Jacob stood on the corner of 63rd and Ellis, the late August heat simmering off the concrete, his eyes darting back and forth across the street. It was just another day for Jacob, where sirens were the soundtrack of his life and danger lurked around every corner. The air was thick and humid, the kind that made the city feel like it was breathing down your neck. He leaned against the brick wall of a bodega, his hands shoved deep into his pockets, waiting for his next customer.
His eyes scanned the street out of habit, watching for anything out of place. It was a survival instinct he'd honed over the years. You never knew who might be watching, or worse, plotting.
His phone buzzed in his pocket, the screen lighting up with an unfamiliar number. "Yo, what up?" he answered, expecting it to be one of the boys using a burner or a customer.
A soft, trembling voice replied, "Jacob… it's Mrs. Will."
Jacob's heart skipped a beat. The corner, the heat, the tension—it all melted away in an instant.
"Mrs. Will?" His voice softened as he stood up straighter, suddenly alert. "Everything okay Mrs. Will?"
There was a pause, and he heard a strained sigh. "No, Jacob... Mr. Will passed away this morning. The cancer—" Her voice cracked, and Jacob's chest tightened. "It finally took him."
The world around him blurred. Jacob's breath caught in his throat. "Nah, nah, you gotta be kidding me," he mumbled, his voice thick with disbelief. "He… he never told me it was that bad."
"He didn't want you to worry, honey," she continued, her voice wavering. "But he loved you like the son he never had. He always hoped you'd find your way."
Jacob felt a lump in his throat, a knot tightening in his chest. "When's the funeral?" he asked, his voice barely more than a whisper.
"Tomorrow, at St. Mary's," Mrs. Will replied softly. "He'd want you there. I know he would."
"I'll be there," Jacob promised before hanging up. He stood there, staring at his phone, his mind racing. Mr. Will was a person who had been more than just a teacher for Jacob; he was the closest thing Jacob ever had to a father. He had always warned Jacob about where his life was headed, had always tried to guide him away from the streets and into something better. And now, he was gone.
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The next day, Jacob found himself at St. Mary's, dressed in his only formal shirt —a simple, faded button-down that didn't quite fit right anymore, standing at the back of a small crowd. The scent of lilies mixed with the smell of rain, and he felt a hollow emptiness in his chest as he watched Mr. Will's casket lowered into the ground. Tears burned at the corners of his eyes, but he blinked them away, determined not to let them fall. He hadn't cried in years, not since his mother passed away. He'd promised himself he wouldn't cry again. Crying didn't solve anything. It didn't bring anyone back.
As the service ended, people began to scatter, offering Mrs. Will their condolences. Jacob lingered near the back, unsure if he should approach her. But before he could decide, she came to him
She was a small woman, about five feet tall, with skin the color of deep mahogany, pure silver hair in braids and eyes that shone with the kind of wisdom age grants. She was wearing a pure black mourning gown. Even as she grieved her husband, there was something unbreakable about her.
Mrs. Will approached him, her face lined with grief but her eyes still holding a flicker of kindness. "Jacob," she said gently, placing a hand on his arm, "he loved you so much. He always said you were special, even if you didn't see it."
Jacob nodded, unsure of what to say. He'd never been good with words, especially not at times like this. But Mrs. Will wasn't done.
She handed him a folded piece of paper, and he opened it, his fingers trembling. It was a letter, written in Mr. Will's familiar handwriting: "Jacob, life ain't been easy for you, I know. But you've got a good heart, a strong spirit. Don't let this world harden you. You have the power to choose who you become, every single day. Keep your principles, no matter what. I'm proud of you, my boy. Always remember that. — Mr. Will."
The words blurred before his eyes as Jacob's eyes filled with tears. He tried to blink them away, but it was no use. Hot, stinging tears rolled down his cheeks, and this time, he didn't bother wiping them away. He let them fall on the ground mixing in with the dirt.
"Thank you, Mrs. Will," he managed to say, his voice thick with emotion. "If there's ever anything you need… anything at all, just ask."
