Chapter Five

I tried to keep track of her; I remembered what my dad had said about her mom and her mom’s taste in men. I wanted to make sure she was okay. But I didn’t exactly have a smooth transition to prison life, and by the time I was allowed to write letters home, she’d disappeared. Mia had no idea what had happened to her, and no one in the neighborhood seemed to know either. Mia went by her house every so often, looking for her, but the guys she found there didn’t even know Letty’s mom had a kid. Every few months I’d get a letter, but they never said where she was, never even had a return address. Hell, I was lucky if they said anything more than “I’m okay,” scribbled on the back of a scrap of paper. I was worried about her.

Then, I got word they were letting me out early, a little less than two years into my sentence. About a month before I was supposed to get out, I got a letter from a guy named Leon Mitchell. The name sounded familiar, but I couldn’t quite place it. I had a feeling it was trouble, though, didn’t really want to open the letter. Wished I hadn’t, after I’d read it. I still have that letter somewhere.

“Dominic,

I hope you’re the Dominic Toretto who used to live at 1712 Getty Avenue. I’m writing about Letty. If you know her, call me at (323) 555-1734.

Leon Mitchell”

God, that scared me to death. I thought Letty was in trouble, big trouble. Turned out I was right.

I called Leon as soon as I could, which turned out to be two days later.

“This Leon?”

“Yeah.”

“It’s Dom. Dominic Toretto. You wrote.”

“You know Letty?”

“Yeah.”

“What’s her full name? Just to make sure, you know.”

I had to think about that for half a minute, never heard anyone call her anything but Letty. I remembered, though, when all of us went to the track to watch my dad race, she would doodle all over her program, practicing signing her name or something, some shit that little girls do, I guess. She never did that when it was just the two of us there, though; always too busy telling me about one thing or another, a regular blabbermouth. Almost like she was a different person when it was just the two of us. Or maybe I was different.

“Leticia. Leticia Gonzalez. No middle name.”

“Okay, good, good. One more question.”

“Why’re you being so careful about this, man?”

“Hey, Letty’s got enough trouble without me letting some random asshole who’s just about to get out of jail know all about her.”

“You could have a point. So what’s your question?”

“What’s her dream car?”

I had to laugh. “You do know it’s been nearly two years since I’ve seen her, right?”

“Don’t matter, her taste hasn’t changed.”

“Well then, has to be a Nissan 240 SX. One she could fix up herself. And then paint it some girly color.”

“That’s Letty.”

“So what’s up with her?”

“You know Sly?”

“Sly? No, I don’t think so. Who’s he?”

He laughed a little, to himself. “Sly’s the guy who just totaled my garage last weekend. Completely trashed five cars, did some minor damage to a few others, and put the word out that any car brought into my garage will get trashed, too. And then I had to tell everyone that since they signed a disclaimer when they brought their cars in, they have to pay to get the cars fixed themselves. That went over real well, lemme tell you. Especially with this one girl who’d just brought her car in to us for the first time. Thought I might’ve had a chance to hook up with her, until this shit happened. Now nobody will come in, I’m losing money like you wouldn’t believe. And, if the owner weren’t in jail, I’d prolly already be out of a job.”

"Sounds a bit extreme. What’d you do to this guy?”

Another barking laugh. “Nothing. Not a damn thing. Just took my little cousin Letty away from Hollywood Boulevard to try to protect her from him.”

Now, he’d gotten my attention back, and I finally realized why his name was familiar. Leon Mitchell - Letty’s cousin. Not that it made all that much difference to me who he was. Yeah, sucked about his garage, but I didn’t really care about that. Didn’t even really know this guy, so why should I care? But Letty? Her, I cared about, even if I didn’t want to show it.

“Protect her from him? What was he doing to her?” I asked. I didn’t even know who Sly was, but suddenly I wanted to find him and hurt him, badly. Especially if he’d done anything to Letty. Even though I’d never really paid much attention to Letty, thought of her like an annoying kid sister most of the time, she’d become part of my family. And my family was the one thing I cared about, besides cars.

