The Start Of A Good Thing (Book 1)

Chapter 34

On Wednesday night Trevor was sitting in the front room with Desoto, struggling to work on his entrée picture for New York University. He sat up straight on the couch biting his pencil. Few things angered him more than messing up on a design he put time and effort in.

            Trevor snatched the page that held his contorted artwork and balled it up fiercely. He threw the paper across the room, almost hitting his cousin in the process of releasing fury. Baby-D dodged the paper ball like it was a bullet and tossed Trevor an uneasy look.

            “Damn nigga… You Aight?” She asked, coming over to the couch.

            “Naw cuz. I can’t figure out what I wanna draw!” Trevor exclaimed. Baby-D took a sip from her cup and placed it on the table in front of them.

            “Well what you been drawin’?” She wondered. Her cousin took a deep breath and handed her a sketchbook full of incomplete pictures. Some were portraits of his mother while others were of his friends, family, and India. Baby-D flipped through the many pages of art and was noticeably impressed.

            “All these look good to me,” She stated. “You just gotta finish em and you could send off anyone…” Baby-D stopped talking when she stumbled upon a portrait of herself. She grinned and brought the picture closer to her eyes. “Damn, I don’t look this good in real life. Yo Pyro you need to use this one.” Trevor shook his head as his cousin continued to go through the sketchbook. She turned to him, showing a picture of his dog, Desoto. “Aww, it look just like em.” She joked. Desoto raised his head, sensing they were talking about him.

            “Man D, it’s not really the pic’s as much as it is I don’t know what I really wanna draw,” he explained, leaning back in the couch. “I got a million and one ideas and can’t pick one.”

            Baby-D glanced through the sketches one last time, noticing that a vast majority of them were of his Mother. “From the looks of things, I think you really wanna do yo mama’.”

            “Yea, I do. But I can’t get it right.” He confessed. “Every time I’m almost done with the pic I screw it up. Either the eyes aren’t right, or the nose, the mouth. It’s always something.”

            With no real help to offer, Baby-D placed the book on the table by her drink. “You know I don’t nothin’ bout drawin’, but I think if you keep workin’ on it, then the perfect picture gon’ come.”

            Trevor remained quiet for a moment, thinking about what his cousin said. It made sense. “I don’t know man,” he shrugged, getting up from his seat. “I’ll see what’s up.” Desoto got off the floor and trailed behind his master to the door.

            “Where you goin’?” Baby-D asked, picking her drink back up. She propped her feet on the table and turned on the TV.

            “I need some air,” Trevor replied, leaving the apartment.

            He jumped down the steps with Desoto and headed up the sidewalk. Trevor had no real destination in mind; he was going wherever his feet led him. He made his way all the way up Broad Street. There weren’t many people around at this late hour, which was exactly how he liked it.

            Trevor went to a corner store to get him a drink and some candy. He told Desoto to wait outside as he entered the store. The clerk behind the counter watched his only customer cautiously. Trevor picked a snickers bar from the self and a bottle of soda from the cooler and brought it to the front. The clerk rang him up without speaking, ready for him to leave the store.

            Desoto jerked up when his master came back outside and went to his side at once. Trevor ripped open his candy bar and ate half, giving the rest to his dog. The two walked farther up the sidewalk where they suddenly halted.

            On the brick wall in an alley stood a picture forged by spray paint. It instantly caught Trevor’s eye. He staggered over to it, almost lost in a daze. The designs and detail that lie before him were better than anything he’s ever seen. Trevor studied the graffiti, lifting his hand and feeling the bricks it covered. Although the actual picture was nothing more than random colors and shapes crammed into an abstract form, it spoke it Trevor.

            He broke out of his chain of thought after he heard Desoto growling. Trevor turned around and spotted something that made his heart miss a beat. Zone and Spade were standing in the alley staring straight at him. Apparently the two had followed him, which he hadn’t noticed. Trevor clenched his teeth, angry at his self for not being more cautious.

            What up, What up, What up dog?” Zone grinned, coming further into the alley. “Man I been waitin’ for this.” Desoto leaned into a striking stance, baring his teeth. Trevor had nothing to say, there were no amount of words that could prevent what he knew was going to happen. During his rush to leave the apartment, he left his weapon in his room on the nightstand, big mistake.

            “You dead cuz,” Spade muttered, pulling a silver handgun from his sagging jeans. Trevor froze as he stared down the pitch-black barrel of the 40-caliber pistol. About a year earlier, he wouldn’t have cared to go out like this, but now it was different. He closed his eyes, going back to his roots. In the mist of his mind he began to say a prayer, when a gunshot blared into the sky.

            Trevor’s eyes sprung open and he saw Desoto with his jaws locked on Spade’s wrist. At that second he knew he had to act. He ran at Zone seeing him reach in his pants. Before Zone could get his revolver out, Trevor struck him across the face. He snatched a handful of Zone’s shirt and shoved him violently into the brick wall. He lifted his fist to punch his enemy again, but heard another gunshot, followed by the helpless cries of a dying dog.

            Knowing that Desoto had been shot, Trevor released Zone at once and sprang out of the ally in a full on sprint. Spade pushed Desoto’s feeble body off him and jumped on his feet. He glanced to his right, seeing Zone aim his gun at the center of Trevor’s back. With his eyes focused on his fleeing target, Zone squeezed the trigger.

            Trevor’s running was cut short by a bullet tearing through the flesh on the side of his upper back. His body spun 180 degrees, being jerked around by the force of the gunshot. Another two rounds sunk into his torso, one shattering his ribcage while the other burned a hole through his liver. The last round fired from Zone’s revolver collided with Trevor’s middle thigh, eating away at the body tissue in its path.

            By the time Zone stopped shooting, Trevor was in the middle of the street lying on the ground. Spade tapped Zone in the arm. “Aye we gotta get outta here!” he exclaimed. Zone nodded, and the two made a run for it.

            Trevor remained on the concrete road, bleeding dry. His lungs inhaled and exhaled slowly, causing a burning sensation to breeze through his body with every breath. As blood continued to gush out of his open wounds, Trevor was unaware of Desoto who dragged itself to his master.

            The dog’s hind legs had gone limp from the single bullet that broke its spine, rupturing several organs while doing so. Desoto’s jaw leaked a mixture of drool and thick red liquid. It dragged itself to Trevor’s side and dropped to the grounded.

            By now, Trevor had passed out. The rapid blood loss proved too much for him, and his brain put the body to sleep. Next to Trevor’s side, Desoto had completed his final task and breathed one last time. The corpse of the animal grew pale as it lied on its dying master’s arm in the middle of an empty road.