The Food Desert

Dan and Jose came by one Friday with a man that wanted to talk to me. He was there to invite me to a private meeting with the City Commissioners. They had a proposition for me.

It seems the city had acquired a grocery store in a strip mall, by default, seized as part of a drug case. They wanted me to expand to a full-service store, and would sell me the store for fifty percent of its tax value, in exchange for a contract that I keep it open for five years. I got Ms. Chen in on it, and she told me I would be a fool to walk away from the deal.

"What do I do with the old store?"

"Anything you want. Think of something that would help the community, and I'm sure you'll get support. It's only three blocks away, so all your people can follow you. You know you need to hire a full-time manager, someone you can get on contract for a year or so to show you how to properly run the business, and you'll have to triple your workforce, at the very least."

I had a meeting at the store, telling them we were moving, but it was close by and they still had their job. Most were for it, but a couple wanted to know what I was going to do at the old location. "I don't know yet, but I don't want to close it. I'm open to any idea."

The move took five months. Some renovations were necessary, and hiring had to be done. I had nine hundred applications for thirty jobs. Alice had graduated, and I made her produce manager. Part of the deal was she only worked thirty hours, but got paid for forty eight, the time being spent in school while she got an associate degree in management. She had two more semesters to go.

Connie, as she liked to be called, was grocery manager, with the same deal as Alice. One of her responsibilities was to make sure all our advertisements were bilingual.

I hired a man in his sixties with an impressive resume, putting him on contract after his old company forced him out, at a very nice salary. I was so impressed at the end of his contract I gave him the option to stay, which he jumped all over. The fact that he was black was a boon to the business, because you didn't see a lot of white faces in the store. I didn't hire him because he was black, he was the best qualified person I could find, and I couldn't see a color on his resume.

The old store got yet another facelift, some additions to help the new business. I mentioned once to Grandma Greely how I missed my own grandmother's fried apple pies, and two days later she gave me a whole basket of apple pies, which the crew inhaled. I have to admit I hoarded back a few, eating all of them the same day, enduring her laugh at my stomachache. Grandma Vasquez, not to be outdone, made a <i>tres leches</i> cake. Soon the other grandmas got involved, from coconut pies to lemon pound cakes to raspberry bars.

I formed a co-op, got a man to guide them through breaks they could claim as a cottage industry, and opened a pastry cafe, complete with twenty tables inside and ten outside for use in good weather. The Grandmas still held court, having taught their recipes to their granddaughters and grandsons and putting them to work. There was very little trouble because there always seemed to be a cop around. They and any fireman, EMT, or other members of public service got the first piece free, the cost coming out of my share. After a year, we set up a commercial kitchen beside my grocery store, me being the only client. As I expanded they expanded, until I couldn't monopolize them anymore and they went countrywide, a bakery in every section of the country. I was the majority owner, but the original ladies got a share, and had become wealthy enough that EBT cards and social security were a thing of the past. I was pleased to see that even though they could afford to move into any section of the city, they stayed. It didn't stop them from buying nice homes in the neighborhoods and sprucing them up.

Chapter 9

One day a man in a nice suit came in and asked if I had a few minutes to spare. I thought he might be a salesman, but I had time, so we went into my office. He surprised me by pulling out a portfolio of my holdings, my stores, the bakeries, the pastry shop, showing how much they were worth. "You have a lot of money tied up in this section of the city, Mr. Moore. It would be a shame if something were to happen, say fires, vandalism, that sort of thing. I'm offering you an insurance policy here, a contract that would stop any of that from happening, and the cost is only fifteen per cent of everything, a bargain really. My employers require an answer in the next seven days. Think carefully before you decide."

"Is this an attempt at extortion?"

The man looked mildly amused. "Not at all. We are merely a protective service, to make sure no bad luck should befall you.

"At fifteen percent of my worth?"

"Well, the cost is a little higher than normal, but we guarantee our work."

"I see. I have partners, you know. I'll need to confer with them."

"Ah yes, a lovely bunch of ladies. All well advanced in years. Part of our services is health insurance. It would be a shame if something were to happen to one of them. Bones have a hard time healing as that age."

