Chapter II: Rolling Thunder
Since my mother's passing, my relationship with my Dad had drifted somewhat. We didn't hang out as much as we used to. He'd come home, check up on me, sometimes I do the same for him, maybe some small talk about work and school, but the joy between us seem to have strained it-self. With Mom gone, our home felt hallow. These walls were quiet. The scent of succulent meals, soft music in the background, or just hearing her laughter while on the phone, all of that were just memories to us, painful memories. No matter how much at peace she made before she left, we was just never ready... Nevertheless, my Dad would still be a father to me, a good one when he can, but I wasn't much of a good son. Always running around in the streets, barely coming home unless I needed a change of clothes, staying at friend's house, couch-hopping, doing things i had no business doing. I always needed an escape, and with the way things were, I wasn't trying to fix my problems, just kept creating them.
One thing that hasn't changed was my love for racing. After I upgraded my permit to license, I was on the prowl for my first race. From some chatter around the way, heard there was some boys in East L.A. trying to stunt on the tarmac and make noise. Of course I got grilled for showing up, but not as much as they grilled me for my car. There had to be about at least 50-75 people at the car meet, mostly guys, but there were definitely some hot women about trying to have a good time with their dudes or looking for a good time with the shortest and tightest skirt they can keep their asses from falling out of. I didn't have much to offer to the scenery as I was just as green as my ride, but with $300 to my name, I put my last cent on the line for a 3/4 quarter drag sprint. As laughable as my entry was, one guy stepped up as a charity, as he put it. His name was Trey, the streets called him, "Trill". Trill sported a Buick Grand National with a V6. And while the crowd was on his side, I had the confidence in myself to win. While he touted power, I touted my acceleration, besting him in a two of three heat runs. Trill wasn't pleased about coughing up the pot, even going as far as to try to intimidate me, but I stood my ground and earned $600 and a bit of respect. It wasn't long until I found myself with a few more wins under my belt, and the streets were learning my name. A kid who only had $300 to his name, flipped it for nearly $20,000 in a matter of weeks. While some were giving me my respect, not all were too keen on paying up, trying to flip a sore loss into a violent situation. One vato, Chino, was not to be messed with, being a part of MS-13. Be it win or lose, Chino was expected to walk away with the purse, but my pride wasn't having that. I won my race fair and square and to try to put some tension at ease of cheating, I offered a tour of my engine to prove there was no tricks under my sleeve, just all skills. And just when I learned that wasn't enough convincing, that's when my bacon was saved from the frying pan...
"Ha-haaa! That's my dawg right there! Getting duckets in a bucket! Fam, what I told you about revealing all your secrets under the hood?"
"Huh? You talking to me?"
"Am I talking to you, boy you got some nerves to act like you don't know me, CJ!"
"How do you know-"
"Come on, walk with me, talk with me. Aye, Chino, lay off of him man, he's new around here, he definitely don't know who you are so allow me put him on game, if you will."
"Yeah, you do that, ese..."
I was pulled aside by the unknown loud mouth who prevented a situation that was about to get ugly, "Look who it is, the man I been looking for."
"Who are you? How you know me?"
"They call me, "Robbing Hood""
"Robin?", CJ reiterated.
"Nah fool, Robbing, like New Jack, or you trying to find out the hard way?"
"Nah man, I think I got the gist of it."
"Yeah, anyway, I heard of you by way of my little cousin you go to school with, don't ask no names. Talking 'bout this kid in a go-kart racer jacket, who's a go-kart racer, winning shit. Also mentioned how you be pulling up to school in a green Subaru. Apparently, you look the part with your little racer jacket on right now, and seeing there's a green Subaru right behind us, it just had to be you, pulling up to the lion's den."
"Didn't think I was big enough in L.A. to be followed."
"Don't get big headed kid, but you definitely got a rep. Did a little homework on you, your accolades legitimizes you. What you doing rolling up into the lion's den like this? This ain't a smart idea."
"Man, I just wanted to race. Just having fun."
"Homie, you're definitely green around these parts. You want to have fun, you take your ass to fun land or something, these ain't the type of people you want to have fun with. These are serious people. Serious about their cars and their bread. More importantly, they're serious about their street cred, and they prioritize that above everything else I mentioned."
"Alright, so let me just get my car and I'll bounce out of here. Won't see me again if it's that serious."
"I think that's the best idea for you, but hold up, you gonna have to make a sacrifice to satisfy los loco over there."
"What you mean?" I asked.
"Well, whatever pot that was on the line, that's his now."
"What!? Nah man, that was $40,000 on the line! I can't let that slide man!"
"Yeah? Tell me what's it gonna be? You slide that fourty-bands over to him, or they slide your ass into a hearse, if you're lucky they leave you in one piece. That's MS-13 fool, not to be fucked with."
I took a deep sigh, taking in all that I was hearing from someone I didn't know from a hole in a wall, but yet, things were looking hairy.
"Come on, I know you really not contemplating over a easy choice..."
"Alright, alright. Fine, give him the fucking money, bro... Fuck..."
"Aye, money makes the world go around. What leaves you, will come back, believe that."
Robbing Hood and I walked back over to my car, where Chino chose to reside his carcass on the side of my car, pretty much giving me no escape route. But I wouldn't have taken the chance to find out if they were packing heat or not anyway.
"Chinoooo! My dawg! Listen, I talked to the boy and knocked some sense into him. Just lay off my man here and let him slide. In return, my boy CJ is going to make a handsome contribution of $40,000 to the, "Chino National Relief Services" as gratuity to experiencing and participating in the lion's den."