Mrs. Will, with a mischievous grin on her face, responded, "An extra million dollars never hurt anyone."
Jacob was speechless and seeing his expression Mrs. Will couldn't help but chuckle.
With a soft smile she reached into her purse. "You're a good boy, Jacob. He always saw that in you, and he wanted you to have a little something else." She handed him another piece of paper, this one was rectangular shaped and a small ring-like object. "Look at the paper first," she instructed, a knowing smile on her lips.
He unfolded it and his eyes widened. "Twenty thousand dollars?" he stuttered, his heart racing. "What… what is this for?"
Mrs. Will chuckled softly. "It's from his life insurance policy. After paying for the funeral, there was still a decent amount left over. He wanted you to have a chance… to get out of this life."
Jacob hesitated, then pushed the check back towards her. "I can't accept this. It ain't right… I know y'all weren't the richest folks. You and Mr.Will have done too much for me already. I can't take what you might need."
She gently pushed his hand away. "Jacob, we were happy, content. And I have more than enough to live on. This is for you. You deserve it. He believed in you, and so do I."
She waved casually. "And don't worry about me. I have enough from his pension to take care of myself, and I'm even planning to travel a bit. He would've wanted that."
He nodded begrudgingly, but he knew better than anyone how much he and his family needed this. Even though he hated owing anyone and would not have accepted it from anyone else, he understood that Mrs. Will and Mr. Will genuinely wanted him to take it. He knew she would not take no for an answer.
He put the check carefully in his pockets and glanced down at the ring she had also handed him. It was a simple silver band with crude symbols etched along its surface, almost like runes. He turned it over in his hand, feeling its weight. "What's this?" he asked, trying to focus on anything but the lump in his throat.
Mrs. Will smiled gently. "This is Mr. Will's family heirloom. It has quite a story. One of his ancestors found it a few generations ago. A meteor had landed in a field where the ancestor was traveling, creating a large crater. When he went to investigate, supposedly this was the only thing left in the crater. He believed it was special and decided to make it a family heirloom. Mr. Will always felt there was something more to it, but he never quite figured out what."
Jacob was astonished by the story and asked, "If it's a family heirloom why give it to me?"
Mrs. Will looked up at the sky, her voice tinged with sadness. 'Thomas's father had only one child, and we were never able to have children ourselves. We've always considered you as our own, so it felt only natural to pass it on to you.'"
Jacob slipped the ring into his pocket, the strange symbols lingering in his mind. "Thank you," he said quietly, his heart heavy.
He approached Mr's Will and gave her a strong embrace not wanting to let her go.
Mrs.Will softly coughed, "Boy are you trying to crush these old bones using all that strength. Don't send me to meet Thomas too soon now."
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After the funeral, Jacob said goodbye to Mrs.Will who still had some tasks to attend to. He needed to clear his head. so he met up with his friend Drew, who was waiting for him with a blunt already rolled. "Let's smoke, man," Drew said with a grin.
Jacob nodded, trying to push away the day's emotions. As they smoked, Drew's eyes were sharp, watching him closely. "So, what you gonna do with that money?" Drew asked, trying to sound casual.
Jacob shrugged. "I dunno yet. Thinking about getting my GED, maybe learning a trade. I wanna get outta this, you know?"
Drew's smile faltered for a moment, but he quickly recovered. "Man, you could flip that money, make it a real come-up. Move some product, double it up easy."
Jacob shook his head. "Nah, I'm done with that, Drew. I don't wanna be pushing drugs forever. I'm tired of it… but I'm still down for the gang, for my brothers." He looked Drew in the eyes. "But I'm done with the street shit."
Drew laughed awkwardly, sounding forced. "Yeah, yeah, I get it… whatever you say, man."
But there was a glint in Drew's eyes that Jacob didn't catch, a flicker of something dark.
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Later that day, Jacob drove through the familiar rundown streets in his old, beat-up sedan, heading home. As he pulled up to the apartment, the sound of a little voice shouting "Daddy!" filled the air. Jacob's heart swelled as Ava, his 4-year-old daughter, came running toward him with her short braids bouncing, the colorful beads at the ends clicking together. Her chestnut skin gleamed in the setting sun, her round cheeks still full of baby fat. She was his world, the reason he didn't fall completely into the darkness and destruction around him like so many others.
