Somewhere in China: 24. If You’re Good Enough
“Jessie, I’m only doing this because you’re my friend.” Angel said under her hood. She and Jessie were walking on the dark sidewalk. The street lamps glow a nasty yellow, barely lighting the neighborhood. There was a warehouse fenced in with the lights on their side of the sidewalk. Various, mean looking people entered through the opening in the gate, passing by the man who stood guard at the entrance. He was dark skinned, decorated in baggy clothes, yellow sunglasses, a large red Afro, and a big steel pole. When they both came up to the man, Jessie put three fingers up. Angel did the same and he let them pass.
“And because you know you’re gonna like this. Trust me boo, you gon’ like bein’ a Purple Dragon.” Jessie assured her. The two girls entered the large warehouse. There was a reasonably large amount of people meandering around. Most had either Mohawks or shaggy hairstyles with baggy and ripped clothing. They were also decorated in bright, contrasting colors accented with studs, chains, and tattoos.
“The dress code’s a little whack tho.” Angel commented as a freakishly large man walked past them with his entire face painted bright blue. How she wanted to laugh so hard, but for some reason, she believed he had hawk hearing that would end her existence. Jessie ushered her away from the groups of people to find an area of their own to talk.
“That’s ‘cause they street punks and stuff. We gon’ be the only cholas on this side of the organization.” The two girls moved their way through the ugly people, looking forward to the unsocial stack of industrial items in packaging on the left of the building.
“So, we cholas now?” Angel asked. Then, she learned on her friend’s shoulder playfully and began to sing. “This is for the Cholas livin’ la Vida loca!” Angel called in a very stereotypical Hispanic accent. Jessie laughed her off and joined in.
“Carmen’s calls dot com!” Soon, the two girls sang “Lean like a Chola” a parody song to “Lean like a Cholo” in their little spot by themselves. After some time, a punk came over to their spot. Judging by his facial expressions, he didn’t seem too friendly, and judging by the purple dragon tattooed on his face and crawling on his eye, this wasn’t going to end well.
“Shut up! You’re gonna get jumped dancin’ and singin’ around.” He growled. His voice was as ugly as he was. Both his hair and slight beard hair were a disgusting green, and his head was shaved with only a short green ponytail on the back of his head. Unlike the others, he was dressed in grey and black vest, shirt, and jeans. Angel prepared herself to roll up on him, but Jessie pushed her back with a mysteriously nice smile.
“What’s the fun of bein’ a gangster if you can’t have fun with it?” Jessie insisted. He smiled. Angel really wanted to ask what was going on, but she was still slightly afraid of what the older man might do if he decides to call up his posse. “This is my home-girl, Angel, that I’ve been talkin’ about.”
“’Sup.” The man said bluntly.
“What’s good?” Angel returned the same tone. Her eyebrow rose up as she scanned his from head to toe once more. Jessie put a rugged arm over her friend’s shoulder.
“Boo, this is Sonny. He be runnin’ us here.” The man nodded in approval in how Jessie had addressed him. Knowing the somewhat friendly ties between him and her friend did lift her guard partially. Angel knew better than to trust somebody so quickly, even if someone she knew was close to them.
“Lookin’ to be a Purple Dragon huh?” Sonny asked critically. He leaned over to view Angel more closely, in which she responded by backing up slightly, asking for her personal bubble space. Since she knew her friend so well, Jessie stepped in front of Angel, creating a barrier between her and the man.
“More of a test run, ya know. But I think after a little raid she gon’ be all over it.” She winked over her shoulder after explaining. Angel raised both of her eyebrows, silently criticizing the “fun” of becoming a gangster.
“You sure she can hang?” He challenged her.
“She hangs with me, right?” Jessie retorted. He stared at the two girls for a while, petting his small piece of beard with his index finger and thumb.
