A Beacon For Challenge

“You gotta stop,” Marcus said grabbing Danny’s arm.

“I need the money, I’m so sick of this little shit house,” Danny said while releasing his arm of his brother’s grip.

Danny looked down at the small balloon of poppers in his hand, feeling the weight of two grams pull down on his hand like an elephant. He’d mixed the drugs himself, it was a new hybrid he’d invented, he was proud of it and it made Danny a lot of money. He left for the door, Marcus felt their attachment release as he left, like a hot knife had cut straight through his hold on Danny, leaving him with an empty feeling yet again after trying to keep him off the streets for so long. 

    As Danny walked down the streets of Chicago he looked at the small, broken down and mostly abandoned bungalows of his sad suburbs. He saw most of his neighbors sitting outside on their stained lawn chairs, cigarettes in their warn-down hands and regret in their eyes.

“This ain’t gon’ be me,” Danny muttered to himself looking at Mr. Daniels, who looked straight back, the bald spot of his head burning Danny’s eyes from the reflection of the hot sun. 

Danny thought about his older brother Marcus, he was twenty-two, a large, broad-shouldered, dark brown hair, and bearded boy. They had been on their own ever since their parents were both shot down mere blocks from their home. Marcus towered over Danny, as he was only eighteen, still growing into his body, peach fuzz encompassing his top lip, he looked like a boy trying to be something he was not. Marcus had always warned Danny against falling into ‘the street,’ but he let it engulf him, enjoying the rush and riches. Danny wasn’t an idiot as he always told his brother, he felt the cold touch of his glock sitting in between the waist of his pants and his underwear. It was his third gun, Marcus had always thrown them away.

“Are you fucking dull? No, seriously, this thing is gonna get you killed!” Danny recalled Marcus taking the gun from him in vivid detail. Marcus had put his arm out, seperating Danny from his future demise.

“This right here,” Marcus said shaking the gun, “Is a beacon for challenge, you’re letting everyone know that you wanna fight, and down here people are looking for any excuse!”

Marcus screamed down at Danny, who only tried harder to get back his ‘strap.’

Danny snapped back to reality when he saw his buyer down the street. The man stood there, unlike his normal buyers. The man was wearing Jordans, he looked relatively healthy and was wearing nice, clean clothes, as opposed to Danny’s usual buyers who were shaking, pale skin, raggedy old clothes and looked as though they were on the verge of death.

The man waved to Danny, who in turn waved back, signifying this was indeed the man he was looking for.

“Whattup cuz.” The man said, looking down at Danny.

“Jus’ Hustlin’,” Danny remarked back.

“So you been sellin’ on my block for a while?” The man said with a change in tone, “I heard you got some good shit, been stealin’ some my customers.” The man was looking dead into Danny’s eyes, the quick switch sending chills down Danny’s back.

“Ion want no trouble, G.” Danny started to back away, trying to escape from the man’s gaze.

Two men dressed in all black with sunglasses, charcoal masks, and midnight hats stepped out from behind Danny, seemingly from thin air, blocking his escape.

“Jus’ take the poppers, man.” Danny dropped his drug-filled balloon to the ground, raising his hands.

The first man pulled out a gun, the flawless exterior glistening in the blazing sun, the barrel pointed directly in between Danny’s eyes. he looked down the barrel, as many had been killed with it before, he saw the pure despair filling the void.

“Search him.” The first man said, the gun in his hand filling him with power, with a rush he felt like no other.

The goons searched Danny, taking them a matter of seconds to find his hidden Glock. One of them pulled it from Danny’s waist, raising it to the gaze of the first man, like a beacon.

The man walked with purpose towards Danny, putting the hole of his gun directly on Danny’s stomach. “You a big man, ain’t you?” The man said inches away from Danny’s face.

Danny could feel the man’s breath on his face, cool and lifeless. His eyes, inches away from his own, staring into them. Danny could see one thing in the brown abyss, intent.

Bang.

The sound was deafening, Marcus had heard the shot while in the living room watching TV on the thirty-four-inch screen. He felt his heart twist into a knot, sending waves of anxiety to every crevice of his body. His adrenaline kicked in, he busted through the door, kicking it with every bit of power he could muster it flew off the hinges, eight feet from where it was bolted. He sprinted to the direction of the gunfire, tears starting to appear in his eyes, he ran faster.

Danny looked away from the man’s merciless eyes, his mouth was wide, along with his eyes. He was in a state of shock. All he could do was put his hands to his stomach and fall to the ground as he watched the men in black get in their dark El Camino and drive away. He felt the warm rush of red spread across his hands, continuing to flow he looked at his hands, encompassed in a shimmering crimson. He held tight, putting as much pressure as he could on the wound, trying as hard as he could to keep his insides from slipping out. He watched as the sidewalk turned into a color of a glowing rose. His shock and adrenaline began to slip out, along with his blood. He began to feel the tsunamis of anguish envelop every inch of his stomach like someone was lighting a fire from within him. He began to drift off into sleep, but all he could think of was his brother.

Danny reminisced of a time when he was younger, he sat in the park, no more than sixty pounds, he was eleven at the time. His mom had just had a screaming match with her boyfriend when his hand hit her face, her look of terror, her boyfriend’s look of anger, Danny left. He sat on the swings, tears sliding down his face, looking at the sand.

“Your clothes look cheap,” A large boy said to Danny, he laughed, causing his two friends to join in on the fun.

Danny was pushed off the swing, he hit the sand, it was harder than he thought it would be, hitting the ground with a large thud. The sand was coarse, it found its way into every inch of his clothes as the boys continued to push him down as he tried to stand. Danny rolled away, stood up and punched the first boy in his jaw. He felt content with the solid connection he had made. The boy looked at Danny, blood dripping from his split lip, any feeling of accomplishment Danny had swiftly abandoned him as the boy stared back at him.

“Oh, you’re dead now.” The boy said grabbing Danny by the shirt, pulling him close as he raised his fist.

As his hand was soaring through the air time slowed, Danny looked at the brick of a fist, unready for the pain that would ensue. The hand was caught by one that made it look like a child’s. The boy was grabbed and thrown an astounding ten feet. Danny was dropped to the floor and watched his brother loom over him as the group of three ran. Danny felt safe and at ease, feeling the presence of his brother soothe his anxiety. Marcus felt it too, angry at Danny for getting himself into the situation, but happy that he was able to save him.

Marcus sprinted toward his brother who was engulfed in a pool of blood that maniacally drifted down the street. 

“Danny!” Marcus hollered to his brother.

He finally made it, dropping to his knees he held his brother in his arms. Marcus slapped him.

“Wake up! Please man, please don’t leave me too.” Marcus was hysterical, he shook his brother, doing everything he could to bring him back.

Danny’s eyes slid open one last time, he looked up at the looming figure which was his brother, feeling safe in his presence, protected as his brother held him.

“Hey! Buddy, buddy, stay with me.” Marcus begged, blood enveloping his hands and every inch of his clothes as he held his brother.

Danny analyzed every detail of his brother, feeling the agony of his wound slip, before drifting off permanently with a smile, thinking about the time his brother did save him.