looking at the—’

‘I was heading up the stoop. I heard the shots behind me.’ Ryan was feeling a little dizzy again.

‘It must’ve been that same lunatic from last night,’ Rose-Marie said. ‘We’re not leaving the house anymore.’

Ryan reached toward his mother for the glass of water, and she gave it to him. As he was drinking, Detective Noll entered. Noll immediately started glaring at Ryan. Brisco went over to Noll and they talked for a couple of minutes - Noll looking over at Ryan every several seconds - and then Brisco left and Noll came over and took Brisco’s place on the couch.

‘Look, I know what you’re gonna say, all right, and it’s bullshit,’ Ryan said. ‘I have no idea what’s going on with any of this. I was walking into the house and somebody shot at me.’

‘How’d you know what I was gonna say?’

‘I don’t feel like answering any more questions, all right?’

‘Then how about if I arrest you?’

‘For what? Almost getting killed?’

‘Aiding and abetting . . . obstruction of justice . . .’

‘My son doesn’t have to talk to you without a lawyer,’ RoseMarie said.

‘Somebody just tried to murder your son,’ Noll said. ‘If he cooperates quickly, maybe we can catch this guy. . . . Unless your son has something to hide . . .’

‘Go ahead, ask me your stupid questions,’ Ryan said. ‘I’ll tell you what I don’t know about all of it.’

‘Who shot at you?’ Noll asked.

‘I have no idea.’

‘Who killed Marcus Fitts?’

‘I have no idea.’

‘Look, I don’t have time for bullshit, all right? Every second you jerk me around a killer gets farther away.’

‘What do you mean, killer? I’m not dead.’ ‘But Marcus Fitts is.’ ‘What makes you think that has anything to do with what happened to me?’

‘You’re right - how stupid of me. Maybe two people getting shot at three doors down from each other sixteen hours apart is a big coincidence.’

‘It could be.’

‘Ryan, I really think you should call a lawyer,’ Rose-Marie said. Ignoring his mother, Ryan said to Noll, ‘You know, instead of wasting your time talking to me, maybe you should be out there trying to find this guy.’

‘How do you know it’s a guy?’

Ryan shook his head in frustration. ‘Look,’ Noll said, ‘we have a good idea who this guy is. If you cooperate we can pick him up faster.’

‘You have a suspect?’ Rose-Marie asked. ‘We have a description of a perp who might be connected to the shooting last night, yes. African-American, about six feet, two hundred pounds, wearing a black winter jacket. Maybe thirty years old.’ Noll glared at Ryan. ‘Sound like a friend of yours?’

‘How many times I gotta tell you?’ Ryan said. ‘I got no—’ And then it started coming back to him - being at the bar last night and the two black guys coming over, hassling him, calling him Eminem. He remembered Saiquan, the big guy with the cornrows from Canarsie Park, and the skinny, crazier guy with braids, trying to mug him. A lot of the details still seemed foggy, like he was remembering a dream, but he knew it had happened.

‘Something wrong?’ Noll asked.

‘What?’ Ryan was barely able to speak. Suddenly he felt light-headed and dazed. ‘No. I .. . I just need some more water.’

‘This is too much for him,’ Rose-Marie said. ‘He needs to rest.’ ‘If you know something,’ Noll said, ‘you’d better fucking tell me.’ Ryan sipped the water slowly, buying time to get hold of himself. Then he put the glass down and said, ‘How many times do I have to tell you? I don’t know anything.’

‘You’re lying,’ Noll said.

‘Why would I lie?’

‘Are you okay?’ Rose-Marie asked Ryan.

‘No,’ Ryan said. ‘Actually I feel very shitty suddenly. I think I better lie down.’

‘He needs his rest,’ Rose-Marie said to Noll.

‘If you know who this guy is you’d better fucking tell me right now,’ Noll said to Ryan.

‘I don’t know who he is,’ Ryan said, straight-faced.

‘What about the car? We didn’t get plates, but we have a description from a guy walking his dog of a midsize dark blue car.’

‘No idea.’

‘Think.’ ‘I did think.’

‘He doesn’t know anything,’ Rose-Marie said.

‘Were you buying drugs from Marcus Fitts?’ Noll asked.

‘No,’ Ryan said, as if offended.

‘Were you trying to join the Crips?’

‘What?’ Ryan and Rose-Marie said.

‘Were you out last night with Fitts and whoever else, doing gang initiations? Is that how Jermaine Carter and Kevin Miles were killed?’

‘Who’re they?’ Rose-Marie asked.

‘Yeah,’ Ryan said. ‘Who the fuck are they?’

‘Jermaine Carter was a member of the Crips,’ Noll explained. ‘He was shot to death - brutally shot to death - last night. Kevin Miles was also shot and killed shortly afterward. W e believe the shootings are related to the shooting last night in front of the Thomases’ house and might be related to the shooting today.’

‘I swear to God, I have no idea what you’re talking about,’ Ryan said.

‘Or maybe it went like this,’ Noll said. ‘Maybe you had nothing to do with the Carter and Miles murders. But you did have a fight with Jake yesterday - you had your hands around his throat. You wanted to get into the Crips anyway, so you called your Crips buddies, who happened to be in the middle of a killing spree, and told them to come along with you to Jake Thomas’s house - you’d prove your worth to them. Kill two birds with one stone, so to speak. Then something went wrong. Marcus Fitts was shot and killed - maybe by somebody seeking revenge for the Carter slaying. You and the suspect fled the scene; then the suspect decided you knew too much, so he tried to take you out in a driveby.’

