I tail the Cadillac out of Old Town. We go south on Larrabee Street past the 2 by 2 to the other side of the road. The four horsemen wanted me to get in their car, but I took the Mustang. We pass under the rusted subway tracks, which I have never taken, and take a left near the north carter high school. I look around and it seems like your regular neighborhood. The houses look nice and cozy; the big windows make seem them inviting.

They don’t stop.

We go east on Blackhawk street. Crossing three or four streets of tall and narrow houses, I’m confused. Nothing about this community speaks of violence. There are plenty of people outside. Some are walking their dogs, and others taking a morning walk.

Then we reach the Hudsen Avenue. I start to see what they mean. The marshal field garden apartments and the Sedgwick condos make me claustrophobic.

Suddenly, houses disaster from sight, and rows and rows of closed boxes replace them. These condos have bars on the windows. I see that and I know things are real here. Every box has five floors and five windows.  Meaning, at least twenty families survive in every building. Multiply by an average of four and you get 80 people stuck inside a building the length of five cars. I bet the occupants are so crammed together that they can hear each other's farts. These apartments and condominiums definitely don’t look comfortable.

The Cadillac turns south, passing the only two houses in this modern nightmare of a neighborhood.

It’s like a small mart here. There is a cafe, a shop to buy regulars, and even a beauty salon. All mashed up together like peas and potatoes.

The Cadillac slows down and parks in front of the café. Biggie jumps out of the car and rushes inside the establishment. The others stand beside the car and wait for me. I cross the bus stand sign and park a little distance from them. They don’t talk to me when I get out. There are no people on the street. But I see the cafe owner looking at me through the dark-tinted window. He’s not amused.

“Follow us. If you dare,” Blake says as I approach them. He and the others follow Biggie’s footsteps into the café and I’m left wondering outside about the games they are playing. I look at my options and reach the conclusion that I’ll be fine as long as they don’t kill me instantly.

The cafe is nice though. The exteriors are dark, almost the color of coffee beans. I take another look around and follow after them.

The doorbell jingles and announces my entry. I don’t feel welcome. The interior is simple and cozy, unlike the exterior. The old guy stares at me as I walk through. The shopkeeper taking Biggie’s order looks at me and then ignores me. Part of me wants to tell him that we just had breakfast. I can still taste the food Marco cooked at my home. He ate it too! How is he hungry again? I don’t know if I can stop Nick from peddling drugs, but I definitely can’t stop this dude from eating every second of the day.

“Hello,” I greet the shopkeepers. Unsurprisingly, I’m ignored. Very nice. I’ll give them a two-star review once I get back. One star for the aesthetics and another because one star is the least you can give. I’m not a bad guy. I just have my preferences.
 
I leave Biggie be and follow the other three to the back of the café. There is a sitting area past the services counter. There are two guys in white tees and black bandanas sitting at a table. They are passionately discussing something. That is until I walk past them. They grow silent and stare at me as if I spoiled the latest episode of their favorite daily soap or something.

“What you looking at, fool? Are you lost or something?” One of them says.

I have the urge to tell him to fuck off, but I control it and walk away. Fuck off is a hard command to control. There is a chance the guy would have clapped his friend's ass after getting the suggestion. I keep following Blake and the others until I see them leave through the backdoor.

It’s interesting. It’s like I’m going into their gang's secret meeting place. It makes me excited. I follow them to the back of the building where a dozen men and women in white tees are hanging around. They are not doing anything in particular. I guess it’s a get-together.

The commotion dies with our entrance, at my entrance specifically. The horde of soldier bees separates from the wall and starts flying toward me at a cautious pace. It’s just an expression, but that’s what the gang members in white tees do.

I stop some distance from the group. Wisdom is in being cautious. They stare at me but keep quiet. No one acts rudely or tries to demean me. I thought they would at least test my courage, but no. Nothing. I’m honestly surprised. I wasn’t expecting them to behave so civil.

