Drip.
'That damn sink..'
I heard it every night, it was the faucet in the hallway bathroom.
That tap kept leaking even though I fixed it a week ago.
Drip.
Sometimes, when the house was completely silent, it almost sounded like a clock.
Drip.
Drip.
Drip.
In my apartments small kitchen, I sat hunched over a brown table. The glow of my phone screen had kept me awake.
I scrolled through all my unpaid bills, overdue rent payments, loaned off Medical fees, electricity bills, there where even some unpaid parking tickets in the mix.
All together it formed a sum worth far more then i could afford.
Dropping my phone on the table I raised my hands to my head and scratched it irritably.
I always thought that I'd get through these kind of things, that with perseverance and willpower I could find a way to solve all of this.
But nowadays, everything I did felt like covering a stab wound with a ball of string.
Drip.
With the constant sound of dripping echoching through the house, my thoughts span around in circles.
Drip.
But no matter how much I thought about it, only one answer remained clear to me.
Drip.
I needed money.
________________________________________
"Aahhhhh", Inhaling the Oakland air at this time of night somehow felt alot more refreshing.
There where no worries at night, most cops where off shift, no social norms to abide by and most importantly I didnt have to worry about old ladies nagging me for smoking on the street.
Being alone like this truly was the most peace I'd got nowadays.
Taking my cart out my pocket I began to subconsciously think.
Before I left I told Paul I was heading out to "clear my mind," it kinda irritated me that I had to tell him about what I was going to do, but mom was so insistent about it that I gave in.
And honestly it's not like I was going to tell them the truth anyway 'clear my mind?' I scoffed, I rarely did any thinking, I just needed a reason to get out the house.
'not like I could tell them I needed to smoke anyway..' taking a deep inhale from the cart I noticed the metallic taste it had.
"Dammit, I'm fucking low." Cursing under my breath I put it back into my pocket and put my headphones on.
Playing some music I began to leisurely enjoy my late night walk around the neighborhood, there wasn't much to see around the streets here, just empty alleys and the occasional guy walking around like me, even then it wass more fun to me then staying at home.
Whilst walking around a corner near main street, under a flickering streetlight, I caught something that made me pause.
A man in a dark gray suit stood in near the flush station entrance, his suit was fresh and high quality like some sort of business corporate leader.
Across from him, a tweaker looking guy with cheap shoes and a beat-up Giants cap was kneeling on the floor with one hand ubbing his cheek, blood slowly dripping down from his cheek.
I had seen shit like this before, guys who messed with the mob some sort of gang and had to pay the repercussions.
It was already late in the night and although I wasn't smart, I wasn't dumb enough to get involved.
'well, it's not like he's gonna kill me for looking.' I slowly lifted one side of my headphones and subtly walked closer to get a better look.
Under the streetlight the suited man held out a thick roll of cash, looking closer I noticed the bills on top to be a clean frank, I wasn't sure if he noticed me or not but the man continued to look down at the man watching him struggle to get up.
"You want to try again?" he said, his voice was surprisingly calm and slightly tender; like how Paul would talk when he wanted something frome me.
The homeless guy nodded.
They stood infront of eachother and curled their hands into a fist, and did the last thing I expected.
"Rock... paper... scissors!" the suited man spoke loudly.
The tweak threw rock. The suited man's hand formed paper.
CRACK
Like a whip being snapped a sharp slap rang out, echoing throughout the quiet street. The guy stumbled back, dazed.
Without my control a loud laugh released from my lips.
'Holy shit! That nigga got the dog slapped outta him!' it was too sudden, even when I noticed both of them looking towards me it was hard for me to stop myself from laughing.
Before I could say anything or even fully begin to control myself the man had walk towards me and gave a friendly smile.
"Want to try your luck?" he asked, holding up the thick roll of cash in the air.
I had finally begun to control myself and wiped the laugh from my face, looking into his eyes I didn't say anything just watching what type of man he was, but he said nothing more.
"Interested in what? Being slapped?"I mocked him with a smile.
If I was being honest I was slightly curious in what this was, but the image of that guy getting slapped back onto the floor was still fresh in my mind. Yet the slight discomfort I felt was covered by my interest in the huge wad of cash this guy was holding.
The suited man's smile widened.
"Haha, no. This is a game. The games quite simple. You play rock-paper-scissors with me. If you win, you get a hundred dollars. If you lose, you get slapped. You can keep playing as much as you like."
