We live by a code.
You break it, you bought it.
— Foke
All I wanted to do was get out of the mark's house. The now-dead mark's house. But I barely made it out the door before I collided with a mountain of a man who was there, waiting for me. He wrapped his arms around me and held me tight.
"It's aight, Hose. It's okay. It's over."
"Foke?"
"Wasn't s'posed to go down like that. But what's done is done. Chin up. You good. It's aight."
As we stood on the mark's front porch, a deep voice called out from inside the house.
"POWER."
"Yo, wassup with that, Hose?" Foke said. "You kill the power?"
"I... I... I disabled it."
"Where da box?"
"It's near the kitchen."
"Hey, Nono! She flipped the breakers! Look by the kitchen, yo!"
Then Foke's voice got softer, and he asked, "Find whatcha came fo'?"
"I... I got it."
"Aight then. You should prolly go, 'cause Nono gon' do his thing. Man's an artist, an' he gotta do it his way. But, yo, listen. Boogie don't work for me no mo'. Well, Boogie don't do nothin' anymo'. He left my crew a couple weeks back. Went freelancin', but we had eyes on him. Boog was comin' at you to send a message. Message received. He out."
The door closed behind us, with a whump. It was followed by the sound of... I don't know what. A grinder? The noise was too low, and too garbled to be a leaf blower, but it was bad.
"This ain' on you," Foke said. "Nothin' changes 'tween you an' me. We good. Go on home. Relax. Get yo' drink on."
"I'll do that."
"You got a code, Hose?"
"You mean, like, funny words, sir?"
"Wha? No. I mean, like a way to be. This here is a brothahood. You ain' a brotha, but you one of us, an we keep each other safe. No 'ceptions. We live by a code. You break it, you bought it. Boogie ain' out 'cause he went solo. He was still one of us. He out 'cause he broke da code. An' in a bit, he be nothin'. Faceless. Nameless. Leftovers of a nothin'. It's how we do."
How the hell did this happen?
The leftovers could have been me. And maybe it should've. I was just trying to rob a mark, not get him killed.
I got two people killed. Almost three, including me.
Was this what a near-death experience felt like?
I didn't like it.
Foke was still standing on the porch as I got in my car. I turned the key. The engine started, but I didn't know where to go. I couldn't go home. I couldn't let Claire see me like this. So shaken.
I took a final look back at the mess I'd made, slowly. Cautiously.
Because I was afraid.
I inhaled.
I exhaled.
And I left.
As I drove away, a voice in my head said, "Who are you?"
The voice I heard respond was my own.
It said, "I'm the mess."