Page 40 of Queenpin
There’s a loud bang a thud that makes me shiver. “I know that he’s here! Where is that asshole?” The man shouts again.
My father screams and I can hear him crying. “You shot her!”
Did the man shoot my mother? Holy hell. I want to run out from my hiding place but at the same time, I know I’m safe here. Oh my god. What if my mother has been killed? I don’t know what I would do without my mother.
“I’m going to shoot you, too, if you don’t tell me where Ghost is!”
Ghost? Who is Ghost?
“Dios! I don’t know who Ghost is! Please. My wife needs help. She’s bleeding. Can we take her to the emergency room? Please!” My father never begs and it’s weird to him doing so.
Tears fall from my eyes unchecked and I know that things are about to get really bad. It was then that I remembered that my brother, Paul, has a nick name.
Ghost is Paul.
Why is Paul hanging around these people that are threatening to kill our parents? Oh no! I heard about this kind of stuff. They must be after something or Paul must have promised them something.
Since he has been back from jail this last time, I have noticed many things that are different with him. Let’s just skip over the current situation and dive into the fact that he disappears for weeks on end and I’m not too naive to know what he does while he’s gone.
He has been acting very sketchy lately since he came back from jail. One time, he didn’t come home for a long time and when he did, he had these weird black marks on his arms. My mom and dad kept trying to get him to go to a hospital, but he didn’t want to go.
“Dios! Please, my wife needs help! She can’t die! We have a-”
Bang!
There’s a loud bang that shakes the whole house and has me covering my mouth to prevent my scream of surprise. I know that someone had fired a gun, and I’m hoping that my parents are all right.
“Where is Ghost?” The man yells and I hear gurgling of something in someone’s mouth.
I don’t know what’s scarier, not knowing or my imagination. What if my family dies? What if they die and…?
“What the fuck, homie?” Paul yells and I hear him throw something against the wall. Normally, when he comes back from his weekend trips, he’s angry and constantly throwing things across the room. One time, he threw a dining room table chair across the kitchen and it splintered into millions of pieces. It was terrible.
Without thinking, I crawl out from under the bed in hopes that my big brother would save me from whatever is happening. Once I’m behind the door, I peek through the open crack and see something that nightmares can’t even think of.
My family is dead, and Paul is in the middle of a group of thugs and they are clapping backs. “Ghost, we have been waiting for you!” A man that is about my brother’s height says and he’s facing my way. I see that he’s Mexican or maybe even Cuban with his dark features, but the tattoos are something that stick out to me the most.
I live in a predominately gang affiliated area and we have been taught since I was young to pay attention to those tattoos and markers to identify. The Metro Detroit Police Department have instilled those things in our minds to help us know who to talk to and who not to.
There is a big tattoo of 13 on the man’s cheek and his knuckles of his hands have something scrawled across them. It was then that I noticed that Paul has the same thing.
“Who’s that?” The man with the 13 asks and points directly at me.
With a new fear, I begin to push myself further against the wall in hopes that it will help hide me from Paul and his friends.
“No one, man. I don’t know who it is.”
13 Man comes towards me and when he gets closer to me, I notice that his face is covered in tattoos. His neck is as well. There is not a visible inch of his body that is not covered in ink and it’s intimidating as all get out. My tears fall faster and harder and are making my cheeks sting from it.
He places his hand out to me and I can see the splatter of blood on them. My tears fall harder and faster, and I can’t help but wheeze while doing it. Oh my god! He’s covered in blood!
I look past his hand and to Paul who nods his head for me to take it. Once I place my trembling hand in his, he pulls me up gently. “You have been holding out on me, homie. Why didn’t you tell me that you had a little senorita at home like this? You tappin’ her?”
I scrunch my face up in disgust and try to remove my hand. This causes the mystery man to squeeze tighter. “Nuh-uh-uh, mi corazon. You are staying right here.”
Paul pushes in between us and shoves me away from his friend. My back hits the wall and my brother reaches into his pocket. When the 13 Man comes back to his senses, Paul punches him in the face, and I hear a crunch. The other man falls back into the wall and my brother comes up to me carefully.
While he digs into his wallet, he yanks hundreds out of his wallet. “Take this and get out. Don’t come back. Do you hear me, Luca?”
I nod but then I start to breathe shallower and I begin to panic. Am I going to die? I feel like I’m about to die. This is horrible.
“But-” I begin, Paul cuts me off with a sharp shake of his head.
“No questions. Get the fuck out of here and don’t come back.”
I grab Paul’s face and hold on tightly. “Come with me. Don’t stay with him. Please, don’t. Come with me.”
The light must have gotten brighter, or I have finally opened my swollen eyes. No wonder he has been turning me down on my begging him to leave with me. He has a 13 tattooed right on his neck and it’s huge. I know what that means. That means that he can’t come with me.
Blood in blood out.