“Alright. Come with us when we rob a little store downtown tonight. Then, we’ll see if you’re good or bad, Angel.” There was that challenging tone again. Internally, Angel wished his demeanor wasn’t so childish. Sure, she was childish herself, but it was because she was, but Sonny… that was grade-school childish. Just like he arrived, he left with no warning and left the two girls to their own devices.
“Was that a challenge?” The short Latina in purple whipped her head around to face her friend. Every single braid in her hair smacked the side of her face with a slight sting behind each one.
“I think so.” The friend played along with her fake annoyance. Angel began to whip her head and point in various directions.
“He better watch hisself or Imma be on WorldStar tomorrow!” Her empty threat left Jessie crying from laughter.
“You loca!” Jessie called. Her words then triggered a response after Angel began to sing their song once more. Like a good friend, Jessie joined in.
“All up in the hood, you might see
Locas lookin’ good, crazy
Find ‘em at the car show, or on the streets
Or their favorite hangout, the swap meets…” The two continued singing, tacitly hyping themselves up for the raid they were going on that night.
The retirement of the long string of antique stores in downtown New York were dead of color as the gang of gnarly street punks traveled by pack down the seemingly haunted street. Excluding Angel, Sonny, and Jessie, five other young adults snuck around with them as they searched for their next potential victim. Stores down these streets were usually targeting older women with clothing, fabric stores, and décor, yet, they stumbled upon an antique shop full of vintage items. As they poured their tools on the ground, Angel took the time to look into the window of the store and was baffled. A carousel horse was in the window and was tagged $9000 because it was a “hand painted” horse that once belonged to a 1940s carousel. Besides the horse, there was much cooler and shinier objects of display and she imagined how much those must be worth.
Angel took her gaze of the window and saw two of the posse handling crowbars. The two men wedged them into the metal gate that secured the front door. With the dark rust settled on the bars, the two men were able to keep a good grip as they pried the gate wide open, denting it where they had pulled. One of them reached out to turn the knob of the door, but the owner had locked it.
“Clutch time, Angel.” Sonny bent over to pick up a lowly, brown brick set on the ground. “Think you got the juice to be a Purple Dragon?” asking, he handed the brick to her. Angel looked at it with caution, not knowing whether or not she should break the glass window. Jessie nodded her head for her to go on. The voice in her head told her that it was wrong, but it also said that anything she steals she can sell and get some free cash. A mean smile turned on her frown, clutching the brick even tighter in her grip.
“Oh, yeah! I be sippin’ on that juice, too!” With a quiet heave, she hurled the brick into the glass, shattering it into multiple pieces. Lucky for them, the alarm wasn’t set, which meant they were able to take what they please in a longer amount of time.
Instead of taking on the merriment of her friend and the others of grabbing the variously expensive items off of the vulnerable store’s shelves, Angel stood watch. From her post, she could see the enjoyment of others stealing easily and stuffing anything into their own bags. Even the sight of Jessie having fun stuffing pretty jewelry that she liked or retro clothes shifted her. The store was half empty when they all decided to leave and go home with their goods. One of them lead the group outside the back door, as to not risk walking back outside where they came and get caught. Angel held the door open for the rest of the gang who were overloaded with goods in their arms. Sonny was the last to leave, but he stopped Angel before going through.
“Nice work, kid.” His praising was not full of heart. “Keep rollin’ with us, and, if you’re good enough, we’ll let you in our little organization.” He then threw a bag of money at her, which she took with great surprise. Was all this meant for her to keep? Didn’t he just smash up that register so he could have it? No, he gave it to her. If that guy gave her that just for coming, imagine how much real money he has already stolen from past robberies... Imagine how much money she could steal. The voice inside her told her that it was wrong to leave with that bag all to herself, but she told it to ‘Shut Up’ because holding all that money felt good. Never had she had close as much in her possession. Maybe stealing was her way of getting payback for her previously cruddy life and deserved her chance of true happiness. Jessie may have been right about this organization, and Sonny did say that if she kept doing this, this thing that made her feel this good; she would be a Purple Dragon permanently and steal even more. The idea tickled Angel all the more.
