Dirty Work: Part 2

He needed some fresh air, too. She welcomed the company. They passed through the hallway, into the elevator, and breezed through the quiet lobby. Stepping out into the summer air felt energizing.

Eshon lit a cigarette and then pushed Kid down the quiet boulevard. It was just the two of them—friends out on a walk. For a moment they were silent, taking in the calmness of the area. Few cars passed by, and the twenty-four-hour McDonald’s was starting to form a long line going through their drive thru. They traveled half a block.

They wanted to forget about their troubles behind them and the quandary ahead of them, but it was difficult. They were at war with a terrorist group, something completely unexpected—and these suicide bombers weren’t just a threat to them, but to their country. What would they attack next? And how long would it go on? It was a question that had crossed both of their minds, but now didn’t feel like the appropriate time to talk about it.

The Kid held the keys to the legacy his brother had left behind—a vessel floating aimlessly at sea and armed with lots of guns. He was steering the ship, but to where? So far he seemed to be doing a good job keeping everyone alive and pushing forward against very dangerous enemies, but could he completely fill his brother’s shoes? Was he a thug like them? Could he carry on with this lifestyle and die for it like Kip had died for it? He had already proven himself to be a killer. It had to be in his blood like it had been in Kip’s. His kills were increasing, Jessica being his latest coldhearted act. But how soon until he found himself on the other side of the gun or blown to pieces by one of Maserati Meek’s suicide bombers? Was he smarter than them, or was it just luck on his side?

“Kip didn’t want this life for you,” Eshon said, out of the blue.

“Who knew what my brother wanted?”

“He didn’t want this for you, Kid. He always thought you were smarter than this. I did too. He did him out there only to try to give you a better life.”

“A life without him isn’t a better life,” he said.

She sighed. “I agree. But Kid, you always had something the rest of us didn’t. You have talent, and you’re smart. And even though you can’t walk, your intelligence can take you places none of us can even dream of. You never allowed your handicap to defeat you. You found a way to defeat it.”

It was a motivational speech. Kid kind of felt bad for deceiving her.

“What do I have to go back to, Eshon? Our home looks like Syria, Kip is dead, and Nana’s dead, though I couldn’t stand her . . . and yeah, I’m smart, but my intelligence didn’t help my brother much. He looked out for me, but I couldn’t look out for him.”

“You think hanging around Devon and Papa John will bring some kind of closure in your life—that they gonna make things better for you? Devon is a monster on a violent warpath. They’re killers, Kid, and you’re not. Those niggas are about that life—they got nothing to lose, but you’re one of the best chess players this city has ever seen. When I watch you play, it’s like watching Michael Jordan on the basketball court. You’re just as unstoppable. I would hate to see something happen to you because of you hanging around with them two fools and their wild crew.”

Her words made him smile. If only she knew the truth about him, what would her thoughts be then? He was exactly like Devon and Papa John—maybe a lot worse.

“Right now I don’t know what I want, Eshon. I know I need to be around familiar faces right now. I don’t wanna be alone.”

“You’re not alone. I’m here for you and I will always be here for you. You’re my friend, Kid, and you’ll always be my friend.”

“And you’ll always be my friend, too.”

Eshon continued to push him down the street. The heart-to-heart talk they were having was a b

it therapeutic. Eshon felt that Kid was the only one she could talk to. She could tell him anything. Even when his brother was alive, she could confess her feelings about Kip to him, whether they were good or bad, and he wouldn’t overreact. Kid was never an emotional person, and he didn’t judge people. He had always been reasonable and understanding.

“You know, Brandy came to me not too long ago about leaving town—packing our bags and starting a new life somewhere else,” she mentioned. “I damn near cursed her out for bringing it up.”

“Why?” he asked.

“I always felt that my life is here, in Harlem and in this city.”

“Is it still here?”

A heavy sigh escaped her lips as they crossed the intersection. She looked ahead of him, transfixed on a thought. “My heart was filled with rage. I wanted Jessica dead with a passion. I couldn’t leave New York while that bitch was still alive. But now that she’s dead . . . I don’t know, I thought I would feel better, but I don’t. It’s like . . . I feel a lot sadder now. I just want things how they used to be.”

“It will never be the same.”

“I know, but what next? This fight with Maserati Meek, is it my fight?”

“He killed my brother.”

“But I don’t want him to kill you too, or us. What are we up against?”

“You can leave town with Brandy if you want, Eshon. If you’re looking for my blessing, I give it to you. I can take care of myself,” he proclaimed.

She didn’t truly believe that. “I made a promise to Kip to look after you. It’s a promise that I plan on keeping.”

“I got my life and you got yours, Eshon. Just live it without feeling you have an obligation to me—because you don’t.”