Status: Coming along

Secret Hung the Gold

That's What Big Brothers Are For

Ernesto walked into the house, immediately being tackled with hugs from his little sisters. They smiled brightly, their eyes twinkling from whatever stories they were prepared to tell him. There was something about his little siblings that made his entire day worth it. Their smiles alone were the fuel that keeps him going.
Alex walked in the room, lightening up when he saw his brother. “Hey, bro.”
Ernesto finally pulled his sister off of him. “Hey, wassup?”
Alex motioned for him to follow him to the kitchen. Alex stood there, leaning against the chair with his head down.
“What’s going on?” Ernesto asked, raising his eyebrow in suspicion. His brother opened his mouth.
“I talked to Stratton... well, he talked to me.”
Ernesto placed both of his hands on his head and frowned. “And what did he say?”
“He wants me to run for him. ‘Cause he knows mom his struggling.”
Ernesto could feel his face turn red. “How’d he know that? I never told him!”
Alex’s head dropped lower as he shrugged. “It came up. He just started talking-”
“How many times did I tell you not to talk to Stratton?” Ernesto asked Alex while struggling to keep his voice low. “He only wants more runners. That’s it! How could you tell him about mom? How could you be so naive?”
“You run for him!” Alex blurted, looking Ernesto square in the eye. “You have for almost a year!”
Ernesto put his hands on his hips and closed his eyes. “There’s a difference.”
“Yeah?” Alex asked, stepping closer. “What?”
“For one, I don’t flaunt our personal business around to the local drug dealers!” Ernesto couldn’t help his failing temper. “Two, I can take care of myself on the streets. And three, I’m a grown ass man who is taking care of you! And you ruin it all!”
Alex’s eyes brimmed with tears. “I can take care of myself.”
“Really?” Ernesto asked, nodding his head sarcastically. “Then why are you crying?”
Alex let one tear fall but he wiped it before it could leave a trail down his face. Ernesto lowered his voice, trying to contain his anger. “Listen, the streets aren’t easy.” He lifted his brother’s head to eye level. “Do you know how many times I have been jumped? Beaten? Shot at?” His brother shook his head, more tears falling down his face. “You should stay in school. What did you want to be? An architect?” His brother nodded again, this time a sob coming from his throat. “I don’t know about you, but I have never met a drug dealing architect.” He let go of his brother’s chin, realizing that his hand was wet from tears.
Ernesto wrapped his brother in his arms. “Don’t worry, I’ll pull you out of this. That’s what big brother’s do.”
Ernesto let go of his brother and inhaled. He knew bargaining with Stratton, the leader of the local gang and drug ring was not going to be easy. He watched his brother wipe his face and walk into the living room. Their little sisters quickly included him in their game. Ernesto almost smiled at the sight.
Mom didn’t come home at six so Ernesto made dinner. Grilled cheese and potato chips, his best meal. He leaned against the refrigerator and watched his siblings devour the food. He felt like a father then, with Alex weighing on his mind, school, and money. He had an assignment due tomorrow but hadn’t even started it. A job interview on Friday he hadn’t even thought of. It seemed like Ernesto was the father in his family, but it had been like that for years.
Ernesto sent his siblings to bed, while he sat alone at the table. It was nine thirty now, the time when Stratton was out and prowling.
Without second thought, Ernesto left for Stratton’s place, locking the door behind him.
The night was hot, but as he neared Stratton’s place, becoming more and more crowded. People lined around the large house, waiting either to sell, or be sold to. Ernesto walked past the people into the run down house right up to Statton, who sat behind a desk.
“Ernie, my friend.” He looked around him on both sides. “Where’s your little brother?”
Ernesto leaned down over the desk, placing both hands on it. His look was menacing. “I don’t know what kind of business you are running, but don’t involve Alex in this.”
Stratton laughed. “Big Bro to the rescue, huh? Too bad he is already involved. He has to pull his weight or be pulled.” Stratton turned his index and middle finger into a gun. Ernesto swallowed.
Ernesto slammed his hand on the desk, hushing the loud crowd. “I don’t think you understand me. My brother is out.”
“And who is to fill in for him?” Stratton asked, struggling to hold his demeanor.
“I’ll carry it,” Ernesto said, shocking himself. “I’ll carry it all.”
Stratton smiled, snapping his fingers. A large blue duffle was thrown on the floor beside Ernesto’s feet. “I thought you’d say that.”
Ernesto inhaled. “You expect me to carry all this merchandise by myself?”
Stratton leaned forward placing both his elbows on the table and intertwining his fingers. “Is there a problem Big Bro?”
Ernesto noticed a man off to his side reach toward the back of his pants. Without another word his grabbed the duffel and walked toward the back door.
The hot night sent a shiver down his back. The street was empty but Ernesto knew there were eyes everywhere. At every intersection, under every broken streetlight, in the dark alley beside of any convenience store, down every deserted street, a potentially dangerous situation could end his life. And know that he has double the drugs, that danger is doubled.
Ernesto turned down the street, nearing the destination, Lincoln Park, the most dangerous of all government property. Ernesto tightened his grip on the strap of the duffel and quickened his pace. There were no lights in these projects, only the select few working front porch lights which were grouped together on the opposite side.
He felt eyes on him through the windows. He heard footsteps from the trees. He neared the house and sighed. Even though the hardest part of the delivery was over, whoever stood behind the door could just as easy determine the rest of his life.
He slowly reached for the doorknob, looking to his left and to his right as he did so. The door slowly opened and a hand reached out, passing him a wad of money and snatching the duffel in a single motion. Ernesto eyed the wad, estimating the amount. He began his journey back to Stratton’s house, with more of a quickness this time. With the same quickness druggies will gladly except a few thousand dollars in place of a bag of drugs.
It was less crowded than before but the line in front of the house still there. Again he walked past the group right up to the chipped desk. Without a word, Ernesto slapped the money on the desk, a smirk on his face.
Stratton smiled and counted the money. “Nice job. Be back here next week. Oh, and you might want this.” He reached under the desk and pulled out a brown paper bag. He slid it across the desk.
Ernesto knew what it was. He could see the shape of a barrel, the shape of a handle. He thought of his father and looked up into Stratton’s cold dark eyes. “No thanks, I can handle my own.” He slid the bag back towards Stratton.
“Okay, if you insist.” Stratton shoved his hand into the bag and pulled out the Beretta, holding it in the air. He looked once more at Ernesto’s stale face before placing it back under the desk. “You’re dismissed.” With a smug grin, Stratton separated five hundreds from his wad and slid it toward Ernesto. “For your troubles.”
Ernesto grabbed the money and began towards the back door, a smile growing on his face. The night was finally over, and he couldn't wait to crawl under the sheets of his bed.
That was Ernesto’s final thought before the sharp sound of a gun firing went off from behind him.