Blake and the others slap hands with the people. Every handshake follows a small greeting, which ends with a nod. Everything is very ritualistic and formal.

At last, a man with a crew cut locks hands with Blake. He’s dressed better than the rest, like a college student. Perhaps he is one.

“You are late.” The man announces.

It’s not a question and Blake doesn’t answer. What would he say? That they were cooking and cleaning for me? Is that something he can tell the members of his gang? He’ll lose all respect.

The man shakes his head in disappointment. He separates from the group and stops only when he’s in attacking distance from me. He wants to scare me, I guess. It doesn’t.   

“Your reputation precedes you, Adam. Nick had you made into some kind of freak with four hands and six eyes. You are too…”
“Normal?”
“Whit-e,” Lucas says with a grin, eliciting laughter from his homeboys. “You are too white to be playing games with us, schoolboy.”

“What do you want Lucas?”

He stops laughing when he hears the question. I can see it in his eyes. He’s wondering how I know his name and what else I know. However, confused or surprised he is, he doesn’t show. He doesn’t ask how and what I know. I’m sure he’ll ask Blake and the others later. For now, he remains indifferent.

“So you know where you are.” He says. Bass replaces the treble in his voice. Seriousness replaces laughter. “That’s good. I won’t have to waste my time then.”

“What do you want from me?” I ask again, but this time he’s ready.
“No,” Lucas points a finger at me. “You tell me. What do you want from me? You took the drugs from Nick. Which I totally understand. You took them because you could; that’s what people do. But then you returned the drugs without touching them. What are you trying to do?”

“I heard Nick was in trouble.”

“Because of you, bitch.” A voice erupts from the back.

Lucas raises a hand to stop the voices.

I ignore the man and say what I should. “You got the drugs back. Now let him go.”
Lucas looks around in surprise. “Did you all hear what this mother fucker said?”

“Yep,” A thin boy wearing a black bandana around his neck answers. “He wants his boyfriend back.”

The group erupts in laughter. Lucas is also laughing, but the smile suddenly leaves his face and he gets up to my face. “You are in my neighborhood, bitch. Here goes on what I say. You hear me, whitey?

I sigh. “You guys are quite irritating you know.”

“Get back,” I command him. “And tell me where is Nick?”
Lucas takes a couple of steps back and tells me the truth. “Nick’s home… doing math homework or something.”

It’s my time to be surprised. “What?” I look at the three musketeers one by one and find them smiling. Was I tricked? How is that possible?
“So you didn’t hang from the ceiling?” I hastily ask. If someone can really trick the questions then it changes everything. How will I ever believe anyone’s words? How will I use my power? But turns out, I panicked too early. It’s a false alarm.

“We hung him to show him what happens when you mess up. Asked him about you and let him go a little while later.” Lucas grins. “Did you really think we would hurt one of our own for a few dollars worth of weed or something?”

I don’t believe it. “Wouldn’t you?” I ask. Lucas answers as I expect from him.

“Yes, we would. But the boy brought the drugs back. He made a mistake and rectified it. That’s all that matters, schoolboy. He solved the problem.”

That’s good. Nick’s fine. That’s one burden off my shoulders. “Did Nick tell you about leaving the gang?” I ask.
“Yea, he did say something about that. Didn’t he?” Lucas addresses his friends. They chuckle like it’s the funniest joke they have heard in a while.

“You know what’s funnier?” Lucas says bobbing his head up and down. He does it to take initiative and show aggression. It’s psychological warfare at its lowest. I understand this stuff.

My sigh takes some steam out of Lucas. He knows I’m not afraid of him and it’s bugging him. I know because the bobbing stops.

“Nick did say something like that. But he also said he’s only saying it because you told him to. What does that mean? Why he gotta do what you asked him for?”
“It means I want him out of the gang.”
“I like this white boy,” Lucas tells his friends. “He has guts for sure. But Nick’s not going anywhere.” He says to me. “And neither are you.” Lucas raises a fist and the people behind him pull out their guns at me.