Robbing Hood grabbed the winning purse from the MC and handed it to Chino, letting him verify and satisfy the count. But all I could think about is $40,000 down the drain, bamboozled out of more accurately. Just a few weeks ago, I only started out with $300 to my name, now, nothing. I guess in this lesson here, pushing your luck will only go so far.
"Fourty thousand... Gone... Just like that..." I mumbled under low enough as I walked back over to the driver side of my car.
"Yeah, but you live to see all that gone and take your linky ass home and see another day."
"Dude is just a fucking sore loser, man. Simple as that."
"I know, trust, I agree. But that's the hood for you, some games you got to play by their rules until you can play by your own. You ain't from around here, aren't you?"
"From Chicago, but I've been here in L.A. pretty much since I was little."
"Aw shit, your mud ain't no shittier from ours. Yo, give the big homie a ride one time. I wanna see how this girl move!"
From there, Robbing Hood and I took our leave from the lion's den with haste. I couldn't get away from there fast enough. Flat broke and a deflated spirit, embracing death would have probably been better than tucking tail and running. But fuck it, life's learning lesson.
"CJ, listen. I know that shit burn, giving up that kind of money, especially for a kid like you. But you got your whole life ahead of you. Fuck that bread."
"So what? You're supposed to be my knight in shining armor?"
"Hell nah, just happened to be at the right place at the right time. I was getting a lick of my own. But Chino back there, that low-skully wearing mother fucker isn't all that smart. Cars isn't Chino's science, he just likes to race. Money is his thing. But I just put a tracker on his right hand's car. I'm about to boost that mother fucker and resell it back to him for a finder's fee. So in essence, that money you loss is money I'll gain."
"How the hell does that even work? You've done this before?"
"Yup, even the car he raced you with, finder's fee too."
"How does he not suspect you? You keep rolling to him in cars he lose."
"It's one of my things, man. My hustle is cars, I get whatever you think you need, as long as the bread is right!"
"Yeah, well, it's easy to say all that when it's not your money you're throwing away"
"Fool, ain't no money anybody's money. Money is just like a female, it's only your turn when you got it!"
I really had nothing to say to that rebuttal as I kept driving and listening to his bullshit. He was right though, $40,000 was a lot of money for someone like me, and I was tight that I never had a second to enjoy it in my hands.
"Like I told you, what goes around, comes back around. The lion's den ain't the circuit in California. From 2-bit gangsters to the rich teenage snobs who never seen a day of work in their entire lives be out here. You find all walks of life in the dark."
"I guess man."
"Yeah, I hear you down in the dumps, so I got a proposition for you, peep game. I know these cats in Sacramento, some real ballers, claim they the kings of the strips. But they ain't nothing but some dirty busters that be running against lames daily stock cars. And the way you're pushing ol' girl here, you're a different breed."
"Alright, so what? We go down to Sacramento and run some laps?"
"That's the idea, but the money different there, they don't run for cash, it's pink slips only."
"Pink slips? You mean titles!?"
"Correctomundo, El Capitan."
"Nah man, I'm not feeling that at all. Yo, this is all I got, this is my first car, my old man got me this for my birthday."
"And it won't be your only or your last car either. I'm telling you, there's some serious money to be made here."
"How? You just said they play for slips."
"Right. And that's where you and your expertise behind the wheel comes in. You line up with these goofies, blow them out, we take the slips."
"That don't sound like money is being made", I sternly responded.
"Just listen, dawg, I'm getting to it. We take these fool's cars and flip them, and if we can't flip them, it's to the chop shop they go, there's always someone looking for scraps. At the end of the day, it's a no-money investment, but high risk, high reward... You can easily make bank and triple your loss of $40,000. There's always a sucker out here trying to step up and be the new, "King of the Hill". So the surplus is always there. Most of these cars get imported and exported for exchange, and by exchange, I mean that oh mighty dollar. You want to race, all you have to do is race. You just need to race like your life depend on it. I'll handle the rest from there, and we bank. I got a whole team put together at a shop, we just been waiting on a driver like you."
"Like me?"
"I didn't stutter. Exactly like you. Come fuck with me, I'ma blow you up, get your name all over the streets, all the big rollers gonna come out of pocket and invest. And the best part in it for you is that your hands stay clean, cause all you did was drive, providing you never get caught by one-time."
"Man... I really don't know about this."
"Think about it homeboy, you can make some serious paper, set your family up, better yet, get them the hell out of this sink whole. You think I live out here where I do my dirty work? Shiiiiit, I know better. Too many snakes in these tall grasses."
"You're really serious about this?"
"Dead serious, CJ. I'm telling you, my operation runs flawless. Our spot ain't never been blown up or too hot, except for our last driver."
"What happened to the last driver?", I asked with concern.
"Ain't nothing. Fool just didn't know how to keep his mouth shut and his wallet fat. We didn't do nothing to him, but the streets did. That was on him. Let's just say, it was a case of divine intervention for you and deja vu for me tonight. Aye, pull up over here, this me..."
I pulled over somewhere on Obama Boulevard in Crenshaw to let Robbing Hood depart, just before he let me peel off, he leaned through the window, handing me his contact card.
"You should really think about my offer. It's money to be made."
"I'll think on it. Give me a few days and I'll back to you."
"Chea', you do that homie. Thanks for the ride, here's a little something for you."
Robbing Hood reached out his back pocket a wad of cash, peeling a few fresh hundreds off top and handed it to me. With a close mouth, I accepted it. Ironically, it was $300. This had to be a joke of my life somehow.
"I'll be seeing you CJ..."
With that, I ended my night on the streets of L.A. and took my ass home. After how tonight went and how it could've ended up, there was no place I rather be than home with Dad...