I couldn't help but raise an eyebrow at his statement, was this some sort of saw shit? Win rock paper scissors for $100?
Quickly looking around me, I checked if there where any hidden cameras or someone hiding in a bush looking for a reaction.
There was none.
"Aight but first let me hold one of those bills? See if if it's real or not?" I questioned.
He didn't respond.
Instead, he held the cash higher, letting it catch the warm glow from the streelight.
'Mann, this has to be some bullshit.' I couldn't help but feel like this was a scam, whether he'd give me the $100 or whether I was being played a fool but for some guys channel, I couldn't tell, but I could tell something wasn't right
But I still couldn't turn it down right away, that blueish hue radiating from that stack seemed almost holy.
'Should I just rob him?' looking at the guys still holding a bill to the light tilting it in different angles the thought spurred to life.
But I didn't have any weapon on me, and a unarmed robbery was basically asking to get killed in Queens.
"Haaaaaaaah..." Releasing a loud sigh I thought about my almost empty cart and valentines coming up.
'Fuck,I need that money how I'm spose to get a date with no bread?' slowly giving in, I thought for a second more before agreeing, what was the worst that could happen?
Subconsciously looking to guy still on the floor I held a wince from forming on my face.
"Fuck it," i finally agreed.
"Let's do it, but if you give me my money, I know our face." Saying my last words to assure myself I put my hand into a fist before the man began the game.
"Rock... paper... scissors!" The man spoke evenly whisky throwing his had down in sync with mine.
I threw paper. The suited man's hand formed scissors.
A brief moment of silence occurred. Then, a smack so sharp I felt my brain blur hit me.
I stumbled backwards almost losing balance, I instantly tasted a hint of blood in my mouth, that slap had split the inside of my cheek.
"Tssshhhh, fuckkkk.. c'mon man! Did you need to go that hard". The dude was pretty small, even a bit old, but fuck! He packed a slap like a professional boxer on tren.
Holding my cold hand to my stinging cheek, I watched as the man smiled and said nothing; still holding the roll of money in his hand.
Slowly Straightening myself up, I gathered the blood from my mouth and spat, I still felt a little shaky yet a grin had somehow found its way onto my face.
"Again?"
"Of course." He said while putting his hands back into a fist.
The sting of my cheek kept my mind vividly awake.
The man got into position and began to speak.
"Rock...Paper...Sc-"
"Wait wait wait wait wait, give me one second." I spoke hurriedly, I really didn't want to get slapped like that again.
"Of course." The man gave a nod and lowered his hands.
Holy shit, that hurt I need a plan this time I can't just get lucky. Luckily for me I had the perfect plan in mind; no matter what, I'd throw out a rock, or atleast that's what he'll think.
This guy obviously knew what he was doing so I had to think 3 steps ahead.
'I'll make him predict me throwing a rock so then he'll go with paper, but I'll predict that papers with scissors, but knowing I'd predict that he'll go with rock!'
So all I had to do was throw paper and I'd win!
Mentally auplading myself for that smart ass idea, I let him know I was ready.
"Ok let's go, Rock... paper... scissors!"
I spoke whilst watching the mans hands deeply.
Rock. Rock. Rock. Rock
I threw out rock, he threw out paper.
SLAP
i didn't even have time to calibrate my loss before a heavy hand hit me like a strike from god himself.
I felt my brain shake and my mind half colapse.
Did I really need this money, was this even worth it?
For a second thoughts spurred into my head out of my control.
"Aughhhhh.. ahhhhtsss" slightly getting a grip of what just happened, it took me a good 10 seconds before I even noticed that I was on the floor.
'Fuck...That scumbag didn't pull his punches at all!' rubbing my jaw I slowly lifted myself back onto my feet.
Standing back up I looked the man dead in his eyes and spoke.
"Again!" At this point I wasn't even doing this for the money, this was now a case of dignity, I couldn't go home like this.
The man was silent as usual, ready to begin the third round.
'I have to win this time.. this nigga will really knock me out if I'm not careful.'
Taking in a deep breath I readied mysef, this one had to be a win. I couldn't even imagine being a hit a third time, no it was more like my brain didn't have the luxury to imagine it's own sucumbance.
Gripping my fist into a tight hold I got ready to play again.
"Rock... paper... scissors!" He began the countdown.
