The first time I shot a man, it was by accident. Uncle Rico and Remmey told him that I did it on purpose, and that if he moved one more time I would shoot him again. So I had to stand there, nervous as shit, and act like I knew how to shoot him again in the exact same spot. Because I was about business, like them.

I figured it couldn't be that hard since I knew how to hit people in the same spot every time. So I just did everything Sammy taught us to do. Focusing and breathing, and I kept my eye steady on the target.

            Of course this fool moved again...and of course Rico told me to shoot him again.

            So I did.

            And I hit him pretty close to the same spot.

            I was eleven at the time, and from that point on Rico and Remmey started calling me Little Rico. They should have called me Little Sammy, since she was the one who taught me how to stay focused and hit my target.

            It wasn't long after that that Uncle Rico pulled me off of car detail – which is what he called it when we jacked cars and tricked them out – and posted me up full time on the main corner with my uncles. He wanted me to learn everything from them, and would quiz me every night to make sure that I was learning, and to make sure that they were teaching me.

            He also wanted me to hold the money for them. He said he was working on a new team that I would be over, so that when the time came my uncles would be freed up to help him with distribution and runs...which is what he called it when he went on out of town trips. I never asked where he went. It was always just "out of town." And he would always come back with either alot of money, or alot of drugs. Sometimes he would come back with a crapload of guns. I started noticing more and more kids my age and older coming around and standing on the corners with my uncles, but they didn't keep money like I did. They gave it all to me. I just had to hold it until Uncle Rico came around to pick it up. Mostly all the other kids did was sell, run and get my uncles food, or keep their eyes open for new people trying to come on our block. Of course there was also still the stickup crew that I used to be a part of, and there were some new older boys that Rico had working the crackhouses with my uncles.

Me and Jazz were still the only ones who cooked, though.

            All of the kids that Rico hired were from our neighborhood. He never had any new people around us, ever. And he always put Remmey with me. Probably because nobody messed with Remmey. Which meant that nobody ever messed with me. Remmey was funny. He would say the craziest shit to people and they would just take it. He told me that I had to start talking to people like that, too. And look them in the eye until they looked away first. No matter who it was, I had to keep staring at them until they looked away first.

            A lot of people started acting like they were afraid of me after I shot that man. Before it would have pissed me off, because I had never liked people assuming that they knew what I was about, but now I was glad they feared me. Rico had me walking around with all that money, and I didn't want anyone thinking they could take it from me. If they tried, they would get shot, too. Just like ol' boy.

Especially now that I knew I could put a hot one in somebody and get away with it.

I didn't want to hurt anybody else, but I most definitely would if I had to.   

Rico gave me my own .22 when I started stealing cars, but I didn't ever really need to use it until I started monitoring the corners with Remmey. Rico told me that I could get a Glock like them once I got my weight up. When no one was around, Remmey would laugh his ass off at my .22 and tell me to show him how I would pull it on somebody if I needed to. He told me never to practice on him, though, because I was his nephew but he would "fuck me up" if I ever pulled a gun on him. I believed him, too.

Remmey would beat anybody up.

Bad.

Like mama.

Worse than how mama used to fight people. But with Remmey it didn't matter if it was a lady, or an old man, or a little kid. If they owed him money, he would get it out of them one way or the other.

I didn't really play around with Remmey too much because you never knew when he was going to all of a sudden stop playing and be fuckin' wit' you for real. So I tried to stay on business around him at all times, like Uncle Rico always did.

Jazz always told me no matter what, if I didn't know what to do, just watch Uncle Rico and do exactly what he did. So I started practicing being like him around the house. I would follow him around and stand like him, walk like him, talk like him. Everything. Jazz would get mad when I cursed, but every other word out of Rico's mouth was "f" so if I was going to talk like him, I had to say "f" all the time, too.

Rico thought it was funny. But it also made him proud when I flipped following in his footsteps into getting my own respect from my uncles, and started getting recognized on the block. Even more than that, people started hearing about me all over town.

Just like Rico.

After a while everyone started calling me Little Rico, not just Rico and Remmey. So many people started relating me to Rico instead of daddy, that a few people actually started thinking that my name was "La'Rico," and that I was Rico's son. And that's exactly how they said it around my way, too. Real fast "La'Rico." Eventually, it was like Kenney was all the way gone and this new kid "Little Rico...Lil Rico...La'Rico" had taken his place. I did everything just like Rico. Everything but hit Jazz. He would hurt her all the time, and I knew that wasn't right. Really, I knew that everything we were doing wasn't right, but it was really messed up the way Rico treated Aunt Jazz. I knew if I ever had a wife, I would never treat her like that. I would take care of her and love her, like daddy did mama. I may have been Little Rico by then, but I was also still a Duvalle man. I never lost that part of me.

Other than hitting girls and having too many girlfriends, though, I did everything exactly like Rico. If Jazz caught me slippin' or saw me looking weak or scared, even with Rico, she would pull me to the side and say "Soldier up, nephew. Fear no one. No one. Not even me or Rico. Not your mama, nobody."

Rico was real tall, like daddy, but I was getting close to Jazz's height. She didn't have to stoop down so low to look me in the eye anymore. She would lean in real close instead now, so that we were nose to nose, and would look me dead in my eyes. All the way through to the back of my head, like she always did, and put her hands on my shoulders.

"Nephew, you fall in line with Rico like the soldier we're training you to be, but you don't let anyone shake you. Never back down first. From anyone. The only way you're gonna survive with us is if you stay strong, like Rico. Never fold or back down from anything, no matter what. People have to respect you, like they do your uncles. Otherwise you cost us money, and none of us eat. Do you want your mama and Charity to be hungry?"

Of course she knew that was the last thing I wanted. And she would be dead serious about it, too. Because it was serious. And it was the truth. Mama and Charity wouldn't eat without me, and I knew that as soon as Sammy died. Mama was never the same after Sammy died. So I never argued with Aunt Jazz when she threw that question at me. I never got mad, and I never did resent it. I would just shake my head no and stare back at her, because she would get pissed if I looked away from anyone first.

Even when I looked away from her.

"Well get it together then, son. I want you to live, and I want us all to eat. You hear me?"

I would always just say "Yes Aunt Jazz, I hear you," and maintain eye contact with her.

Because I did hear her.

Loud and clear.

"What's the plan, son?"

"Be a man and feed my family."

"How?"

"You and Rico will help me get money."

That was the question every time, and that was always the answer. The plan never changed. It didn't have to. I was one hundred percent down for feeding my family.

One hundred percent down.  

After a few more hours of drilling the family business and family protocol into my head, when she thought I was ready, Aunt Jazz would send me back out to Rico. Every time, it was the same exact drill until one day, I realized that I wasn't scared anymore. And I could give myself that talk now. Rico didn't have to keep sending me back to Jazz anymore. And I never slipped up anymore. People didn't think I was a weak, pitiful kid without a daddy anymore.

They thought I was a dangerous, grown ass man.

And if you want to know the truth, by the time they started thinking that, they were right. I wasn't a kid anymore.

I was a soldier.

And I was dangerous.

And you didn't want to fuck with me.

Or mine.

At all.