“Yeah. I do. That’s why I asked you.” I glared at him.
“Look. I’m in the lead for the presidency. The vote is tonight,” he said with a guilty expression. Shockwaves ran through my system.
“What the fuck do you mean, presidency, mano? El Diablo just got murdered!” Palo had the same greenish eyes as me, except with more hazel accents. He tried to soothe me by grabbing my arm.
“Hey. I want to change things. The other guys listen to me. I can make it better. That’s part of my familia too. Just like you are.” My eyes welled up with angry tears. I didn’t want the same fate for my brother as El Diablo.
“You’re stupid! You’ll get killed! What have they ever done for you that’s so great, huh?” I pressed.
“Don’t start this mess again, Misty. You’re taken care of, aren’t you? I’m paying your way through medical school. Without the club, you wouldn’t have been able to get there,” he responded with passion. A wave of emotional guilt washed over me.
“Don’t you dare!” My Spanish fire raged in my blood, ready to burn him. “I would have bagged groceries if I had to so you didn’t have to be part of Las Balas. I never wanted your dirty money to cover me. You fool!” I spat back. His jaw clenched and he gritted his teeth. I didn’t care. My brother wouldn’t harm a hair on my head.
“I’m going to do what I want, when I want, and that’s just it. Hypocritical of you since you accepted the gifts from Carlos!” He came back at me. A low blow. The glare of try-me was written all over his face. I let it drop. Every time we got into an argument, it was about Las Balas. I had to focus all my energy on my studies, so I refused to go back and forth with him for too long.
“My thing is that...I’m scared because now I feel you’ll be a target. I didn’t know what Carlos was doing. But I didn’t ask either.” I softened. “Why can’t you understand that? Why now?” My spirit was vexed. Behind Palo was this sense of urgency that irked me. We were pretty close, but this time, hidden secrets were in the mix. I ate my toast and drank down my juice quickly. I didn’t want to be late for class. Palo kept rubbing his head.
“I’m sorry. That was wrong for me to say,” he sighed. “This club is a community though. We stand together; a few rotten eggs don’t mean we fall apart. I’m going to end up president. It’s happening.” His eyes were like a tiger’s. When he spoke, people listened. Ladies loved him as well. I waited, wanting to hear him out. “I’ll fix it. Make it right. I’m not about violence in the club. But sometimes you have to do what you have to do.” As soon as the animated version of my brother emerged, I got ready for a major speech. I crossed my arms, anticipating it. “El Diablo had to go. He put a black cloud over the whole club.” His arm reached out to span in a circle. “Now. Me.” He beat his chest with his fist. “I will be the man to restore us. All of my brothers will stand with me. Legit business dealings. Family rides. Helping the community. When we stand together, we can achieve much. We can move mountains. But divided, we fall.”
I paused. All of his points were valid. I let him continue:
“If we crumble now, the street hustlers win. We must crusade for the right causes, Misty. Just like you want to save lives, so do I.” That hit hard. I had no rebuttal.
“Two sides of the coin, aren’t we? Passionate about family,” I responded softly. His tight face softened, and he pulled me in for a hug.
“I love you, little one. I get it you’re worried. It’s going to be fine though. I swear.”
“Promise?”
He held out his pinky finger and tugged at mine. “Pinky swear.”
I smiled. “I can’t stop you, but know I’m not happy about it,” I grumbled. He chuckled and grabbed my cheek.
“I know. See you when I’m looking at you.” He winked and left me standing in the kitchen. I sighed and looked to the heavens, asking God to protect my brother.
I made it to anatomy class right on time. My study partner and African American friend Shauna squeezed in beside me. We were in the lab today, looking at anatomical models.
“Hey, girl! How are you? Did you end up getting your card back from Mr. Hottie?”
I fanned myself in response. She laughed.
“Yes, I sure did. And hottie is right!” We clasped hands together. We had about twenty people in our class and we were set to look directly at dead bodies and examine them. The life and times of a medical student.
“I hope the smell of formaldehyde doesn’t make me barf.” She held on to my arm dramatically.
“How the hell are you going to be a doctor if you can’t handle bad smells?” I threw back at her.
“Umm. Good point.” She wagged her finger at me. “Yep, I concur. Might be time for me to reassess.” Other students from our class rolled in and Mrs. Sinclair spoke.
“Hello, all my bright and beautiful med students. Today we’re going to go straight to matters of the heart. We are going to take a look at some healthy hearts and some not-so-healthy hearts.”
Shauna wrinkled her nose in disgust. I tapped her lightly. Mrs. Sinclair, a lady in her late fifties and the former head of a surgical ward, was someone I had respect for. I really wanted to pay attention to this class. She’d worked at one of the most renowned hospitals in the country.
“Put your gloves on at the front of the class and we’ll wheel them out one by one. I want you to dig deep today and tell me what’s wrong with each of them. Time to put all that theory into action,” she said.
I concentrated hard and was able to pick up most of the defects with each case and scenario presented. I missed a couple of things, but that was about it.
After class, I scrubbed the essence of dead hearts from my body. Sometimes it took a while to shake off the stench. Students poured out of the class one by one. Shauna and I stepped out and onto campus grounds.
