Free Alfonzo by S. W. Frank

and arrest him. Yet, t he police never came.
    Alfonzo n ever told anyone about what occurred , not even his cousin Domingo. The experience hardened his soul. His fierce reputation grew as did the reckless disregard for his own life. Somewhere , deep inside he wanted to get caught and pay for his crime but the police w eren’t interested in catching the killer. Another unsolved murder in the ‘hood. No big-deal, right?
    On the street they called him l ocos los ojos azules , crazy blue eyes.
    His heart grew colder, his actions bolder. He sold drugs, amassed loads of cash, built an illegal business which afforded him to move his mom into a nice place and eventually branch out on his own. He was never happy, though. The thirteen year-old boy never healed from the trauma. Abuela once made him promise to go to college and when she passed a few years ago he did just that. His SAT scores were enough to get him into Columbia University. He did well in business and finance courses and eventually earned his degree. The fascination with business prompted him to continue his studies and last year he received a Master’s Degree simply because he wanted to prove to himself he was as good as or better than most of the gringo and Asian kids whose parents were footing the bill. Meanwhile the smart capable Latino and black students were busting their asses working to pay tuition or going through hassles with financial aid every semester. This one black dude Samson was a genius in math, he aced every course but his financial aid got cut because he got arrested for drug possession over summer vacation. The dude was pissed after he tried to register for the fall semester and was informed about it. Alfonzo saw him outside of school and he vented about the injustice of the situation and Alfonzo agreed then said, “ Mira hombre , let me pay for your tuition.”
    Samson was skeptical, “ Yo , I appreciate it man but I can’t accept it.”
    “Why not? The government got you on lockdown; this is your last year.” Alfonzo put a fist to his chest, “ On my word, you owe me nothing… nada… ”
    “Why you want to do this…for me?”
    Alfonzo was blunt, “Because hombre our people get few breaks in life and I want to even the fucking playing field, tú sabe ?”
    Samson caved. He wanted his degree. He had ambitions to get a job down on Wall Street and you know what? The dude is raking in stacks at Merrill Lynch. He is also the same guy who made Alfonzo a sizable return in the stock market. There are times when he thinks about the trade-off and smirks. Paying a year of tuition for Samson was one of the best investments he made.
    The college experience assisted in broaden ing his horizons, he met many diverse people and learned a lot about himself. For starters, to be respectable he needed to open a legitimate business. The illegal drug trade, although lucrative was also a deadly one. The retirement package often consisted of a bullet and a grave from a ruthless competitor. He opened a real estate investment company, a legitimate company with five employees uptown. He paid taxes, the whole bit and provided jobs to people in the neighborhood searching for opportunity. People willing to learn and earn.
    His legitimate real estate ventures far exceeded profits from any illegal business and with a combination of stock s and real estate investments he was becoming a wealthy young man. The drug business had become second tier. His desire to get out and how to do it was the reason he wanted to talk to uncle. Th is is why he’ d been so damn conflicted. He sought a way to transition from the old Alfonzo to a newer version but the old continued its hold. Each time he took a step forward the life jerked him backward.
    Damn Tio…man I fucking miss you!
    The girl Selange was on his mind , a lot lately . He worried about her being way out there on Long Island with her flighty friend Shanda as a roommate. He offered her to stay longer at his place, no