“Well, a while back, things got pretty ugly with her mom’s new boyfriend. She started staying away from home at night, hanging out on the streets. Eventually she ended up down on Hollywood Blvd. Got in with this group of girls. Angel, maybe you know her?”

I had to think about it for a minute, but yeah, I knew Angel. She was a few years older than me, used to live in the neighborhood until she got hooked on crack when she was around eighteen or so. Last I’d heard anything about her, Vince had seen her working Hollywood Blvd. I couldn’t imagine what Letty would be doing hanging out with her, though. I remember thinking to myself, ‘If that girl’s gotten herself hooked on drugs and is out selling her body to pay for her habit, she’s going to have worse things than this Sly guy to worry about after I get out.’ I was not about to just sit back and watch Letty fuck up her life like I’d fucked up mine.

“Yeah, I know Angel,” I finally replied.

I guess Leon could hear the anger in my voice, because he hurriedly continued. “Well, Angel used to baby-sit Letty a long time ago. And when she saw Letty out on the streets, I guess she took her in again. To try and protect her, or something. Anyways, eventually Letty’s mom heard about it and dragged Letty back home. But the next day, something happened between Letty and her mom’s boyfriend. He hit her…did some other stuff to her too, I think. I don’t know what, exactly, she won’t talk about it, but it was something bad. Letty left again, went back to the streets and back to Angel. Eventually, Angel’s pimp noticed Letty. That’s Sly. He’s a nasty son of a bitch, and he’s determined to get Letty working for him. He used to harass her all the time, when she lived with my mom. Followed her home, hung out in the front yard all the time…shit like that. That’s why Letty came to stay with me in the first place. I guess he finally figured out where she’d gone to a couple weeks ago. Started calling my house, hanging around outside, following her to school...same shit he’d done before. Then, last weekend, he broke into the garage, trashed the cars. Left a message on the answering machine saying that if Letty didn’t go along with his plans for her he’d go to my mom’s house next, do the same, but to her.”

“Damn… So what can I do?”

“Well, obviously I’m not gonna just hand Letty over to him. Not that she’d let me do that, anyways.”

“Yeah,” I laughed, interrupting, remembering the dark stares Letty used to give most everyone outside of our little group. “She always was a pretty tough little girl.”

“Right,” Leon replied, laughing a bit as well. Obviously he had some similar memories of Letty. “But then again, she’s had to be pretty tough just to survive. Her life hasn’t been easy."

“Yeah, I can tell,” was all I could say to that.

“I try to look out for her, but I’m only one person, you know? There’s only so much I can do. Especially now that the garage’s trashed. No one will bring their cars to me anymore. Things keep going like this and pretty soon I’m gonna have to find another job, have to pay the rent and all. I can’t protect Letty and do that at the same time. And she doesn’t help any, acts like she’s invincible, like no one can hurt her.”

I cut him off, already seeing where he was going. “When I get out, you won’t have to worry about a thing. I’ll help you look out for her. Give me a few months to get back into racing, and your garage will even be back in business.”

“Well, that’d be great…but I can’t really wait another three years for you to get out. Just thought maybe you could suggest someone to help me keep an eye on Letty. Wouldn’t want you bustin’ out of jail or nothing…”

“Oh don’t worry, they’re letting me out in a few weeks. Good behavior or some shit like that. Besides, I’m not gonna do anything that would end me up back in this place,” I replied, very aware of the guards listening in. I knew they’d just love to find an excuse to keep me in prison for a while longer. In case anyone monitoring the phone call began to think I wasn’t quite rehabilitated yet, I quickly changed the subject. “So, Leon. You race?”

“Me? Nah, man. I just work on the cars,” he replied, apparently not at all concerned at the sudden change in topic.

“How come?”

“I’m a perfectionist, man. I don’t want to race anything but the best.”

“And what do you think the best is?”

“Skyline.”

I nodded in understanding, as if he could see as well as hear me. “Takes a lot of cash to race a car like that.”

“Yeah, man, it does,” Leon replied, laughing. “One of these days I’ll have enough saved up, though.”

Noticing Barnett, one of the guards, eyeing me, I quickly ended the conversation. “Hey, man, I gotta go. I’ll catch up with you after I get home.”

“Cool, dawg. Thanks for your help.”