Just A Lil Bit More ...

When I turned to tell the kid he should go somewhere safe he’d already vanished like a guardian visitation. I couldn’t stay there much longer because someone might come out and become an eyewitness. I tucked the gun in my pocket, threw my terror filled body back outside, ran through backyards until I figured my way to the railroad tracks and hoped instincts would lead me to South Norwalk train station. They hit Bones four times. Twice in the ass, once in the back and once in the testicle not a good situation but sometimes karma strikes back as quick as a bitch. Bones told the cops some guys tried to stick him for his jewels, that I was an eyewitness to his attempted random victimization and where they could find me. His cooperative nature left me just enough time to stash the gun and change my clothes. The beast nonchalantly stomped their way up the porch with super bright flashlights and confirmed the decision to go home as a bad one. They asked so many questions. I didn’t know what to say and wasn’t too sure what really happened. I honestly had no idea where those guys came from or why they rolled us.

I’d only been inside the Norwalk Police Station once before with my after-school program. The interrogation room was much brighter than I imagined it would be. On TV they’re always darker and greener. The cops knew from jump I was in way over my head. They each spoke in a smooth and assured tone about how it would’ve been shameful for my father to lose his oldest son on some back street after all the good he’d done in the community. When they were done the taller of the two placed his hand on my shoulder, reminded me again to do the right thing and slid a pad in front of me for my written version of the night’s events. But I was way too scared to write anything and simply repeated I had no idea what happened nor did I know any of the people involved and basically was just in the wrong place at the wrong time. A huge rookie mistake, which left me open to gross exaggeration when they questioned Bones again. For the rest of my traumatized night they showed me pictures of places I’d been, people I had hung out with and smugly reminded me whomever threw shots might try again. It felt like they questioned me for six hours before they politely drove me back to my block in the front seat and placed a down payment on my casket.

Just A Lil Bit ...

I should have closed up shop right there because last time I saw him all this zigzag drama started. We already smoked a few godfather blunts that night when Bones pulled out some sniff. James and I created this Stand By Me type pack not to experiment with a new drug without each other (sounds corny, I know). But when James untucked his gun and did lines with the rest of them like I missed the department memo I thought I shitted on myself. I was so sincerely terrified that none of what I sniffed provided the Superman sensations I prayed for. That’s the same night Bones threw a gun in some winos mouth just to see if he would piss himself. “What the fuck your corny ass talking about, nigga? Been here all day, yo”, I didn’t bother to watch him as he walked up the steps with his usual forty of Crazy Horse. “Whatever nigga, I need you to come with me somewhere.” I took a few quick puffs from the L, grabbed a hoodie and followed him to the car without a question. When I saw Casper at the wheel I nearly vomited. Bones’ face turned dark and I swore smoke floated around his head like Mysterio before little devil horns popped out, “We going to see Earl, that bitch nigga still owe me some money. Take this shit. It’s all set you just have to take it off safety.” It was a chrome .25 caliber, a small little shit. It’s not like I never held a gun before, I fucked around and bucked off on rooftops and shit like anyone else. But this situation was a bit more than some reckless rooftop shit he wanted me to shoot Earl. Earl’s family lived on the other side of Marlin Drive. Every summer we both went to Carver for camp and had an epic still unresolved foursquare dual back in seventh grade. When Earl showed up on the block, like Fredo I rolled with because I wanted show him a good time but Earl had debts and enemies, “You know I grew up with Earl right? What the fuck, Bones his parents are friends with mine … ”, his head whipped around so fast I thought it was on a swivel. The dark brown vessels, which covered the white in his eyes blended with his dark brown pupils and made the backseat feel like total darkness. “Because I don’t believe you, D. I don’t know why you out here, but we”, he made eye contact with Casper and they nodded in agreement, “making sure you ain’t leaving. Now you shoot this nigga or this 12 gauge and me are gonna light your fucking ass up. Best believe that, my nigga.” He was on some evil shit. Fear and frustration told my imagination I could shoot them both dead but the gun felt wet and heavy in my sweaty palm puddles. They had me out of state lost every time we turned another corner. I wanted to stay quiet enough to disappear but the caked on smell of nicotine and weed choked out a cough when I wiped my sweaty nose. Casper crept his brown hooptie slowly beside a huge, mangled yard bush next to the driveway and cut the headlights. The dingy one-story house had shadowy outlines that moved like animation on the front window shade, I sighed a short prayer and started out the car. Divine providence answered in the form of five niggaz with murderous intentions packed deep in a metallic blue, four-door Chrysler. “Get the fuck outta car!!” They jumped out like the A Team with guns pointed sideways “Get on the ground. Face down!!” I recognized the faces but struggled to decide if they were friend or foe when the situation, “All of you” went from danger with few options to death flavored danger. My self-preservation forces were down because I entertained his order for a flash.

“POP, POP-POP, POP, POP, POP”.

It didn’t sound anything like in the movies or on TV. That shit sounded like death. I noticed Bones started to run when they started to shoot. Bullets hit the ground and skidded the fuck wherever car alarms bleared and back windows exploded like we needed stunt doubles. I heard a flesh-thud, hot zip sound when the bullets hit Bones before he fell, “Fuck! Goddammit!! That fucking shit burns Aahhhh fuck nigga!” Sirens blared in surround sound like they staked out the backyard and I couldn’t think or feel. My body moved so fast it levitated off the ground to help me outrun a sinner appointment with Hell. A road sign gave off a reflective flash and broke my trance, which helped me think clearly. I slowed enough to hop a lawn fence in one motion, it seemed like a dream when some kid opened the door and motioned for me to come in and hide. Everything felt cinematic so without a thought I ran inside, crouched by the doorway and professionally fumbled for the gun. My hands shook so bad I almost shot myself, “Why the fuck did I get in that car!” Everything played in my head. How these two duded showed up one after the other. How nights like this had become more the norm than exception. Things had become way too hectic. My nerves were shit. A car backfire, a balloon pop or anything close to the sound of gunfire had my ass leaky.