I watched with half attention as the man casually threw a paper and I threw a scissors.
I held my eyes on the scene for a few seconds, the sight of his open hand and my scissors had caught me by surprise.
My attention faltered as his hand disappeared from my sight, I looked up to see the man taking a bill from the roll and holding it out to me.
I silently looked at the bill and hesitantly took it.
Looking up from the glowing bill, I noticed the mans eyes locked onto mine, his eyes weren't the same as before, they seemed more sinister now, I couldn't explain it, but they felt more... chilling.
He smiled and asked, "Again?"
Holding the uncrumpled bill in hand I rubbed it inbetween my fingers and silently thought.
"Sure."
This money was already enough to get a new cart and get a date for Valentine's, but what if I kept winning? I could help paul out with food at home, and if I kept winning even more who knows? I might be able to get a bike or something.. this was a once in a lifetime opportunity.
15 mins later
The world around me had blurred a concophany of slaps, and the bliss of winning.
I wasn't sure how long I had been playing anymore, I didnt even know where I was anymore or how I got here, the only thing that mattered now was winning.
"****... Paper... sc******!" I instinctively threw out a scissors.
I couldn't see clearly what the man had thrown out, my head hurt and my right eye swollen to the point of blindess, but... My fucking pockets felt like bricks!
I braced myself for a slap, this had become my routine, if I bothered to see whether I lost or not a slap would hit me before I was prepared.
I felt a nudge on my chest, turning my face forward I looked to the man as he held another bill towards me.
I had won.
"That's enough.", The suited man spoke whilst digging a hand into his vest.
Slowly he drew out what looked like a business card.
I half-heartedly took it from him and examined what I could.
Three shapes in black ink: a circle, a triangle, and a square, turning it around; there was a 6 digit number.
"If youre serious about changing your life, call that number," the man said softly, and smiled, it felt like we had made a bond.
"If youd like to play a real game," the man added as he turned away, I watched as he walked away his polished shoes clicking down the street until he vanished into the night.
I stood there for a moment, wind caressing the sides of my scalp, it helped alleviate some of his pain.
I looked down at the card again.
"I need tell paul bout this..."
_________
Sean burst into the house without knocking; a regular trait of his.
A whiff of weed and cheap cologne followed him, but it didn't matter to me, what had caught my eyes was the state of his face.
I put down my phone and gave him a look.
"The fuck happened to you?" I wasn't exactly one to budge into his business Sean, but this time, the damage was too much to ignore.
He paused, his fingers brushing the bloody, split skin on his cheek. "Ah... man, this? Dont worry, it ain't as bad as it looks."
I stood up walked towards him, observing his face, I saw the the plump bloody mess that was his cheek, his lips torn in multiple places and his right eye swollen to an extreme extent, It'd take a few weeks at the least to heal.
'God knows how much the hospital fee would be for this.." Releasing a sigh I looked into his eyes and spoke.
"Who did this to you? Did you get jumped? You owe someone again?" I could already imagine what kind of mess he got into, when it came to Sean I wouldn't even be surprised if someone wanted him dead.
Sean laughed, but it came out thin. I watched as he awkwardly glanced around the kitchen, like he expected mom to peek out.
Then he pulled a crumpled wad of cash from his pocket and dropped it on the table.
"Hehe, trust me bro, I told you, it's not as bad as it looks." He spoke whilst straighening the cash on the table.
I looked at the cash for a moment before my eyes were again fixed on his one good eye.
"Don't bullshit me." I spat. "You think I'm happy your out inna street getting involved in this typa shit for cash? What you think ma gon say when she see you come home looking like this?"
Sean's grin wavered. His hands retreating from the cash and back into his pockets.
"I ain't get jumped, man," he half responded.
"I played a game..."
My brow subconsciously furrowed. "What kinda game? Dice? hustle? Cards?"
Sean shook his head, chuckling weakly. He reached into his back pocket and pulled out a small white card and handed it to me.
I snatched it before he could explain. It was plain, extremely plain.
Just three shapes: a circle, a triangle, and a square the only thing of note was the number on the back.
"What is this?" I asked, my voice low, if he somehow got involved with some sort of cartel drug maniacs, god knows what I'd have to do.
Sean shifted his weight, scratching the back of his neck.
"Shiii, it's kinda a long story.." he stammered, his eyes looking back to the cash.
