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WHAT ARE THE ODDS?

Short Story by Vanessa Rodriguez

By Vanessa RodriguezPublished 3 years ago 10 min read
8

The odds seem to have been stacked against me from a young age. My friends call me Shy, I was born on a hot July morning 1983 in The Bronx, New York to a Puerto Rican couple, Marisol and Sergio. They were high school sweethearts and although we didn't have much, my dad always seemed to make it work. We lived on the second floor in a six floor walk up apartment building, there were several similar buildings on that street, a few vacant lots and a corner store that everyone went to. We were always well-dressed and put together because that's how my dad liked it and Mom wouldn't have it any other way. Dad also loved jewelry so we always had gold chains, earrings, bracelets and rings. My mom was a beauty, light skinned, petite, with big brown eyes and a smile that would light up a stadium; a natural life of the party type. My dad was a serious character, tall, dark and handsome and the ladies loved him but never dared to step on my momma's toes. She was as fierce as she was beautiful and could throw down like a professional MMA fighter. Plus, my dad wasn't giving any of them the time of day. My parents were well respected on the block and everyone loved them. Sergio was no drug dealer but he dabbled in it from time to time when he needed to make ends meet, it was easy for him since the entire neighborhood was infested with drugs and addicts alike; otherwise he was hard working and sometimes held down two and three jobs at a time. Marisol stayed home with me and threw the best parties; dinner parties, dominoes parties, birthday parties, block parties, no matter what type of party it was, you were bound to have a great time. She was a great cook and Sergio had the biggest speaker system, the whole block could hear the music when we had parties. Sergio didn't smoke, drink or do any drugs, Marisol on the other hand, indulged in all of it; sometimes enough for the both of them. I loved both my parents but I was a daddy's girl.

By 1990, Sergio and Marisol were getting ready for a new addition to the family, my little brother. I wasn't too excited at first but then I realized, I would have someone to boss around which was pretty awesome. One winter night, Mom was about seven months pregnant at this point and was craving apple pies from McDonald's. Dad worked there so he could go at any time and pick up whatever he wanted, I thought it was the coolest thing ever. Me, being the daddy's girl that I was, insisted that I go with him. It was about a 15 minute walk, our car was out of commission and buried under snow. It was cold, dark and there was snow and ice on the ground as it had snowed for the past few days but I didn't care, I was going. Dad and I took off for McDonald's, the walk there seemed to go by so quickly as I jumped, ran and played in the snow. On our way back, we reached the corner of our street when a couple of guys, guns in hand, rushed us and demanded my dad's jewelry. He had a couple thick Cuban link gold chains with the bracelet to match and a huge ring on his right pinky finger. Sergio was no pussy, instinctively, he pushed one of the guys and told me to run. It was a steep hill down that street and I slipped on a patch of ice but got up and started running again. The adrenaline kicked in and my heart was pounding so hard, I felt like it was going to come out of my chest. As I reached the corner, I heard a single shot. I turned around so fast I almost lost my footing, the guys at the Cuchifritos Restaurant on the corner asked me if I was okay but all I could do was scream and cry as I saw my dad on the ground from a distance and the two men fleeing in a dark car. Once the car was out of sight, I quickly ran up that hill and watched my beloved father die as he whispered to me "I loved you baby girl, take care of your mother and baby brother." All I remember was police sirens and my mom crying, everything else was a blur. Life was never the same after that.

My brother Sergio, Jr. was born that Spring, Marisol fell into a deep depression and turned to drugs. She sniffed cocaine like it was nobody's business. Dad knew how to save so we had a safety net which only lasted us six months because Mom sniffed it all. We should have been good at least two year off of that money. By the time I hit 14 years old, I had 5 younger brothers and sisters, all from different dad's who were no longer in the picture. That wasn't all bad because some of them were total assholes who liked to feel up on me when Marisol was too high to notice. I did everything for my siblings until Marisol met Angel, he was a medium build, fun loving guy with gorgeous green eyes and was a big time drug dealer but that was none of my business. He treated all of us as if we were his kids and made Marisol get clean, even if he had to beat the crap out of her to do so. I thought, at least she's getting her ass beat for a good cause unlike the other dirt bags who beat her for shits and gigs. Angel moved us to a big beautiful house in Philadelphia and I thought new beginnings, life was going to be great going forward. Marisol had developed the gift of gab over the years and got herself a job even though she didn't need to, I guess it kept her mind off the drugs. Things were calm for a while but a couple years later, Angel got caught up by the cops and was facing 10 years in prison. They repossessed the house, the cars, everything, we had nothing. We had to move to a 3 bedroom apartment in a shitty neighborhood. Marisol relapsed and a year after that died of an overdose. Child services took me and my siblings to foster homes but I was going to age out in a few months. I promised my brothers and sisters that I would get them out of there no matter what.