He looked surprised at my expression. "You shouldn't have done that. I can tell you my answer right now, Not no, but HELL NO! Take your slimy ass and crawl it back under the rock you usually hide under. Does the light of day hurt your eyes?"

He merely shrugged. "I urge you to think about it. Seven days."

I called Jose and Dan. I always taped my office conversations, for a variety of reasons, glad now I did. They ran his photo, and he came back as a low-level point-man for a branch of the local organized crime family.

"This is serious shit, amigo. He must have known he was being taped, because he never once made an outright threat. We need to get the task force on this, we've been hearing rumblings lately they were wanting to expand their turf. Might want to tell Miguel and Michael a shit storm is coming, the first thing they do is freeze the locals out."

I called them both after they left, through their grandmothers, saying that I had something serious going on that affected them, and we all needed to talk, the sooner the better. We met at the pastry shop the next night, after closing hours.

After our coffees and snacks, I told them what was going on.

"Look boys, I know what you do, how you make your money. I don't particularly like it, but if it wasn't you, it will be someone else. You've always been square with me, so I'm going to tell you what I know.

Something you might want to think about, in the future, is how many old gang leaders do you see? Your careers have a shelf life, and you might want to start thinking about exit strategies. Your life, though. I just don't want to sit with your grandmothers as you get sentenced to twenty years to life."

"That sermon over, what are you going to do? The cops know, and they sent word you guys need to get your ducks in a row and keep a low profile, if you can. I'm not bowing to those assholes. One thing you need to know. If I have to pay protection, I want to deal with family. I need a few guys from each of you to keep an eye on our businesses, and your families. And family comes first. If you see them getting ready to burn my stores down and get a message that your grandmothers are in danger, you let it burn and go to them, got it?"

I walked out, leaving their mouths hanging open.

Chapter 10

The man returned in seven days and was stunned to see Micheal, Miguel, Jose and Dan already there.

"When I got your offer, the first thing I did was consult my friends; after all, they have a lot more experience on these matters. The general consensus is that you may be right, but I like to hire local. So, thanks, but no thanks. Have a nice day, now."

His confidence had returned, and he smiled. "It's unfortunate that you refused our generous offer. But, I'm sure you think you know what is best for your families and company. I'll be leaving now."

He rose, but Dan surprised him. "Sit your ass back down, Slick. We got things to discuss. Your bosses run things based on returns. There's not going to be any profit here. It would be very expensive to try and change the neighborhood."

The man smiled. "May I?" he said, reaching into his briefcase and pulling out a folder. "Ah, here it is. Sgt. Dan Pettigrew. You live on Eighteenth Street, you have a lovely wife, she even looks like a librarian. A sexy librarian, if I may say so. You have a sixteen year old son, a whiz on the basketball court. College scouts are already looking at him. Oh, and a daughter in college. Vassar, I'm impressed. Even on a scholarship it must be tight. You know, college campuses have the highest incident of rape in the country. Some girls just disappear. And sports injuries are so common, anything could happen to end his college hopes. As for your wife, she...'

"You can stop right there," I said, as Dan's fingers were closing around his pistol grips, opening my own folder.

"Brian McCaulkey. A lawyer no less. Harvard, my turn to be impressed. You have a beautiful ex-wife and two daughters in Catholic school. Very attractive young women. You know how wild Catholic girls can get, especially when they're exposed to minorities, their urge to walk on the wild side can be overwhelming at times. Drugs, sex, damage to reputations, no chance to get into the really good schools when they look at their records. All kinds of repercussions. I think we've both made our points here. Touching a family member would result in mutual destruction on both sides. I think we should agree to disagree and never cross paths again."

He had gone from red to pale to red again. He rose, giving us a parting shot. "I'll tell my employers it might be wise to wait a few years before they approach you again, but they are very determined people. I urge you one more time to accept my offer."

Miguel exploded before anyone could stop him, jumping up and towering over the man. For the first time, I saw real fear on his face.