I followed his eyes and took another look at the money on the table. From a quick glance I could tell the money was real, maybe a few thousand, I wasn't sure.
I felt the thin card in my hand, I turned it over, flipping it again and again. Nothing changed.
"Some dude in a suit, downtown by the station. He had alot of cash.. Said we play rock-paper-scissors. If I win, I get paid. If I lose, he slaps me."
I just stared.
"So... He slapped you?" I said giving a look towards his swelling cheek.
An unexpected laugh cracked through the room.
"Man, it sounds dumb as shit when you say it like that. But look... I made more money tonight than I made in the last two months doing that door to door gig."
I threw the card onto the table.
"And now what? You think this is some magic fix? What're you going to do now with your face like this?" I spoke whilst grabbing the money on the table.
"You gotta understand Sean this isn't anything alright? You got your ass beat for a band or two, now what? you gonna call em and let them spank you next time?"
Sean flinched at that. I could see him grinding his teeth even through his battered face, but this was something he needed to understand.
"What else I'm spose to do?" he shot back.
"You think you the only one who wanna make money n' help out around here? You think I don't hear Ma coughing her lungs out all night? You think I don't hear you on the phone begging bill collectors to wait one more week?"
"..." I couldn't refute that, He wasnt wrong. But... Looking at his bloody face, I could tell something about this wasn't right.
The fact that they gave him a card telling him to come back was proof of that.
"This is too reckless, Sean." I couldn't afford to allow us to get mixed into the wrong crowd.
"Maybe, But at least I did something. You just sit there N' scroll through those bills like they gon' pay themselves."
Silence. The kitchen came to an eery silence.
Drip.
Drip.
Sean release a weery breath, his shoulders loosening. He stepped forward and rested a hand on my shoulder, his touch awkward but sincere.
"I ain't saying we gotta call em. But If I have the chance to help this family out, then I'll do it." he said, his voice lower then before.
I didn't say anything, not because I couldn't, I just needed time to think.
Quickly counting though the cash I noted the amount that Sean had "won" was $2,300.
It wasn't enought to pay for everything but with this I could atleast get the tickets out the way and
I removed his hand and looked down at the card on the table.
I quickly thought about everything I was told, getting slapped for money, a card,.probably for more games....then to this family.
Mom's meds. Those damn bills.
It felt like my own dignity hung by a thread.
I sighed, releasing the tension fromy body.
"I'll think about it." I relented, whether this was bad or not this money could really help.
"Great!" Sean said, trying to lighten the air, "let's count up that money though, I forgot how much it was."
Despite myself, a laugh burst out of me.
This might not be so bad.
Drip.
I wiped the stress off my face and picked up the card one more time. The shapes stared back at me.
I didn't know what this card meant, or what it could cost us.
But it was worth trying.
Drip.
Drip.
Drip.
At 2:43 a.m., I dialed the number.
A smooth, unfeeling voice answered after the first ring.
"Do you wish to participate in the game?
If you wish to participate, please state your name and birthdate.."
I swallowed. "Paul Carter Bishop. September 19, 2002."
"Thank you. You will be picked up tomorrow at 3:00 p.m. Please be ready."
Click.
Sean snatched the phone and called next, his voice calm despite his fidgeting hands.
"Sean Levine Bishop. December 17, 2005."
Click.
With everything done we sat together in silence, the only reminder of time being occasional dripping faucet.
________________
The next morning, Sky made breakfast, toast, two eggs each and an orange split three ways. She handed me my plate without a word, her eyes switching between me and Paul.
Mom stayed in her room, she didn't often poke her head out. Her sickness had got so bad she preffered to eat in bed than waste energy dragging herself to the table.
I watched Sky as she ate. Usually she'd be energetic and yapping about gym class, sum anime character, or bragging about some new show to watch.
But today she was silent.
Her head was down, shoulders hunched, picking at her eggs.
'she gonna eat that..?'
"Sky," Paul spoke up ebofre I could.
She didn't seem to care continuing to pick ay her food.
"Don't skip school today," he said, his voice thin.
Sky finally lifted her head. "You coming back?"
I choked on my water.
'Did she hear everything?' it was almost 1am last night, no way she was up listening to us.
"Of course," Paul replied quickly without a pause.
She stared at him for a second, it looked like she wanted to say something, but she never did.
We all finally began to eat.
Me.and Paul finished up quick.