I lasted a week in that foster home and ran away, no one was going to come looking for me because no one cared. I was very mature for my age and look just like my mother did at 17. I met a chic who was about 15 years my senior and they called her Big Sexy, she was tall with long black hair, Indian complexion and an ass that made men drool. She was ghetto but classy and took me under her wing. Big Sexy was a drug dealer, one of the few women in the game and I begged her to put me on so I could come up with the money I needed to save my siblings from the system. She said "Girl, you're too young to be caught up in this game and have your whole life ahead of you." I begged and begged until she made me the lookout, I was the best at it and no one got arrested on my watch. Since I was young and petite, cops always assumed I was somebody's child. In a few weeks, I graduated and started dealing myself. At that time, you could buy a house in Philadelphia for a few grand. Sure it wasn't going to be the beautiful house we lived in, but with a house and a job, I'd be able to get my siblings out of foster care. Being a drug dealer was like a job, we worked in shifts and if you were late, somebody else picked up your shift and you were out of that money. In just a couple of weeks I already had three thousand dollars saved. I figured I'd have what I needed in a couple months, just in time for my 18th Birthday.

I decided to work the graveyard shift one night because the money was good at that time and I rarely had to sell to young kids. My lookout was Nes, this tall, lean, brown skinned guy with eyes that pierced through my soul every time he looked at me. I was crushing hard but he was seven years older than me and wouldn't give me the time of day. It was a busy night and the money was rolling in like clockwork for the first few hours, then it got strangely quiet and as I walked towards Nes, he yelled "SHY, RUN!" We both took off through the vacant lot next to the trap house and went through the alley ways. Three blocks down was an abandon house, we jumped the fence and hid in the basement. We sat and talked the rest of the night away and of course I had to ask him "Are you married or gay?" He chuckled and said "Hell nah girl. Why do you ask?" I replied, "Because I've been giving you the looks for weeks now and you won't make a move." He laughed and said, "You're too young for me." I rolled my eyes and with a ton of sass, I said "I'll have you know, I practically raised myself and I'll be 18 in a few weeks!" We talked some more and by the early morning he kissed me gently and said "how's that for a move" then fell asleep.

As he slept, I started wandering around the house which looked like whoever lived there left in a hurry. I went into a room that looked like it was used for a home office, it had a huge vintage desk with a chair made for a king, a wall to wall bookshelf and a globe of the earth, certainly not something you would see in the ghettos of Philadelphia. I dusted off the chair, sat down and put my feet up on desk. I looked in the drawers where I found some of accounting ledgers, documents and papers and under it all were 2 small stacks of crispy one hundred dollar bills with a band from the bank around them that read $10,000 on each stack. My eyes opened so wide and I let out a sigh of relief because I knew I had just enough to do what I promised. When I was done looking through all of the drawers, I put the money inside my pants so Nes wouldn't notice. I took a look at the bookshelf which held a bunch of books all covered in dust, then I saw a little black book that seemed out of place. It was smaller than the other books and was placed right in the middle of the bookshelf. As I walked towards it, Nes came in startling me. “Shit!” I exclaimed. He apologized and told me we were in the clear and could get going. "I think I found something" I said as and headed towards the little black book. As I removed the book from it's place, the entire bookshelf slid open and revealed a money counting room. On the table was a stack of money almost as tall as him. I opened the small book in my hands and in it was handwritten addresses with amounts next to them. We turned to each other wide-eyed and I said softly, "we could build a new life." He smiled and said “I’m In.”

fiction
8

About the Creator

Vanessa Rodriguez

I've been wanting to write a book for a couple of years now and I guess I've procrastinated enough. Aside from life experiences, I have vivid dreams that give ideas for writing and I'm here to make my debut.

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