"Motherfucker, my grandma gets so much as a stumped toe, your daughters are going to get a shot of habanero sauce. Feel me motherfucker? As soon as me and my boys break them in I'll send you the video of them and their mother as I ship them off to an exciting career south of the border. Then I'll come after you. You're small, cute, dress you right and I could get a pretty good sissy price out of you. And I'll make sure your new Daddy is into discipline. Might want to start wearing a butt plug now, to get used to the idea."

That shook him pretty bad. He looked over at Michael, and Michael told him everything Miguel did would be light compared to what he had in mind.

"I won't touch you until I'm done with them, but I will be sending regular videos of how well their training is coming. When I have them completely broken in, I know a couple of pimps who would pay me top dollar for high end white bitches. Then I'll be coming after you, and I'll do what Miguel said, only there won't be any sweetheart moments. I'll sell you straight to some guys I know who are into rough trade. You'll be a pain-slut in less than a week, I guarantee it. And tell your boss he can't protect that fat hairy princess of a daughter, one of us will get her. We'd go after her mother, but she's already proven such a whore we can't think of anything to do to her she hasn't already tried. Does your boss know you're fucking her? You better use extra strength rubbers, bitch, or you'll get a gift that keeps on giving. One of the Brothers made sure of that. Consider it a down payment of what's coming."

The man was obviously shaken. He tried to say something but we pretty much shoved him out the door. Jose looked at me. "This on tape?"

"Nope. This is one conversation I thought needed to be private. He's threatened all of us. What do you want to do?"

We sat into the night, making an uneasy alliance. I got four guys, two from each gang, watching our businesses round the clock. I paid them, making it legitimate, as assistant managers. I even had the two obvious ones wear shirts with the store logos, and handle stock every one in a while. They understood after I explained.

"You just stand around, you get made. You put a few things on the shelves, carry some boxes, they write you off as employees. Lazy employees, but still workers."

One actually liked it enough to ask me for a job when this was over. I promised him if he did his part of the deal, that I would send him for training and assure him a position.

Both "clubs" sent me information through them, that I passed along to Jose, through his mother. I read in the papers a few days later a barbershop had been busted as a front for a bookie shop, and a whole warehouse of high-end stolen cars were found in containers, about to leave the country. According to the papers, they were tied to organized crime. Jose and Dan were both on their beat when it happened. I got a call from the lawyer.

"This your doing?"

"NO. I told you, you leave us alone, we leave you alone. I read about it in the paper and saw it on television like everyone else. Surely we aren't the only ones you've pissed off lately, are we?"

He hung up without another word.

Chapter 11

I'll give them points, they were serious people. I think they had to move on us to keep their reputation. A guy was caught trying to torch the bake shop, and he was found on the sidewalk of the restaurant they used as a cover, unconscious. Seems someone had set his crotch on fire. Rumor had it everything had to be amputated to save his life.

I think the lengths the boys went to shocked them. They hired a rival gang to do a drive-by on Miguel, but as soon as their car came into the neighborhood they were made, and when they came roaring up, automatic weapons sticking out the windows, blue lights started flashing. A guy in the car panicked, from what the report said, and opened fire. They counted three hundred bullet holes in their car later, all six occupants riddled like Swiss cheese.

They got to one of Michaels' guys, blowing him to bits. I sent over the food for the wake, the grandmothers furnishing the cakes. I shocked them all by paying for the funeral, insisting it be done right, and kept his mother in groceries for a year, giving the younger boys jobs to keep them off the streets. They went to Michael anyway, but he turned them down. "Stay straight, little brothers. This ain't over yet, and your momma don't need to lose any more sons."

Two weeks after the death Michael hit a butcher shop, killing a nephew of the boss and shooting the place to ribbons. War was rapidly escalating.

They tried to hit me, but I got lucky. One of my guards made him, and came to my office. "Got a hot one, boss. This guy look like he's shopping?"

I looked at the camera, noticing the way he looked around nervously, and how he held his hand under his jacket.

"This guy is an amateur, Cody. A professional would walk into the place like he owned it. Let's go see if he'll be reasonable."

I took the Bond, and held it down to my side, coming up behind him.

"Can I help you find something, sir?"

