THE CITY BREAKS ITS PROMISE
Welcome to Hunts Point, New York City. They called it the Point, a small neighborhood in the South Bronx. Known for its red lights district, violence and poverty, Hunt’s Point is a tough place to survive. Spiro Tobick and his sister Sephrina were born during the crack epidemic to two homeless addicts. Eventually addiction took its toll on them and after their parents disappeared Spiro was forced to take responsibility before he was even thirteen. The streets were no match for Spiro’s desire and ambitions to allow his sister to be as comfortable as possible. He sold candy on the subway, stole from stores and sold weed during the day and then cleaned up chop shops, ran errands for prostitutes and worked in trap houses at night. Spiro did all he could to protect his sister, but eventually they were caught and sent through Foster Care. After years of being tortured by their Foster Father and ravaged by the system their cries are heard and their Uncle adopts them. Ten years later, tension reaches its peak in the relationship between Spiro and Sephrina and she departs on a Heroin binge. Worried sick, Spiro accepts a deadly task from his Uncle who is the boss of Hunts Point’s major crime syndicate. Spiro realizes this would advance his request to get a job in Manhattan away from Hunts Point. Spiro tries aimlessly to get away but the past wouldn’t let him go. With a heart simmering with guilt and memories of a painful past, Spiro searches for answers and his sister, finding so much more in the process. With so much to lose, will Spiro balance his life without losing himself? Will he fall to deep in the process? Or will Sephrina become yet another victim of the promises of the city?
“Can I help you sir?” asked a short black man in scrubs who had a trash bag in his hands. “I’m…well I’m looking for Kevin Goodrich, do you know where I can find him?” I asked. The man nodded and pointed towards another long hallway. “Second to last door on the right, he is in bed, are you his son?” asked the man smiling. I took a deep swallow and thought what to say. “I am his…he was my foster father,” I said quietly. “Ah, you are lucky he is a great guy,” said the man tying up the trash bag and grabbing a mop. “I haven’t seen you around, his health is deteriorating quickly so he might not remember you but in his heart he will.” I knew he had the best intentions in what he said but that had to be one of the sickest moments in my life, thinking about how he know me in his heart. It hurt to hear how he misled everyone. I followed the man’s direction bewildered and hurt. I looked into a TV room where the wheelchair bound were watching a movie with what looked like Fred Astaire. Then an old man came over to me and grabbed my arm. “Where is my mother?” “I don’t know,” I said with a nervous smile. The man had to be at least eighty years old, he wore an musky brown sweater and had a surprising full head of gray hair. “Oscar come over here,” said a black nurse walking over to grab his hand. She had on medical gloves and came from what looked like another patients room, His pants fell off as she helped him and everyone started to laugh. It seemed as though the poor fool had completely lost his mind. It was the dementia ward so everyone must have been senile. There were multiple large areas where the seniors were packed in but it felt condensed and it was humid. I was surprised by the amount of heat, but then again I knew that the old patients must have always got cold. My grandmother Helga who I barely knew, always was cold and would wear multiple sweaters. So I walked up the room that the aid had described to me. As I slowly entered I heard a machine beeping. He was lying with his mouth open on a hospital bed. He seemed to be about fifty pounds lighter than the last time I saw him. He needed a shave and a haircut, his hands were wrinkly and his fingernails long. He had hairs growing from his nose. In dismay I moved closer towards him. A tear dropped down my cheek as I stood at his bedside. I felt the sudden urge to speak to him even though he couldn’t hear me and hopefully was in a drugged up sleep. So I pulled up a chair and took a seat, I pressed my hands together enraged. He looked so innocent but he wasn’t, he was filth and garbage. I wanted to tell him that, so I decided to start speaking. “You are not an innocent man Kevin, you may have the rest of these people fooled but judgment will come, you will be punished for all you have done. Maybe all of this is your punishment, you deserve worse but maybe you are in a lot of pain. I sure hope so. I wish I could open your mouth, put my Glock between your lips and blow your fucking head off clean right now.” Another few tears rushed down my cheek as I leaned against his bed. Just looking at his face caused pain to shoot through my lower body and I was becoming sick. I thought about what Jack said to me about forgiveness and it floated around my head as I gathered my thoughts. Most of them were bad, as I thought about spitting on him or doing something cruel. “You know what Kevin, you destroyed my sister, you destroyed Jack and you destroyed me. Jack got back up from being knocked down, I haven’t been able to do that and neither has my sister. I hate you; I wish I could tear you apart. I want all these people, these professionals to see and feel what we felt. We didn’t even know what sex was you sick fucking…” I hissed squeezing my fists together as I began to sob. I kicked the bed and then grabbed the handle to it. I worried about people coming in so I stopped being so dramatic but the pain in the emotions hurt so bad.