JC Juarez and Sean Heinz

Bloody Money

It’s just like any other ordinary day. April 15, 1979. Ms. Booker was at work only to find out she had 3 missed calls. These calls were from Mr. Booker’s mom, so she immediately returns the call only to find out Mr. Booker was shot and killed only to become another victim of the streets…

April 18, 1979, Jordan Booker Jr. was born, aka me. I was born and raised without my pops. As a young kid, I grew up very confused, and always mad. Growing up as a young kid, the people around you tell you how you look, sound, and act just like someone you have never met in your life. My mother believed that my father’s death was her fault. My grandmother told me she would always say she could have done something to prevent it.

Granny Kay is my grandmother; the one who raised me from the age of 2 until I was 10. I grew up with Granny Kay because from a newborn to the age of 2, my mother Ms. Booker had let her depression get the best of her which lead her to turn to drugs. Her addiction got way out of hand. It seemed as if she never had enough money to satisfy her addiction, so then she went to selling her body to provide for her addictions. Granny Kay took me in and tried her best to keep me out of the streets and got me into basketball.

This all happened in the early ’80s when all types of drugs landed into our populations. Seeing drugs wasn’t anything out of the ordinary to me, since everywhere I went, there were always drugs. Dope fiends always walking around my block like zombies; jaw locked and looking half dead. You see, with drugs, it’s all about the money, but if you have no buyers or users, there is no profit. The drug lords caught on to this and passed it onto the kids who were as young as 13 years old to do the dirty work for them. My mom fell into this problem. Not the money route, but to one of those people who would become a junkie.

When I was 10 years old living, while I was with my Granny Kay, my mom had sobered up for a while, so I moved back in with her. My mom and I never had contact with each other, but her and Granny Kay had agreed to me moving back with her to create that mother and son bond, back to how it should be. To be honest, I was not really excited about this because just like my father, I didn't know this lady. I just heard about her.

Fast forward a year later, everything's good. My mom seems like a very nice lady. I still don’t have a connection with her as I do with my Granny Kay, but our relationship felt very natural. I was now 11 years old and my mom had turned to the dating scene. For the next 2 years, different guys were in and out of the house every other month until 1 guy, who my mom stuck with, named Angelo came along. Angelo went by his street name “AK.” I never really liked AK because he would beat my mom in front of me. She would always provide for his needs before mines, and although he would abuse her, she would always believe he was right for doing it. I remember I used to be so mad, but I couldn't do anything about it; I was just a little boy. Angelo was on drugs and also had a kid of his own, who was now my new stepbrother. His name was Michael, but I called him Mikey. He was 7 years old and we cared for each other so much because we shared the same problems. I told him I would do anything to protect him since I was the one taking care of him while our parents were in the living room drugged out together.

While all this was going on, I had got the news that Granny Kay had died from a sickness. This had left me feeling all alone and in a rage. I did not know what to do, so long story short, I released this rage and sadness on anyone who got in the way of Mikey and I. Anyone who got in our way were going to get a nice clean stomp to the face with the same converse I had outgrown and worn every day because it was all we could afford.

4 years later, after constantly getting evicted back to back and having to go to school with the same clothes as the day before, it felt like a cursed cycle. Every day, I would wake up, get Mikey ready for school, fix up any kind of food we had, and let him eat it for breakfast. Next, I would get ready and wait for him to finish the food. I would eventually find something to eat later or eat the next day, as long as Mikey was fed, I was fine. We would leave the house around 6:30 am and I would walk him to Bluford Elementary School, a few blocks away from home. I went to Bluford High, which is even further, but I still managed to make it on time every day. Bluford high is where I hung out with my friends Mac and Derek, who I grew up with almost my whole life. We were all going through the same struggle; being broke with no family, since we were some youngins, but I started to notice that they were coming to school all fitted with diamond and gold chains, looking like they had money. So one day, I asked them how all of the sudden they were getting money and they told me.

They said, “Man, we started working for Omar he gave us our own corner to run, you feel me. We are all tired of this place and we're done being the definition of broke.”

In my mind, I’m sitting here asking myself, who the hell is Omar? Then everything started to click in my head. I started remembering what my granny told me about this drug lord by the name of Omar. She told me to keep my head in those books and hoops. That is when Mac took off one of his gold chains and lightly dropped it in my hand.

He told me to keep it and to, “Let me know when you wanna come make some money like us! If we don’t sell our product to those junkies, someone else will, and we could use another man to look out for 1 time and keep count anyways.”

I went home that night after basketball practice and laid on the cold floor where Mikey and I would sleep at night. I really thought about what Mac said. I was stuck between hooping and I thought that I would probably end up nowhere trying to make an honest dollar because scholars don't really look at kids from our low-income schools. Those scholars don't have to worry about selling drugs because they have a guaranteed filled plate and at least a mattress to sleep on every day.

On top of that, remember those converse I said I had outgrown, but it was all I could afford? Yeah, well, I'll have multiple pairs of brand new clothes and shoes to wear throughout the weeks now, if I start selling drugs. This was, of course, after I made sure that Mikey was all set before me.

Long story short, I had a long sleepless night, filled with a whole lot of tossing and turning. I woke up that morning with a hard tough decision. I had to give Omar a call to see if I had what it takes to be the counting man/ look out on the same corner as Mac and Derek.