“What?” his mother shouted.

“Not cool going to jail,” Aaron said and sat down next to Tara, who was now lounging on a blue blanket, her hand, decorated with black nails, cradling the mound that was her baby.

“Hear what he says? Going to jail ain’t cool.”

“That’s what the song’s about. Waste of time and hard. I learned I didn’t wanna go back. Learned that you gotta know who you loyal to. Can’t be loyal to homies ain’t loyal to you and you don’t know that till life plays them hard, till push comes to shove.” Aaron leaned back on one elbow. “Learned, I guess, free air too sweet to forfeit. This my life, my one and only, and I don’t wanna waste a bit of my time locked in a nine-by-six.” He looked at Tara lying on the blanket, her belly announcing her pregnancy. “I want to be around to take care of my minime and see where my music goes.”

I didn’t know what to think. No question Aaron seemed to be serious about his life and devoted to Tara. No question he was focused. I could feel the love, affection, and respect between them.

“Look, Momma.” Sonny’s face tilted up. Imperceptibly, night became complete. Stars lavishly spangled the black sky. A hush fell over us as we gazed at the Milky Way, its diamonds exaggerated in their brilliance.

“People used to see figures in the stars—like kings and mermaids, gods and goddesses—and make up stories about them,” I said.

“I don’t see no people up there,” Sonny said. “I see a car.” He pointed to the sky, tracing the outline of a car. “See? And look. There’s a gun, think it a machine gun.”

“Yeah, looks like a semiautomatic.” Red Dog chuckled.

“What they doin’ up in that sky?” Sonny wondered.

“That’s Big Mickey’s BMW SUV up there and he ridin’ round looking for the dude that kill him, his lady, and his baby las’ year,” Red Dog suggested.

“That’s his Uzi, aimin’ at the city waitin’ for Big D,” Sonny added. “Gonna get him for the homies he smoked. Mickey’s still protectin’ his ’hood.”

“Protecting? Honey, none of them protecting a thing but their own banks. Look over there.” Sissy pointed to a star, turning her purple nail into an amethyst. “Know what I see? I see Martin Luther King giving his speech in 1963 right here in Detroit. See his hand held high? That’s the bright star right there.” Sissy’s finger jerked to another star. “What did he say? ‘We gonna march and bring a new day of freedom into being. Make the American dream a reality.’ He said that right here when I was a little girl. Momma took me to hear him, and there he is, up in our sky. Making sure it come true. And maybe, just maybe, it will.”