He bent down and scooped her up into his arms, her laughter ringing out like music. "How's my baby girl today?" he asked with a wide smile, kissing her on the forehead.
Ava grinned, her big brown eyes sparkling. "I learned a new song at school, Daddy! Wanna hear?"
"Of course, I wanna hear. Later, okay? After we get some food in ya."
Behind her, his girlfriend Lora approached, walking with that tired-but-determined stride she always had. She wasn't tall, maybe 5'4", with bronze skin a shade lighter than Jacob's, her box braids pulled into a loose bun at the back of her head. There was a grace and silent beauty to her, even though life hadn't been kind. She worked long hours at a dead-end retail job, barely scraping by, but she still managed to keep their small one-bedroom apartment clean, turning it into a home despite the peeling paint and cracked walls.
Lora smiled at him, though her eyes carried the weight of the world. "Long day?" she asked, her voice soft.
"Yeah, something like that." He leaned down and kissed her, the familiar scent of her cheap perfume wrapping around him like a comforting blanket.
As they got into the car, Jacob glanced at them in the rear-view mirror—his whole world sitting in the backseat of that old, run-down car. Ava was busy watching cartoons on his phone, the bright colors reflecting off her wide-eyed face. Lora sat beside him, resting her head against the window. For a brief moment, Jacob felt like everything was right, like he could actually make something better for them.
He drove them to a fast-food joint, the old car rattling with every bump. As they sat in the drive-thru line, Ava chattered about her day at school, her small voice filling the car with light and warmth.
When they reached the window, he ordered a kid's meal for Ava and a couple of burgers for him and Lora to share. "Here you go, baby," he said, handing Ava her food. "You can put on your headphones and continue watching your cartoons, alright?"
Ava nodded eagerly, already munching on fries.
He turned to Lora, his eyes shadowed with the weight of the news. His brow was furrowed, and the corners of his mouth were turned down in a frown. His gaze was distant, as if he was struggling to find the right words. "I gotta tell you something," he began, his voice cracking slightly. "Mr. Will passed away… the funeral was today."
Lora's face fell as she processed the news. "Oh my God, Jacob, why didn't you tell me?"
Jacob's shoulders slumped, and he looked away, his voice thick with sadness. "Mrs. Will didn't want Ava to know. She always saw him as her grandpa, and Mrs. Will didn't want her to be sad. It was kinda sudden… she only told me yesterday."
He paused, the weight of the day's events pressing heavily on him. His eyes, usually so resolute and fierce, were now clouded with grief and exhaustion. The corners of his mouth turned down, and he struggled to keep his voice steady. The loss of Mr. Will had hit him hard, and the reality of saying goodbye was still settling in. Each word felt like a heavy burden, and the fatigue from the emotional strain was evident in the way he spoke. He glanced at Lora, searching for solace, feeling the ache of the day's emotional toll.
Lora nodded slowly, her eyes reflecting a mixture of sympathy and concern. The lines of her face softened with understanding, but there was a trace of sadness lingering in her gaze. "I get it…" she said softly, her voice tinged with an empathetic warmth. She reached out to gently squeeze Jacob's hand, a gesture of comfort and connection in the midst of his sorrow. "What are you gonna do now?" she asked, her voice carrying a hint of vulnerability, as if she were bracing herself for the answer that would shape their future.
Jacob took a deep breath. " She gave me a check for 20 thousand dollars from Mr.Wills life insurance. I'm thinking… I wanna get my GED, maybe learn a trade. Start fresh."
Lora's eyes widened in disbelief as Jacob mentioned the $20,000 check. Her breath caught for a moment, and her gaze fixed on him with a mixture of astonishment and hope.
Lora reached over, squeezing his hand. "I think that's a good idea, Jacob. You're better than this life. You always have been."
Jacob smiled, feeling a warmth in his chest. For the first time in a long time, he felt like he was moving toward something better.