And headed for the exit. On my way out I made sure to ruffle sky's hair on the way out.
"Aight bro, you gotta hold it down for us while we out, k?"
She snorted and rolled her eyes. "Sure," she mumbled, but there was a softness somewhere in there.
Probably.
Paul grabbed his hoodie, the same bape hoodie he's had since highschool. He stopped at the door and looked back once.
Sky was at the sink now, scraping leftovers into the trash, head down, moving fast. She didn't turn around.
I glanced at Paul and let out a long exhale. "You good?"
He looked like he might say something deep, but he just said, "No."
I grinned and slapped his shoulder. "Perfect."
Right on time, 8 am, a matte black van rolled up.
I looked into the car window, inside was a driver wearing a red jumpsuit with a mask on. It had a weird symbol but I couldn't really see it behind the tinted glass.
We locked eyes then the back door silently slid open.
Some weird smoke lifted out the car similar to when a hotbox was opened.
I jumped in first. I knew my brother well, he overthinks everything.
If I waited even one more second, he'd find a reason to turn around and go home.
Paul stood there frozen for a sec, turning around to take another look at the apartment entrance, I followed his gaze, all I saw where cracked steps, a bicycle tire locked to the rail with no frame old sneakers by the entrance, and the janky-ass front door.
I didn't get what there was to see, so I just waited.
A few seconds later he got in.
As Soon as he sat down the door was shut and the man began to speed off.
I had noticed late as a sweet smell hit me in the face.
Paulwuickly grabbed his nose and blocked the smell but before I could even copy him, my head dropped forward, smacking into the window.
I tried to say something, but I felt my eyelids turn heavy.
Last thing I felt was his weight falling against me.
Then — nothing.
________________________________________
"Urghhh" opening my eyes, I felt a sharp ray of light attack my vision instantly a deep pain assaulted my head like I had drank too much the night before.
I slowly pushed myself up, and looked around me.
I was in large room, filled to the brink with beds and bunk beds, most with someone sitting or sleeping on them, just from a quick glance I could tell their where atleast a few hundred people here.
Some people were just waking up like me, and some where already up, screaming and banging on what seemed like an entrance.
Rembering something important I looked around me quickly.
Thankfully my worry was useless. Sean was across from me, sprawled out on his be like a woody toy. His mouth hung open, a thin line of drool running down his chin.
"Bro," I called, my voice croaky.
He snorted awake, eyes slowly opening. "Mhuh?... Oh man.. I feel like shit.." he said whilst rubbing his head.
Taking my eyes off him I noticed more people around us starting to wake up.
There seemed to be a mass forming by the exit, some pounding on the steel doors.
One dude near the front was losing it completely.
"THIS IS ILLEGAL, NO MATTER WHO!MASS KIDNAPPING WILL BE FOUND OUT!" he yelled, voice cracking as he slammed his fists against the wall. "DONT THINK YOU'LL GET WAY WITH THIS".
Nobody answered him, but what he said did remind me about what happened before, me and Sean being drugged and taken here by force.
'I knew Sean would get us into some bullshit.'
I forced myself to my feet, legs still wobbly from the drugs.
I checked for Sean again. He was sitting up now, looking around, he seemed more clueless the worried.
Then he spotted me.
"You good bro?" he asked.
I rubbed my neck, feeling a faint pain on my right side.
"I'm good." Right now I just needed to watch, if we where kidnapped I wouldn't be the first victim.
Sean stood, stretching his arms out.
"Man, this some wild shit, what we do now?" he said.
"Let's just chill, we still don't know what those guys want."
Around us, the noise kept building, people shouting, crying and begging for someone to let them out. But there was still no response.
I scanned the crowd again. Different ages, different faces, all wearing the same green tracksuits with white numbers stamped on the chest and back.
I looked down at the number printed across my chest. Something about seeing it made me feel small, like I was back in middle school, lining up for free lunch.
Drip.
Drip.
Drip.
Drip.
I just need to be wary, everything will be fine.
I turned to Sean. He was watching me, he seemed serious for once. He didn't say it out loud, but i could tell he felt there was a problem here too.
I reached out and grabbed his shoulder.
"No matter what, we finish this together," I said, my voice steady even through all the sobs and screams.
"C'mon man, always." He smiled as he put his hand on my shoulder aswell.
*Bzzztt*
The speakers above crackled, snapping the moment in half.
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