Like I said, amateur. A real pro would have said no thanks and walked out, aware he had been made. This guy turned around, dragging the pistol out of his pocket. He was incredibly slow, but didn't stop despite my warnings. I was too far away to trap his hand, so when the pistol finally cleared I gave him both barrels, center-mass. He was dead before he hit the ground.

I had the video tape to prove it was self-defense, and I only fired when it became apparent he wasn't surrendering, so it was an open and shut inquiry, reported as an armed robbery gone wrong.

Did I feel good about taking a life? No, not a bit. Could I have handled it better? Probably. I was pragmatic enough not to let it bother me too much.

Chapter 12

Enough was enough. The next day I was standing outside the restaurant when it opened. I was made instantly, but when a guy in a waiter suit came by and suggested I leave, as there was a private party in progress, I asked him to tell Mr. G the Grocery Man was there, and would like a few minutes of his time.

I was sweating bullets when the man came out and motioned me over to a table.

"You are full of surprises, Mr. Moore. The last thing I ever expected was for you to walk in the door today."

I sighed. "I came to see if I could get the killing to stop before it gets really bad. Those boys aren't going to give up anything without a fight. Neither am I. Your actions have focused attention on all involved. It might get uncomfortable for you, being under so much scrutiny. The last thing this city needs is another killing."

He didn't bat an eye. "Why are you telling me these things, things I already know?"

"I'm just clarifying positions. They won't give up without a fight. I won't give up without a fight. Will all the bloodshed be worth it? More importantly, will it result in greater profit? Despite how you conduct it, it's still a business. How profitable will it be when all the money is covered with blood?"

"You know it isn't that simple."

I rose. "It is to me. Well, I can say I tried. Think of your families, this will be an eye for an eye type of war. Lots of people will die, and the need for blood will never be quenched. Let's stop it now. It's only a very tiny part of this big city. Let it go."

I rose, thanked him for his time, and walked out the door. He called out to me just as I touched the handle.

"It's not up to me. I just give all the information I can to my bosses, then we run cost analyses, to make sure any action we take is profitable. This could get very expensive very fast, and expenses without returns are not good business, no matter what line of work you're in."

"So then, peace?"

"No. Truce. If my people don't take my suggestions, we will proceed. If they do, then we have peace, at least for a little while. It's the best I can do."

I walked back over and stuck my hand out. He seemed surprised, but took it after a few seconds. His grip was firm without being overpowering, a good sign. Too strong meant aggression and an attempt at dominance, too soft and it made you suspect their sincerity. A brief, firm shake meant he acknowledged you as an equal and someone worthy of respect.

I told Miguel and Michael the war was on hold, and to try not to do anything that would spark it off again. I also passed along what Jose and Dan had told me.

"You're under the microscope now. The killings and violence have gotten the powers that be watching a little more closely, and the new DA and Mayor both got elected on promises to make the city safer and reduce crime. Be careful.

And boys, if I hear anything, I might give you a call. If I were to say, for example, 'how's your Momma doing?' it means grab everything you can and disappear because they're coming for you. Might want to make sure you have liquid assets available, just in case."

I think they were both stunned. They never really answered, just nodded.

The DA did try to make a circus out of the situation, bringing in a task force to deal with the problem. He even made a run at me, saying I was associated with the local criminal element. The community, thinking the store might close, and their jobs would be lost, raised hell to their local Councilman, making it really plain that if I was driven out he could kiss his political career goodbye. He was young and had his heart set on higher office, so he came out in support of me. We even did a press conference together.

He spoke, praising my accomplishments and involvement in the community. He even joked that if I could run on the ice cream ticket, he would be out of a job.

It started, just like most things in my life lately, by accident. Alice had a little sister that was struggling with school and needed encouragement. She was twelve, and came to work with Alice one day out of boredom. We ended up talking, and I pointed out to her how much education meant to Alice. She was set to receive her two year degree in three weeks, and wanted to continue schooling. I helped her check into scholarships for disadvantaged youth, and it looked like I was going to lose a manager, at least for a couple of years. She was hoping to attend one of the three local colleges and still work part time.