Streets of New York. Mark Anthony

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СКАЧАТЬ it going?” the officer asked.

      “Everything’s good,” Grams replied. He didn’t sound nervous.

      Even with my eyes closed, I could tell that the officer was shining her flashlight into the car. I tried my best to breathe very evenly but I was scared like a bitch! The cars whizzing by in the background created noise and I could barely hear the officer’s voice as she asked, “What’s with your friend over there?”

      “Just chill,” I whispered to myself, “and keep your eyes closed.”

      Grams responded perfectly, “Oh, he’s sleeping. We ate some McDonalds and it messed his stomach up so he’s sleeping it off.”

      There were McDonalds bags in the front of the truck so I knew that the officer might buy that line.

      “Do you know why I pulled you over?”

      “No, I don’t,” Grams replied with no attitude at all.

      “Your windows... The tint is too dark.”

      “Oh, yeah? I’m sorry about that, officer.”

      “Let me see your license, registration, and insurance please,” the cop asked.

      Grams complied with her wishes.

      “You guys weren’t drinking, were you?”

      “We wasn’t.”

      “Where are y’all headed this evening?” the officer asked.

      “Brooklyn.”

      “Okay, I’m just gonna check your information and write a summons for the windows then you can be on your way...”

      “Okay, officer.”

      “There’s no drugs or guns in the car, is there?”

      “We not into any of that,” Grams replied, sounding like a skilled actor. The officer walked away.

      “Promise she’s gone. But yo, you should sit up and act like you up. I think it would look more real when she comes back to the car.”

      I did exactly like Grams suggested. I desperately wanted everything to go good because aside from me being a wanted fugitive, we also had two guns in the car, duct tape, and a small amount of weed.

      “Ah, shit!” Grams yelled.

      “What happened?”

      “Another trooper is pulling over. Why the fuck do they need two cars?”

      “That bitch made me! I think I should bounce into them woods over there.”

      “Just chill,” Grams said, “They both coming to the car right now. The other cop is on your side of the car.”

      As the female officer approached the driver’s side window, she ordered Grams to step out of the car.

      “Is everything ok?” Grams asked, he now was sounding nervous.

      “Oh, I see your friend is awake now. Just put your hands on the hood.”

      The other officer opened my door and told me to step out of the car and motioned for me to assume the position. I put both hands on the hood.

      “I’m gonna ask you both this time. Are there any guns or drugs in the vehicle?”

      “Nah,” I said as Grams remained quiet and shook his head no.

      Both officers patted us down and then the male officer looked under the front seats and inside the dashboard. Thank God he didn’t look anywhere else.

      “It looks good,” the male officer told the female cop.

      At that point, the cop handed Grams his license and other paperwork and in an attempt to smooth things over, she explained that she would let him slide this time on the tinted windows but that he had to get it taken care of quickly.

      “I’ll make sure it’s taken care of tomorrow officer,” Grams replied, sounding like a straight up house nigger. With that, the cops went back to their cars and pulled off.

      “Holy shit!” I yelled then whistled a sigh of relief, “Whew!”

      “Word is bond, Promise! Nigga, you have an angel watching over your ass or sump’n! I ain’t never seen a nigga as lucky,” Grams said smiling and pulling back on to the Turnpike.

      That traffic stop had thrown us off schedule. We had wanted to get to the club at about 3 AM and scope things out but now we probably wouldn’t get there until around 3:30. Under the circumstances, we couldn’t complain at all.

      Soon we were crossing the Brooklyn Bridge and rolling past The Brooklyn Cafe. Even at this time, there were people and cars everywhere.

      “This spot’s jumpin’!” Grams exclaimed.

      “I told you.”

      Grams and I cruised back and forth. There was no place to park and we wanted to be in close proximity to the club so that we could quickly bounce to the car when we were done. It was four in the morning and although there was a lot going on, people were also starting to leave the club.

      “Park right here at this hydrant! We might get a ticket but we gotta hurry.”

      Grams did as I said then climbed to the back of the truck to retrieve the guns and the duct tape. He handed me the chrome 38 and stuffed his gun into his waistband. He managed to bend the roll of duct tape so that it fit into his back pocket then he pulled his shirt over it in order to hide the bulges.

      “You think that same bouncer’s gonna be at the door tonight?” Grams asked.

      “Yeah, he should be but if he ain’t, I’ll get one of them to get Show to let us in so we don’t get frisked.”

      I knew now it was a good thing I had never tipped my hand to Show or Squeeze and let them know I was pissed off at them. Marissa told me about snake eyes. It was my turn to behave like a snake. Out of nowhere I’d strike!

      As Grams and I walked across Flatbush with guns in our waists, he said “Promise, trust me, with a spot like this, there has to be a safe and some kind of cash! We leaving with some cash tonight, buddy.”

      When we made it to the front, I immediately recognized the bouncer and I took it upon myself to remove the rope and head towards the VIP entrance.

      “My man, what up? Show inside?” I asked the bouncer, showing him respect.

      The bouncer looked at me and immediately recognized me. He gave me a pound and was like, “Yeah, he’s there. He’s up in there somewhere.”

      “Ahight cool. He’s wit’ me,” I said, referring to Grams.

      The bouncer nodded his head. I was hoping that neither he nor anyone else would put two and two together and realize that I was the wanted cop killer. СКАЧАТЬ