Alfonzo (13 page)

Samson was skeptical, “
Yo
, I appreciate it man but I can’t accept it.”

“Why not?
The government got you on
lockdown;
this is your last year.” Alfonzo put a fist to his chest, “
On my word, you owe me nothing…
nada…
”

“Why you want to do this…for me?”

Alfonzo was blunt, “Because
hombre our people get few breaks in life and I want to even the fucking playing field,
tú
sabe
?”

Samson caved. He wanted his degree. He had ambitions to get a job down on Wall Street and you know what? The dude is raking in stacks at Merrill Lynch. He is also the same guy who made Alfonzo a sizable return in the stock market. There are times when he thinks about the trade-off and smirks. Paying a year of tuition for Samson was one of the best investments he made.

The college experience
assisted in
broaden
ing
his horizons, he
met many diverse people and
learned a lot about himself.
For starters, to be respectable he needed to open a legitimate business. The illegal drug trade, although lucrative was also a deadly one. The retirement package often consisted of a bullet and a grave from a ruthless competitor.
He opened a real estate investment company, a legitimate company with
five employees uptown. He paid taxes, the whole bit and provided jobs to people in the neighborhood searching for opportunity.
People willing to learn and earn.

His legitimate
real estate ventures far exceeded profits from any illegal
business and with a
combination of stock
s
and real estate
investments he was becoming a wealthy young man. The drug business had become second tier. His desire to get out and how to do it was the reason he wanted to talk to uncle.
Th
is is
why
he’
d
been so damn conflicted. He sought a way to transition from the old Alfonzo to a newer version but the old continued its hold. Each time he took a step forward the life jerked him
backward.

Damn Tio…man I fucking miss you!

The girl Selange was on his mind
, a lot
lately
.
He worried about her being way out there on Long Island with her flighty friend Shanda as a roommate. He offered her to stay
longer
at his place, no strings attached but she refused
anxious to try to get on with her life
.
Despite her bravado he knew it was going to be difficult moving forward after what happened. He called her almost every day to make sure she was okay. She broke down on the
phone las
t night and his heart collapsed from the weight of her pain.

The Mercedes
slowed to a halt at the
red light
and he instinctively checked the car on his right
.
The driver of the old black Chevy stared straight ahead.
Red changed to green and the driver pulled ahead and Alfonzo turned left on ninety-second street west to
third avenue
. He wanted to update the family on the police investigation before going home. There was a ten thousand dollar reward offered by the police
, a paltry sum for two lives. O
n the street he placed an even higher bounty of
one million
for anyone who came forward with credible information about the killer.

Minutes later he found an empty parking space not far from his
mom’s brownstone.
He
sat
in the car
for a minute
looking around the quiet street. He decided to call
Selange.
She answered on the third ring and he grinned, “
Hola
.”

“Hello Alfonzo.
”
.

“How
did your day go, chica
?”

“
It’s
getting better.”

“
Bueno
, but you know you can’t stay sequestered forever, you need to start going out or you’re not living.”

“I’m not ready.”

“Tomorrow I’m coming over. No argument.”

She breathed out, “Okay, whatever.”

“
Hey
, chica
?”

“Yes?”

“Make sure you lock all your doors and windows before going to bed.”

“I will. It’s pretty safe here. There’s a neighborhood patrol and Detective Johnson stops in
occasion
ly
.”

None of this satisfied him but he chose to end the conversation on a positive note, “I’ll see you tomorrow,
buenos
noche
.”

“Good-night Alfonzo…and thanks for calling.”

He hung up then exited the vehicle. He crossed the street and
s
uddenly recognized the
black Chevy
parking
not far away.

C
oincidence
,
maybe not!

S
enses heightened
,
Alfonzo
strolled casually down the block
listening for the man
.
An oncoming couple passed laughing then they crossed the
wide
street. Their voices drifted away and he continued on discreetly reaching for the blade secreted in his
pocket. The last gift he received from Uncle Al
; this
beautiful silver engraved retractable bowie knife.

On this warm summer night the
block boasted very
little
activity.
In the distance
, he saw
a woman
entering
the Fernandez home
. A
group of youngsters walk
ed
toward the avenue and a car pass
ed o
n his left.
Footsteps approached from the rear and he readied the blade in his
hand
as
the
steps
quickened
.
Alfonzo turned catching the man by surprise. The man held a gun pointed at the back of Alfonzo’s head which he deflected
before he
gripped the man’s wrist in a vice
. On the forearm he saw the Chinese symbol for death inked there. He
raise
the gun hand
sk
yward and used the
blade to carve
through
the man’s flesh
until
it
made
contact with
bone.
The man howled in agony then quieted as the gun misfired shattering a car window
and setting off the alarm.
Alfonzo
attempted to dislodge the gun again and met a powerful
head-butt
which
caused him to stumble and lose momentum.