A smug smile grows on Lucas’s face. “Welcome to the south side, Nigger.” He says.

The guns do take some wind out of my sail. That’s for sure. But they are not enough to scare me.
“You can’t keep me here,” I tell him.
“You are a little far away from home, fool.” Someone shouts out from the crowd, bringing another bout of laughter from the crowd.
It makes me smile too. Lucas doesn’t like that.
“What are you laughing at?” He gets up at my face, all aggressive and pumped up.

But I’m not an easy chicken to season. He thinks he’s got me. He’s got nothing on me.

“All right, you have got me,” I say taking a step back. I raise both my hands up in the air to show I’m harmless. “Don’t shoot me, I surrender. I’ll answer all your questions. But first, let me show you a magic trick.” I hold my right thumb and index finger together. “At the count of three, I’m going to snap my finger and everyone expects you Lucas will fall asleep for ten minutes. Not only that, you will not remember anything that happened here when you wake up.”

“This trash thinks he’s Thanos or something man!”
“He’s crazier than you, brav.”
“Geez! And I thought we were nuts.”

I snap my fingers. It’s not loud. It’s not magical. But everyone behind Lucas drops to the ground like a bag of potatoes, asleep.

Lucas looks behind him in disbelief. “What the fuck just happened? What the fuck just happened!”
He shakes the people but none wakes up. “Blake? Marco? Benny? Wake up! What did you do? What did you do?”

Continues charm like this takes too much out of me. It’s a charm within a charm. Ten minutes is all I can do since there are too many people affected and I want them to temper their memories at that.

Lucas’s eyes fall on one of the guns lying on the ground. He jumps at it, thinking of killing me for sure. I stop him before he’s able to touch that thing.

“Calm down,” I command and Lucas stops behaving like he’s having a PTSD episode. He retracts his hand from the gun and stares at me in wonderment.
“How did you do this man? Are you a superhero or something?”

I ignore his question. I only have ten minutes so I get down to it. “Why did you make this gang Lucas? What’s your plan.”

“The plan is to get out of here. What else can it be? NLL is a set of brothers who don’t want to live this leased life. We don’t want the world. We just want to have control over our lives. We are all born here. This is our world. This is all we have lived and it’s not been a good life. We just want to see the other side. ”

Okay, so far so good. “What about the others?” I glance at the sleeping beauties around him before turning back to him. “Do they think the same? Or are they only with you for the drugs and the attention?”

“It’s all about the money, homie. That mullah is the drug.” He laughs and shakes his head. He finds it funny. “Money’s more addictive than any pharmaceutical anyone has ever tasted bro! Why do you think all these motherfuckers are rapping when they get the chance? It’s to get out of the hood! Nobody wants to rot on the streets! Everyone’s looking for a way out to the freedom lands.”
“Is there any way for all of you to stop dealing and fighting?”
“Look man,” Lucas stands up. He pats his pants while talking. “It’s easy to talk about change and revolution. But that road is a slipping slope to the cray-cray land. The truth is that there will always be drugs on the street. There will always be motherfuckers looking to make quick cash. You can take the people off the streets, but how are you gonna take the idea out of people? That’s the truth. That’s the hustle.” 

Lucas is right. Nobody can keep the drugs off the street. It’s impossible to change the idea that there’s an easy way to get rich.

I actually only wanted to keep my school drug-free at the start. Then I learned that Nick got in trouble and decided to help him out of it. I never cared whether he wants to get out or not. Then the troublemakers started hounding me and my ambitions grew with the scale of things. I made myself believe that I should do something more with my powers. One can say that I used Nick to get what I want. It has never been about doing what I should do with my powers, but about what I want to do. I guess I am losing control.

I look at the time and find that I’m right on the clock. The sleepers will be waking up in another minute. I have to leave before that happens.

