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Street Boys
Vocal's Just a Minute Challenge
Ouch, that burns!
Drop it, man. That's hot.
Nice. Now look what you've made me do. I got coffee all over myself.
Course it burns, you dumb ass. It's coffee.
I don't need caffeine right now anyway.
They got mugs wherever we land. Leave it.
Gotta pack.
You best get moving. Whatever's not packed don't matter none.
My red shirt. I need it. Just lemme just grab it off the floor. Yeah, that's it. Beneath the window.
Leave it. He's coming.
What time's it? Social worker lady said he'd be here round noon. I still got time to grab my shit and get the hell outta dodge, man.
Ain't got time for this. Half-past already. He's probably turning onto Park. Three turns left, man. A minute, yeah, like, a minute at most. Move your ass.
Ain't letting that crazy mo-fo anywhere near me, man. No way.
Feel ya, bro, but first you got to move.
"You hear me, social worker lady? I'm out!" Long gone. No idea where I'm going. But you can't make me do nothing I don't want to! I got rights. "You ain't putting me with that man. He got issues."
No, she don't hear you. You got to go. He ain't pulled up yet. But he's just round the corner now. You got seconds, bro. You gots to move it.
"Stop yelling at me, Damon!" Now, look what you made me do. I'm yelling at myself and shit. Like you can hear me. "Why you got me talking to myself, man?" See. Nothing. Crickets. You left. Fine. White walls and nothing but time. Stupid neighbor cat and everybody staring at me like I'm losing it. See here? Your weed's on the window sill, but that's it. No other signs. Like you were never even here. A ghost! Now you're nowhere. Except in my head. "Freeloader."
Can't help being dead, cuz. Now, if you don't move, you're dead too.
We don't know you're dead, bro. You could be hold up somewhere.
Sure you know. You just can't face it yet.
Stop talking. According to you, we don't have time for this.
That's great man. But you're right about one thing. You gotta get out of there. Now!
What we both know is Tré—Mr. Stanford Rocksburg, III—he's gonna hunt me down like a dog in the street. He'll make me go with him. But I ain't going anywhere. Not until I find out what happened to you, Dae. Ain't right. Ain't nobody even looking.
He's coming. Right now! Hide. Hide!
Shit! He knows where I'm at. Tré. Been here before. Here's his hunting grounds. Boys like us who ain't got ties. He'll find me. Room at the back. Down the long squeaky hall. He knows where I been. Where you been, too. Dude'll look here first.
Get to the shed. Do it now.
I'm out. Two steps at a time. Tripping over a log. No, stupid cat. Don't you meow at me, mister. Turn the handle. Unlocked. Made it. Creaky door's gonna get me shot though. Ducking, low. Like you taught me.
Quiet, man. He'll hear you.
Long black car out front, that's his. FBI looking, MF. I see it from here. I gotta get far from here. Gets his hands on me, ain't nobody taking my side.
He'll see you. Stop moving.
I tuck myself into a ball. Push in, behind the fold-up tables, and in, behind the stacking chairs. Quiet now.
She's letting him inside. He's got papers. You seeing this? Dude just said he owns you. Like, owns your ass, legal like. Adopted you or some shit. Don't you dare make a sound. Oh, man. This is worse than we thought.
You gotta give me something. Work with me. It was him that killed you, right? I saw how he was, with you, with them other boys. Before I come here for good. When Ma was low. Saw him, Dae. Saw him, pushing you to sell just like he made her do too. Told you I didn't see nothing, back then, but Dae, I saw what he done.
Don't worry about me. Stay quiet. He'll hear you. Stay low.
What's happening now?
He says he's seeing a shattered mug - still warm. Ain't buying old lady Whitfield's crap. Knows you're close. You gotta bolt. I'm begging you. Can't let him find you. Can't bring him back here.
My foot catches on a bag tucked under the stacked chairs. Kind of pull the loop toward me with my shoe's toe. I stop, go slowly, hoping the bag don't drop and thud loud on the ground. I pull the bag into my chest, super quiet. Pull the zipper. Cat don't even turn to look.
Don't do it, man. Don't look. Let me explain.
I need to know.
Come on man. We're brothers.
Dae—What is this? Where'd it come from?
You know where.
No, man, I don't. Tell me. I need you to tell me. Please, Damon. Tell me you didn't. You wouldn't. You didn't? Nah, man. Talk to me.
Ain't have a choice, man. We can't all be you. I done it for you. Sold what I could. Kept it, all of it, long as I could. But he caught me, bro, caught me. Said I was stealing from him. I was gonna get you to college. You know how smart you are! Smarter than all of us. I wanted to see you graduate, man. I did it for you. You have to believe me.
If the cops can trace this money, maybe, maybe I won't have to go with him. Maybe they can follow it. All the way to you.
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Copyright © 05/01/2024 by Christy Munson. All rights reserved.
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Author's note: This fiction was written for Vocal's Just a Minute Challenge.
About the Creator
Christy Munson
My words expose what I find real and worth exploring.
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Comments (4)
As always, I'm a little confused 😅 Were there two people or was Damon talking to himself?
There's so much moral and emotional complexity here, brilliantly done.
Amazing challenge entry, Christy! Loved the interplay between them and the sorta hopeful ending.
Pretty twisty! A very intense minute!