Cadillac Callejero stood outside the front entrance, looking at a row of bullet holes scattered around the door of the closed-down daycare. Graffiti covered the cartoon animals painted on the walls and the boarded-up windows. Splinters lay on the steps.
“Everybody walks past a door like this and has an opinion,” he said to nobody. “The people who were behind it got a different one.” He wiped the dust off his thumb. “You can read about it. You can watch the movie. You can put the gear on and play make-believe. Real only comes from living it, homie. There ain’t another place to get it.”
He shook his head.
“Take Dick.”
“Man showed up in my neighborhood in a cholo costume. Hid in my trunk. Hid under a cardboard box. His day job is being somebody else. Makes you wonder if there’s anything left of the person underneath.”
He glanced back at the daycare.
“Then we got this other foo' walking around dressed like a fucking feline. Apparently, he’s got some inheritance coming because of a cat.” He chuckled. “Man, I swear to God, this place gets weirder every week.”
“I earned my keep through hard work and getting shit done in East Los. Spent my whole fucking life becoming El Rey de la Calle, and here’s this foo' Mildred waiting for someone to hand him a fortune because he thinks he’s entitled to it.”
“That’s why I can’t fuck with y’all.”
Cadillac paused.
“I look around this company and everybody’s got some story about who they’re supposed to be. Everybody’s hiding something, and they all got a damn good reason for it. Meanwhile, here I am, telling you motherfuckers exactly who I am, and what the fuck has that gotten me? I ain’t won a damn thing on my own.”
“But ain’t nobody crying for me. Ain’t got a damn thing going for me, but I’m still fucking here, homie. One foo' let his flowers wilt. Another gave up the ghost. Then another foo' put his sword down and left without a trace.”
“I’ve thought about walking away. Shit, plenty of times. But then I’d have to live with knowing I quit. And I ain’t giving any one of y’all that satisfaction.”
“That’s real. That’s what real looks like when it ain’t winning.”
“Both of y’all walk in like somebody owes you something. Dick’s got all the fucking gadgets and disguises money can buy. Mildred’s got a dead lady’s money and all the privileges that come with it. At Hail to the King, ain’t nobody coming through those ropes with a check. There’s not enough money in the world to save you.”
Cadillac turned toward the bullet holes in the daycare entrance and nodded toward the splintered door.
“Somebody inside that building shot at the street. Whatever was coming through that door, they decided it wasn't getting any farther.”
He straightened his mask.
“When shit gets real, are either of you willing to remain who you claim to be? Guess we're gonna find out at Hail to the King.”
Cadillac ran his thumb across one of the splintered edges.
“Because I already know who the fuck I am.”