Lucas is still chilling around. He’s calm as a kid on sleeping pills. I ask him, “Do you know where Nick lives?” I want to meet him once. I don’t know why, I think only he can tell me what I should do.
“Of course, I do,” Lucas says matter-of-factly. “What kind of a question is that?”

I let out a groan. My powers work, but they also make the charmed people so annoying sometimes. It’s like, the power breaks the vault everyone hides inside, bringing their true nature to the surface. It’s hard sometimes.

“Take me to him,” I say and Lucas agrees.

I follow him out of the café and then we take the Mustang away. Nick doesn’t live close. We go further southeast until we are at Seville. It’s the real home of the gang.

I park the car outside another boxy building. Lucas is about o get out when I stop him. I can’t keep the drugs off the streets, but I can still keep them out of my school. I tell Lucas to stop selling the stuff in my school and he agrees.
“Okay,” He says before we both get out of the car.

He tells me to follow him and I do. There are some boys sitting at the building stairs talking, and laughing. They are teenagers of all ages. One of them seems to be ten. They chase Lucas when they see him, asking him for a hit.

Lucas denies it without a hitch. “Get your ass back home and study. Do you want to be on the streets all your life nigger? I will call your mamas and tell them to lock you inside if I see you here when I come back. You all hear me?”

The kids hear the threat and scatter onto the road like leaves picked up by the wind.

“Are they on drugs?” I ask when we get to the stairs.
“Every here is on drugs, fool. What are you talking about?” Lucas says nonchalantly as if it’s no big deal.
“But they are kids!” It blows my mind. “They aren’t even proper adults yet!”
“You are the only kid here. This is 1300 bitch. Here mothers suckle their kids on stuff to stop them from crying at night. Keep your white thoughts out of here. This is no place for your worries.”

I stop on the stairs. His words stick in my conscience like bad sores. I don’t even understand the place and I want to change them. Is it possible? Is it necessary?

“Are you coming or what?” Lucas says, frowning.
I take a deep breath; push the thoughts to the back of my mind and start climbing after him.

We go straight to the second floor. There are no windows at the ends of the corridors to let in natural light. Buzzing light bulbs are the only source of light here. Once they expire, darkness will eat the box alive. I look around at the dark and dimly lit corridors. I guess it already has.

Lucas knocks at the door of the 289th family stuck inside this life.

“Who is it?” An old woman asks from the other side of the door.

I don’t hear her acting up to open the door. The behavior actually says more than needs telling.

“It’s me,” Lucas says.  

I wait for the door to open, but that’s not what happens.

“I told you not to come back again.” The woman screams out from the other side of the door. “He’s not going to do the things for you anymore! You can’t do this to us. Not him, too! Lord knows his father would have straightened you out. He might not be around, but he has me. You won’t get him while I’m here devil!”

Lucas has had enough of it. “Hey, Nick! Open the door. I don’t have time for this shit. Someone wants to talk to you.”
“I’m coming, just wait.” Nick’s voice comes from the other side right before the woman screams again.
“No!” She bawls. “Don’t you dare open the door! This is the devil’s path, son. He’s the devil. Don’t fall for his sinful sweet tongue! You will die. He’ll get you killed!”

“Let me go!” Nick’s voice rises a few decibels. “I don’t want to stay in this goddamn coffin! You can die here if you want. But I’m getting out of here. You hear me! I’m going! So let me go!”

Someone falls. Something breaks. The sound is simply another fracture on an already damaged relationship. It breaks my heart a little. How could someone hurt their mother? I find the thought impossible to conceive let alone imagine.

“Save him, my lord! Please save him! Show him the path. Take him in your hands and forgive him for his sins.” The woman repeats over and over again. She prays for Nick even though he pushed her away.
 
