dream'in

I have the same dream about every other month:
It is the last day of the second grade. I walk out of school and my dad is there waiting for me. I’m so happy and surprised. We walk over to Manuel’s corner store in Blumberg Park and get ice cream. It is the best time ever; me and my dad. We begin to walk home and are about four blocks away from the crib when they drive by…
I see the fear jump into his eyes when he sees the car make the U-turn. I can feel that he wants to run, but he can’t leave me there. The car comes to a screeching halt in front of us and three young men jump out. Two of them are carrying bats; the other has a knife with a big blade. The one with the knife speaks; “What’s hapn’in Frank?”
Dad just steps in front of me.
“Herple been look’in for you Frank.”
“Tell Herple that I got his money at the house.”
“He said that you was gonna say that. He told me to tell you that he’s sick and tired of wait’in on you and he ain’t gon wait on yo ass no more.”
He holds the knife in dad’s face and turns and smiles at me; the sun is sparkling off of the diamond in his mouth.
Dad punches dude with the diamond in his nose and pushes me toward the curb.
As dude falls back holding his face dad turnes to me and yells, “Run son!!!”
I take two steps backwards and turn to run into a wall; there are four of them. I guess the fourth dude had been following dad on foot. He wraps his python like arm around my neck and lifts me off of the ground, “You ain’t go’in nowhere little nigga!”
Dad doesn’t move a step; he just turns and faces the other three. Dude with the knife is bleeding from his nose while still flashing his diamond smile, “Why did you have to go and do that Frank? Now I gotta have my hommies fuck you up!”
He pulls a red bandanna out of his back pocket and wipes his bloody nose. He motions to the two batters and says, “Let’s get this over wid.”
Dad runs up on one of the dudes with the bats and catches him with a hard left to the jaw; dude goes down hard. As dad turns to where he thinks the other one is, the bat meets the back of his head, dad goes down. By this time, dude that’s holding me has lowered me to the ground but I can’t move. He just holds me there and makes me watch as the other one with the bat beats the grey out of dad’s head.
It turns out that they beat my dad to death over a fuck’in dice game…
I am always in the process of using my bare hands to scoop up dad’s brains when I wake up.