A Slum Love Crime. (A$AP Rocky Story)

Part Trentaquattro

Three days later, I was officially Danny’s legal responsibility. He was my guardian. This made me feel syrupy inside, but also a little guilty. Danny was like my dad now. So would that be ignoring the fact that Mango is my father? I felt like there was a little person inside of me, a father feeling sorrow for not being there for his daughter.

But of course, I disregarded the little person. If Mango wanted to be there for me, he could’ve done that a long time ago.

Throughout the course of the day, I did nothing but think. That’s the only thing all of us have been able to do for a while. I wished that Guyana’s schools didn’t go on vacation so early—maybe then I could be distracting myself with school. Nicole seemed to feel the same way, because she was always finding ways to occupy herself. Sometimes she showed me her drawings, other times she didn’t.

Seeing Nicole making herself so busy all the time made me feel just a tad bit useless. I had no hobby. I felt like an unnecessary fourth wheel to the house.

“Tre, come here.” Danny called to me. I left my bed and jogged toward his office, which really was just a guest room on his division of the house transformed into an office. The room had a thick, beige carpeting (Danny didn’t allow anyone in there with their shoes on), two nice windows, a desk with scattered papers and documents, a computer, and two telephones. I didn’t know what Danny’s job was, but I figured all this equipment was to help him track Mango and discover all the information that he gives us.

“Take that envelope right there.” he said. I picked up a manila envelope and hesitantly pulled out the papers inside. I sat down on the other chair and began to sift through the papers.

The envelope to begin with had a musty smell. It smelled like burnt rice. I held my nose and put the envelope back on Danny’s desk. The papers had a lot of text, making me not want to even skim through them. Fortunately, I found one paper that had bold text and a picture on it. It seemed to be a copy of a newspaper article.

The headlines were: “New York City Judges Are Now Confused by Messiness of Rakim Mayers’ Trial.”

Reading the headline, I was confused, too.

“What’s this all about?” I asked Danny, showing the paper to him. He only bothered to glance at the paper briefly before continuing to type and click on his computer.

“Mango’s men made a really strong case, Tre,” Danny started, “but it isn’t the truth. Based on the case that the mob is making, their judge is starting to get confused. Both stories are believable, but only one is the truth. The judge just doesn’t know which one.”

I stayed silent. I didn’t know whether I should be happy or disappointed.

“That’s where you come in.” Danny said, as if reading my blank expression without even looking at me. I didn’t speak, since he obviously was going to continue. He did pause for a long while though, so I took the opportunity to attempt to figure out his statement. Where do I come in? And how?

“You and I both know that Mango’s men are nothing but ghetto goons. They aren’t smart. So they clearly didn’t come up with their alibi all on their own.” Danny said.

“But Mango did.” I jumped in.

“Exactly,” he nodded. “They are telling a lie, so they need someone like Mango to mold their story into something irresistibly believable. That’s not an easy job. Now look at our situation—the boys are telling the truth. But they’re the defendants, so who really wants to believe them?”

“No one.” I said lowly. It was the truth—Danny didn’t even have to tell me.

“Right. You’re coming along well. So Tre, this is where you come in. It’s easy for Rakim and the boys to make the judge believe them because they’re telling the truth. All they need is someone to help their truth sound real. But they don’t have Mango. You know who they do have, though?”

“You?”

Danny chuckled softly. “No, you.”

Neither of us spoke; we were both letting Danny’s words settle in the air. I understood completely, but didn’t understand all at once.

“So you’re saying that I have to find a way to help the boys’ case by helping them get their truth across?” I asked.

“No, not necessarily. None of us has to do that.”

“So who will?”

“The lawyer that I hired for them.”

“So what is it that you’re saying I have to do?”

“I’m saying that you have to manipulate the fact that you’re Mango’s daughter, and make this situation turn out in your favor.” Danny said. I thought back to how I felt when Izzy aborted her child, and how I thought that everything turned out in my favor.

“A big plus in a trial like this would to have real evidence in the defendant’s favor. So what you have to do, Tre, is very easy. Just find some information about Mango being a wanted drug dealer and having those goons lie for him. The easiest way to do that is a confession. We need a confession from him, Tre. And you’re going to get it. You’re going to meet your father.”

Danny’s words spilled out of his mouth too quickly, making me more nervous than I was when he told me that it was ‘my turn’. The only thing I felt when he finished talking was…no.

“I can’t do it.” I muttered. “I’m not going to meet him.”

“Tremaine, you can’t keep running away from him!”

“Yes I can! I’ve been doing a damn good job so far. Why stop now?”

Danny sighed. “Why can’t Dom do it? He’s been in the mob longer than I have. He’s smarter than I am.”

“Because he was supposed to go with the rest of the guys when the police came. Luckily, as I saw them approaching the house, I hid with Nicole. When Dom woke up from his nap, I warned him to quickly hide with us. I couldn’t save the rest of the guys. Dom can’t risk being caught.” Danny explained, calmer than he was a few seconds ago.

“Well what about you, Danny? Everyone knows you to be the best of the best, better than Mango. I know how much power you have. You probably have three times as many goons as Mango, and more experienced ones too. You can get them to do it. Maybe you can even do it yourself.” I proposed desperately. Danny just shook his head.

“You don’t get it, Tremaine,” he said softly. “I’ve sinned so much in my life. I should probably be dead by now. Thankfully, I managed to live after a coma. I don’t want to try God anymore. I’m on the road to be sin-free. I don’t want to get more involved in this than I need to be. After all of this is over, I’m ready to settle down with my life.”

Now I could fathom exactly where Danny was coming from. There was no arguing with him anymore. I really was the only one left. If I wanted the boys back, I had to get them back my damn self. If that means confronting my father face-to-face, then so be it.

Here goes nothing.