The attacker
took the opportunity to
fire
the weapon and a bullet grazed
Alfonzo’s shoulder.
Completely focused on the man and his movements Alfonzo twisted the wrist swirling the man’s entire body around in the opposite direction, placed a kick to the gunman’s leg bringing him to his knees then applied such force to the wrist it cracked loudly and the gun slipped from the man’s fingers to clang against the pavement. Another blow to the man’s spine sent him face-down on the ground knocking loose several teeth. Blood poured from Alfonzo’s shoulder wound like spilled paint as it
trailed down the front of his shirt but he found the sticky warmth comforting in murderous rage.
He bent low and li
fted the man by his collar intent on slashing his filthy throat. In this short space of time his assailant gathered his wits and reached backward to grab Alfonzo’s legs sending him
careening backward on the
pavement
and the knife flying from his hand.
His head hit the cement and the pain slapped his entire body
. The impact left him stunned
;
it hurt
badly
. The man was over him
now
punchin
g and
punching until the hits failed to inflict pain.

Alfonzo’s
eyes fluttered closed then swiftly reopened with determination. He kneed the man in the groin, grabbed one shoulder and thrust him aside then struggled to his feet
.
However, his assailant refused to go down and rushed Alfonzo mid
-
center
into
a parked car. They scuffled for dominance
despite their injuries and were unrelenting.
Alfonzo’s reflexes were slower due to the head injury and he recognized his body’s lack of coordination
,
but in a
deadly street
fight there’s no reprieve. Cognizant of his disadvantage
,
Alfonzo
acted swiftly by
sidestepp
ing away from the car, throwing a kidney shot
to the man’s side,
and then
followed
up
with two hard thrust
s
to the
man’s
solar plexus
. He then put all of his strength into a
lateral
punch
right to the goddamn man’s neck.
The force and location of the blows crumpled
the
assailant
bringing the fight to an end.

Alfonzo
pant hard and looked around for his blade. He
spot
the
customized knife lying
two feet away
on the sidewalk and rushed to retrieve it
.
He reached it
,
then
suddenly
his body
jerked. He twist under the sting of a bullet and realized his mistake.
The
projectile tore
through
his flank
and
blue
eyes
turned to
rest on the
gun
man
.
H
e cursed himself.
Street fighting 101 never turn your back on anybody unless you’re sure they’re dead or unconscious. ‘
I fucked-up! I let my guard down.’

Excruciating pain crippled him
, his knees buckled
and he hit the ground bleeding profusely.
The man crept closer and hovered above him brandishing the gun, “
Fucking punk
!
”
He took careful aim at Alfonzo’s head
but
right
before he
squeeze
d
the trigger
Alfonzo scissor-kicked, capturing the man’s legs while rolling out
of harm’s way.
The fast action sent
the man
off balance and he crashed against the cement slamming his trigger arm. The weapon misfired again and it spun across the ground then landed
several feet away.
Alfonzo’s fingers gripped the handle of the monogrammed knife then drove it into the man’s trunk. The effort caused blood to bubble from his
wound and he slumped down on the ground pulling the blade free with the last of his strength. The assailant clasped both hands over his stomach to stop the bleeding then backed away unsteadily. He slipped in blood and fell on his ass then struggled up again as voices began shouting. Windows opened
. Too many
people
were watching. Goddamn potential w
itnesses. He lowered his head in the darkness to flee just as Alfonzo stumbled to his feet, grabbing hold of a low wrought iron gate for support.

Nosy p
eople were coming.
Th
e kid hurt him pretty bad.

The man made it to his car and sped away leaving Alfonzo bleeding and
wobbling
toward
his mother’s
brownstone.
Alfonzo
experienced
labored
breathing
and
his grip loosened. He slid to the ground
. His
strength
had swiftly
dissipated and he began to feel light headed.
Someone
yelled
his name as he
slumped to the hard
smooth cement
trying to remain awake. His vision blurred and he found it impossible to focus. His body went limp and he lay there unmoving
drift
ing
in and out of consciousness.