My heart grows cold when I hear the lady crying softly. This won’t do. The fire in my chest starts burning again. This won’t do. Nick's mother is definitely not alone in this prison. Wanting to save their sons and daughter but are unable to go against the flow. Perhaps, I should start with them. It would work in a white neighborhood where the parents put food on the table, but here the children have their own sources. That’s the problem though. It’s drugs, if it’s not drugs then it's theft. I can only imagine what the Chicago police threat map says about the neighborhood.

The door unlocks. The chain rattles as it’s pulled out of its socket, a grinder on Nick’s mother’s heart. The door opens. Nick walks out of the home and slaps hands with Lucas with a smile, which falls off his face when he finds me standing behind Lucas.

“What is he doing here?” Nick asks Lucas.

I see horror flash in his eyes. He’s scared of me. He should be.
His mother hears the door open and jumps out after him. She goes directly toward Lucas this time, grabs his t-shirt, and starts pulling him away from his son.

“Don’t you talk to my son, you demon! You are going to get him killed like everyone else. I don’t want to see you here! Do you hear me? Get out of here! GET OUT!”

My command is still working on Lucas so he stays calm despite the harassment. He’s no match for the old lady and gets pulled away from us, leaving me and Nick standing alone in front of his house. Which is just right.

“Not going to call me inside?” I ask him with a smile.
Nick vigilantly takes a step back. “What do you want?”
“Did you tell Lucas you don’t want to leave the gang?”
“Yea. So?” He steps inside the house.

I want to punch him in the face. I push the anger down and ask him, “Just help me understand something. Why do you want to be a dealer so bad? What good does it do to you? Why not just find a job? Work hard for a living. You can have a good life if you can just get your head straight. It’ll be slow, but it’ll be rewarding as hell at the end. So why not do that?”

“Have you ever killed anyone before?” Nick asks soberly. “Have you held a gun in your hand and pointed it at someone’s head? Have you had the power to decide someone’s life and death?”

A face flashes through my mind. Goosebumps erupt over my arms. So that’s how it is.
“It’s not fun.” He’s fallen too deep into the abyss. “You lose interest in it soon after.” His mother is not wrong. “And then the memories eat away at your heart.” He’s like me in a sense. Only he’ll never see the light at the end of the tunnel. He’ll never make it out of the darkness. That is unless someone helps him. That is unless someone shows him the right path.

“What are the fuck are you talking about nigger?” Nick mumbles. “Talking like you understand me?” His voice grows louder. “You haven’t lived my life!” He screams. “What are you talking about? I can only do what I can do man. Just go away. Live your white life with your white friends. Get yourself a white job and a white wife. Shit man! We both had our lives laid out in front of us at birth. This,” he says pointing around at the dark corridors.  “-Is my life. I’m going to live it the way I want to live. And neither my god-fearing mother nor do you have the right to take that from me! Do you hear me?”

He’s right. I don’t have any right to force him to do anything, even if I can. It’s his life and he can do whatever he wants to do with it. Besides, it wouldn’t work even if I force him to give up his life of a dealer. That won’t change anything. It will only make him miserable. Perhaps make him a killer.

 “So that’s how it is huh?”
“Yea, man. That’s how it is.”
“All right,” I exhale the sickness that has been growing inside me ever since I stepped into this neighborhood. I have been going about this whole thing the wrong way. These people are too used to taking the easier option. “You live your life the way you want to live. You want to sell drugs, get high, and become a gang banger. Fine! I wanted to help you get a job so you won’t need to work for these leeches, but I guess you are also a leech.”

“Here,” I throw the car keys at him. He catches them and stares at me confused. “I took your car for a day and now I’m returning it back to you. You see, I’m not a thief. I’m leaving now, but I’ll be back soon. You bet that.”

Nobody will help them because they themselves don’t think they need help. But that’s the thing about shortcuts. They are easier to find but harder to walk than the normal path. And it’s easier to get lost on the way. Nick’s lost. And so is everyone else around here. They are all lost sheep led astray by the wolf. To free the herd I need to find the wolf.