Hood Ornaments

The clouds were swirling around the sun. One moment, its beams would beat down on the back of Rondell's neck. The next, the cool breeze would give him goose bumps. His mother called it pneumonia weather.

Rondell's grimace became slight smile at the thought of his mother; one woman whom he respected with every fiber of his being. He used to think his mother was strange. She never watched T.V., nor did she ever hang out at Henry's, the local pub outside of town. She worked as a nurse at the hospital and came home to her husband. Luke

When Betty wasn't cleaning the house, cooking the meals, or proofreading Luke's sermons, she was reading anything and everything she could get her hands on. Dell was slightly jealous of the fact that Betty was able to read anything and absorb it like a sponge. He could study for weeks and still have a hard time passing an exam. And although he admired the fact that his parents were honest, hardworking, God-fearing people, it wasn't enough for him. They could barely afford to keep the cable and house phone connected. School clothes were normally bought at discount clothing stores after school started. This made Dell feel inadequate.

He didn't want to blend in.

He wanted to stand out.

He wanted the girls to like him.

He wanted the guys to respect him.

That's why he had to do what he had to do.

Much to his parents chagrin.

Luke's brother, Samuel "Sticks" Martin, seemed to indulge Rondell. He bought him a Blackberry and would often send over bags of designer clothes to the house. If Luke happened to be home, he would set the bags on fire in the old-fashioned barbeque pit in back of the yard mumbling about Satan's money. Betty, however, would occasionally intercept a bag while Luke was at Bible study. She would often ration out the clothing to Rondell as a reward for his good behavior. But even though Rondell respected his parents completely, their behavior made them idolize his Uncle Sticks even more. That's why he was so upset with Tori. From what he overheard Sticks say about Andre Watts, Dell knew her father was the man.

No one messed with him.

Why didn't she know that?

Why didn't she love that?

Why was she so mad at him?

Rondell grumbled those angry questions under his breath. That anger carried him the sixteen blocks the loft apartments overlooking the river. Sticks owned a rooftop two-story loft. Rondell loved to go there and open all of the windows. It seemed being up that high took the stench of the city out of his discount clothing replacing it with scent of new money. He looked up at the top to see if any of the windows were open. Not being able to tell, he walked around to the lobby right by security. The guards were all given strict orders from the management not to question any of Mr. Martin's guests.

Rondell pushed the button a couple of times, but he did not get an answer. He then looked at the guard behind the desk. He was an older, heavy-set Hispanic gentleman with a menacing expression. "Yo, he up there?" Rondell asked as he pointed to the button on the wall. The guard looked up from his morning newspaper and shrugged. "Not sure, people have been coming in and out all day; it's Saturday."

Rondell gave him an acknowledging, upward nod, "Aiight, thanks," he said as he pushed open the glass door. He shook his head as he reached into the deep pocket of his sweatpants to pull out his phone. The phone rang several times before Sticks picked up.

"Sup nephew," Sticks answered.

"Yo Unc, it's me ringing the bell," Dell quipped.

"I know you don't have an attitude with me after I explained the rules to you several times already,"

“My bad Unc. It's just that..."

“It's just what?"

"Nothing, I’m sorry. Are you busy? Can you let me in?

"Ring the bell," Sticks answered and hung up quickly.

"Aiight, thanks Unc I appreciate it,"

Dell waited for a response,

"Hello?”

He shook his head again, muttered something under his breath, before shoving his phone back into his pants pocket and heading back into the building. He pushed the button again and this time the lobby echoed with a buzzing sound. Dell looked for a reaction from the guard, but he neglected to look up from his paper. Dell went to the large, steel elevators that were already open. He entered, and pressed the loft button and smiled.

He always felt important when he did that.

Like he was rising to the top.

Top of the world.

Escaping reality.

Airing out the stench.

New money.

When the elevator doors opened into the foyer of Stick's loft. Rondell was greeted by another guard.

This one wasn't in uniform.

And he looked much more menacing than the old guy downstairs.

He stood about six-foot five and was built like a large refrigerator with thick dreads down to the middle of his back. His triceps were the size of Rondell's head.

"State your business," the refrigerator bellowed towering over Dell.

With as much courage as Dell's as his adolescent voice could muster,

“I am here to see my..."

A voice interrupted him, "He's cool Mann," and Mann moved out of the way. Dell looked around sheepishly and stepped down into the sunken living room where his Uncle was sitting on a patent leather white couch with red and black pillows. Everything in the loft was white, black or red.

Even Sticks who stood wearing black jeans, a Phillies jersey and a matching hat.

His eyes were a piercing topaz color contrasting his own reddish complexion. The other large jewels in his ears their only competition.

Sticks walked over to Rondell and embraced him.

"Nephew, sup how are you?"

"I'm aiight, Unc, I'm aiight."

Sticks put his arm around Dell and guided him through the living room into the study while simultaneously pointing at Mann to stand back by the elevator. Mann nodded and resumed his position like a soldier in an at ease position.

As at ease as a soldier could be.

They entered the onyx and cherry wood study, Dell took a seat on the black leather couch while Sticks walked over to the bar to make himself a drink.

"Drink?" Sticks asked without looking up.

"Nah, I'm good."

"Are you?" This time Stick's eyes looked at his nephew. He chuckled, “because, this is an awkward time of day for you to be coming by?"

Dell rubbed his hand together, "Well, I was just wondering if you were serious about your offer?"

Sticks finished making his drink, came around the large

desk and sat on its edge.

Smiling he asked, "My offer?"

"Yeah Unc, I need to get in on this money."

Sticks heartily laughed, “This money huh?" He put the drink down on a coaster and wiping any condensation on the desk off with his hand.

"Boy, you do know ain't no real money in this in the beginning."

Dell nodded and rolled his eyes,

"Yeah, yeah I know but I gotta start somewhere."

Sticks shook his head and crossed his arms.

"You young boys think you know everything. What you don't know is once you get in there ain't no getting out.”

As he continued his speech his arms would flail and halt as if he were purposely punctuating words,

“You will be watched, followed, labeled a derelict of society, killers of your generation..."

"Ugh, I know. You sound like Tori right now.”

All of a sudden, Sticks’ whole demeanor changed.

"What did you say Rondell?”

"I was talking to Tori about how you was gonna make me rich this summer, and she started preaching the same shit you talkin bout. Then I had to tell her who her father was..."

In an instant, Sticks leaped off the desk, picked up Rondell by his throat and pinned him to the wall.

"What did you tell that girl Rondell?!" Sticks yelled inches from Dell's face.

Dell answered strained between choking,

"I told her...what I heard you say...about Dre."

"The fuck you listening to my conversations now?!!" Sticks yelled getting angrier by the minute.

"No...I....you...were...loud"

This caused Sticks to tighten his grip around Rondell's throat and lean in towards his ear and hiss.

"I am going to tell you this one time and one time only. Whatever I say in this house stays in this house. You hear me?"

Rondell could barely nod.

"Also, you are not to question me about this next statement. You never, ever tell that young girl anything about what goes on here, but at all times you protect her with your life! Family or not, if you go against that, I will eliminate you."

Sticks let go of his nephew, walked over to the desk and downed the drink in one gulp. Leaving Rondell standing against the wall rubbing his neck.

Afraid to move.