Chicago

CHAPTER NINE

   The next morning, Saint rushed his way to the auto shop to start training with Crispin. He was excited that he had a potential job—it was his first step towards bettering himself. He didn't mention it to his guardians just yet. He didn't want to get them excited for him and it ended up not working out. Saint was going to lay low, learn and grow before putting his business out there.

"Crispin?" Saint entered the office to see Crispin eyeing a bunch of paperwork. He looked stressed. Saint hesitated to approach him.

"What's up, man?" Saint said lightly.

"They want to close me down," Crispin shook his head as he put the paperwork down. He had recently got a letter in the mail about unpaid rent and utility bills. They were threatening to close him down in the next few months if he didn't start making some sort of payments.

Crispin massaged the bridge of his nose, "this shop the only thing keeping my family afloat right now."

"No offense, but have you seen this place?" Saint eyed the dusty, old office that looked like it hasn't had a makeover since the 80's. On top of that, it didn't seem like there was much business. Crispin was in his office 97% of the time and Saint could tell by the occupational things around him. Several cups of coffee, open crossword books and multiple boxes of cigars, his first one almost finished.

"What's wrong with it?"

Saint looked at him astonished, "my nigga this shit is falling apart. Look at outside, man. You got broken gas pumps and busted up machines. I wouldn't drive my car in here even if my tires were flatter than pancakes. It's bad for business, man."

"Well you got money to fix this shit up? I can barely pay my bills, you know how much it'll cost to get new pump machines and equipment?"

"Got to spend money to make money. Instead of investing in them cigars why not invest in your shop?"

Crispin sighed because he knew the youngling was right. Crispin had let this place go and he couldn't deny it anymore. He needed a complete makeover and a completely new staff. Saint was a good start but he had to make even bigger moves.

"I need some sort of income. Where I'm gon' get the money?"

"Take out a loan from the bank? Take some money out the shop?" Saint suggested.

"I can't afford to take from the shop and the bank will laugh in my face with all this debt I'm in. They might as well just shut a nigga down." Crispin was three seconds from giving up. Every road he went down, there was a dead end. He was beginning to think it was just time to let the shop go.
Saint wasn't about to let it go, though. This was probably his one and only chance to get a job since no other place was hiring him quick enough.

"What if I got the money for you?"

Crispin looked at Saint like he was mad. Crispin figured what his "method" of income was and he wasn't about to encourage it. It was easy to slip back into the fast-cash business of drug dealing and it was just as easy to land back in jail.

"You about to go hustle on the streets? Wow, thought you was tryna' better yourself?"

Saint shook his head, "I wasn't talking about that. I swear to god I'm done with all that shit. I meant, hold a fundraiser or some shit. It's summer time and we could hold a neighborhood party. You and your family can hold a garage sale, I can encourage mine to do the same. Raise some money and get started on this place."

"What about my bills, man?" Crispin waved the papers in the air.

"Man, fuck that. You can pay those later...you gon' get way more money if you restart your business than if you pay off your bills."