‘Look,’ Ryan said, ‘you’re making absolutely no sense, and I’m really getting sick of this shit.’

‘So then how do you explain how you got shot?’

‘I have no idea.’

‘So somebody shot at you for no reason?’

‘That’s what it seems like.’

‘You’re full of shit.’

‘That’s enough,’ Rose-Marie said to Noll. ‘Maybe instead of yelling at my son you should go out there and try to find the lunatic who did this.’

Noll looked at Ryan for a few seconds without blinking, then stood up, shaking his head.

‘Fine,’ he said. ‘You wanna be an idiot, be an idiot. But I hope you understand, we’re trying to protect you here. You wanna be a stupid son of a bitch and wind up dead, that’s up to you. But I’m telling you right now, I find out you lied to me about anything -
anything -
you’re in deep shit.’

Noll stormed out of the house.

‘What a horrible man,’ Rose-Marie said. ‘Some maniac shoots at you, you almost get killed, and he starts accusing you?’

Ryan got up, pretending it took more effort than it did.

‘I’m gonna go lie down.’

‘You sure that’s a good idea?’

‘What?’

‘What if you have a concussion?’

‘I’m fine.’

‘I want you to call a lawyer.’

‘Ma—’

‘I didn’t like him asking all those questions, threatening you.’

‘That’s what cops do.’

‘I still want to call somebody.’

‘Forget it. It’s over.’

‘Where the hell’s Dad anyway?’ Rose-Marie was looking at her watch. ‘I called him on his cell phone and he didn’t pick up .. . . Where’re you going?’

‘I told you. T o lie down.’

‘I don’t feel safe here alone.’

‘Don’t worry; there’re cops everywhere. Nothing’s gonna happen.’

Ryan continued upstairs.

‘Don’t fall asleep, whatever you do.’

‘I’ll be fine.’

Ryan went into his room and locked the door and sat on the bed with his head in his hands. Some of it was still foggy, but he remembered sitting at the bar, ripped out of his mind, when Saiquan and Marcus - yeah, that was the name of the skinny guy -came over and started harassing him. It was Marcus who’d tossed away his Spurs cap, and then they started talking about Jake. Ryan wondered if he had told Marcus and Saiquan to go after Jake, or maybe even to kill him. Then, for some reason, Saiquan shot Marcus, and now Saiquan was after Ryan.

Ryan remembered playing ball with Saiquan all those times at Canarsie Park. Ryan knew that Saiquan was a drug dealer, but he’d always figured that he’d just had a rough life and was doing what he had to do to survive. He’d never imagined him going around killing people.

Lying in bed, Ryan tried to relax, listening to Nas, but the throbbing music was giving him a headache. He shut off the stereo and started pacing, wondering if he’d done the right thing by not telling Noll everything he knew. If he’d told Noll Saiquan’s name and what had happened at the bar, they could’ve caught him quickly, and Ryan wouldn’t have to worry about getting killed. Now he’d have to stay in his house, with no police protection, until Saiquan got caught. And it wouldn’t accomplish anything either, because eventually Saiquan would tell his story and Ryan would be fucked. He couldn’t say he wasn’t at the bar last night, because he’d already told Noll he’d picked up Elly there, and other people might remember him. He’d try to explain that he was drunk and was just joking around when he’d told Saiquan and Marcus to go after Jake, or kill him, or whatever the hell he’d told them to do, but Noll would be so pissed off at Ryan for holding back information that he’d press charges against him for something.

Ryan left his room and headed downstairs. There was still a lot of commotion outside - hopefully Noll was still there. Ryan planned on telling him everything; maybe, if he was lucky, Noll would appreciate the cooperation and cut him some slack.

‘There he is - my son, the fuckin’ spook.’

Rocco Rossetti was in the living room, obviously drunk. Another confrontation with his father was the last thing Ryan needed.

‘Leave me the hell alone.’

Ryan headed toward the door.

‘Hey.’ Rocco grabbed Ryan’s arm hard, pulling him back.

‘Get the fuck off me,’ Ryan said.

‘I’m talkin’ to you.’

Rocco’s breath reeked of booze. It reminded Ryan of his own hangover, disgusting him even more.

Ryan jerked his arm free and said, ‘Why’d you even bother coming home?’

‘Your mother said you’re in some gang now; you’re dealin’ drugs.’

‘I never said that.’ Rose-Marie had just entered from the kitchen.

‘So that’s it, huh?’ Rocco said. ‘You’re a fuckin’ drug dealer now? You’re a fuckin’ nigger drug dealer?’

‘Just get away from me,’ Ryan said.

‘What’re you gonna do? Huh? Wanna hit me? Go ‘head - try it.’ Rocco jutted his jaw toward Ryan. ‘Crack me one - gimme your best shot. You better knock me out, ‘cause I’m gonna crack you one right back. My own kid turning into a dirty, drug-dealing spook.’

‘Stop it!’ Rose-Marie shrieked.

She tried to pull Rocco away. He backhanded her in the face, hard enough to knock her into the coffee table and onto the floor.

‘Get your fuckin’ hands off her,’ Ryan said. ‘You gonna hit me? Come on, what’re you waitin’ for?’ Ryan took a swing at his father and missed. Rocco grabbed him from behind.

‘My own kid selling fuckin’ crack,’ Rocco said. ‘Fuckin’ disgracing me.’

‘Motherfucker,’ Ryan said, breaking free. ‘Come on,’ Rocco said, giving Ryan a little come-here motion with his hand. ‘You want some too? Huh? You wanna taste?’

‘Leave him alone!’ Rose-Marie screamed.