Once when I was a kid, I was riding in this old blue pick up truck with my mom’s former boyfriend, Chico.  From the beginning of his relationship with my mother, Chico took to me like I was his blood son.  Even after they were no longer together he would pick me up and take me out to his job sites and let me earn a little money.  So on this particular day we were working on a fence in this well-off neighborhood in VA Beach–an area where a truck like his would look out of place.  As we were driving back to the site, these teenagers pulled up beside us and started screaming and calling his truck a piece of junk.

Now, I loved Chico.  I still love Chico.  So when those boys screamed at him something ignited in me.  I could feel myself focusing my sights directly on…