Streets of New York. Mark Anthony

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СКАЧАТЬ he died.”

      “Yeah! My muthafuckin’ nigga, Promise! Killing cops! My nigga!” Grams said as he reached out his hand to congratulate me. Then he spoke up as if a revelation had hit him. “Somebody just shot like nine fuckin’ cops in Mt. Airy! It was all over the news.”

      “Nine cops?” I asked.

      “Yeah, and the nigga was on some ol’ Larry Davis type shit. He jumped out the window and everything and the cops didn’t catch his ass.”

      “Goddamn!” I said out loud.

      I became more frustrated because I knew that I hadn’t shot no nine cops. Even when I had overheard the cops talking while I was under the car, they had said that only two cops had been hit. If it had been nine, they would have known it was that many.

      Some of those cops had to have been hit by friendly fire. I wasn’t sure how many rounds I had let off but I was sure it wasn’t me. Truth be told, it didn’t matter because if the cops were to catch me, they were gonna get me on all nine counts.

      “So what’s up, my nigga?”

      “Them cops that you talking about that got shot over in Mt. Airy. That was me who shot they ass.”

      “Get da’ fuck outta here! Say word?”

      “Word is bond! I was chillin’ at Marissa’s crib and the cops raided the joint. Luckily, I got hip to what was about to go down so I hid in a closet. When them pigs opened the closet door, I was like bla-dow, bla-dow, bla-dow! I shot at them niggas and bolted from the closet and jumped out the window like fuckin’ I was fuckin’ Rambo and shit!”

      “For real, nigga?”

      “I’m for real! And then I hid out for damn near 24 hours underneath this abandoned car in some alley and they couldn’t find my ass. That’s how I ended up like this! I was under that goddamn car for so long and the car was so low to the ground, it was pushing me down. I just pissed and shit right there while I was hiding out.”

      “Damn, Promise! You one grimy-ass nigga! So that’s how y’all New York cats get down?”

      “Yeah,” I said shaking my head. “I had to do what I had to do... Fuckin’ feds is after me for these banks I robbed while I was in Virginia. The shit is bananas!”

      “Stay right there. I’m a be right back,” Grams said.

      I stood there in front of his crib desperately hoping that he would lookout for a nigga. A smile lit up my face as Grams returned with a plastic garbage bag and some clothes in his hand.

      “Go on the side of the house, strip outta them clothes and throw those clothes away in that garbage can right there. Put them in this bag first. Here, this is some gear that you can rock. You can chill here and figure things out... But after you throw those clothes away, come inside and take a shower, nigga! Yo ass stinkin’ like you dead, nigga!”

      I was so relieved to here those words come out of Grams’ mouth. I did exactly as he had instructed. A shower had never felt as good as that shower that night at Grams’ house. As I washed the dried up shit and piss from off my body, I thought about my daughter. I wondered how she was living. Was she with some family that she didn’t want to be with? Was she scared? Did she miss me? Did she think that I had abandoned her?

      I got so vexed with frustration over not being in control of my life and especially for having lost control of my daughter. Ashley was the most important person in the world to me and I knew that I had to figure out a way to get her back and then just bounce from all of this drama and nonsense. Maybe I could kidnap her and go to Mexico or something? I didn’t know.

      As I ended my shower, I knew that someday I would be reunited with my daughter again. In fact, I felt so strong about it, that in my mind, seeing my daughter again was a reality not just a possibility. It was definitely going to happen! The other thing was I was definitely gonna see Squeeze and Show, them two clown ass niggas!

      Grams had a cool one-bedroom apartment that he rented. He let me sleep on the sofa bed that he had in his living room. The first night I was there I continued to fill him in on all of the details and criminal dealings that I had been involved in. I told him about my daughter and about Audrey, Pooh, Squeeze, and Show. Grams couldn’t believe that Squeeze wouldn’t have welcomed me back with open arms considering that we had a real history together. But at the same time he knew exactly how sheisty some dudes are.

      “See, one thing I learned about the street is that you learn real fast how to separate the real from the fake. On the street, it’s like the majority of niggas ain’t really real,” Grams said.

      “I know.”

      Grams added, “So yo, this is what I’m sayin’. If you telling me that they own this Brooklyn Café spot then them niggas gotta be holding some paper and they got some other hustles going on? Yo, them niggas don’t know me so I ain’t got no problem running up on them niggas and making them come up off they shit.”

      I smiled as I listened to Grams talk. Although he wasn’t from New York, he had the spirit of real street dude and I liked and respected that. Listening to him talk reminded me of a whole lot of the days I’d spent in the basement in Brooklyn when we used to sit around to plot and scheme on how we were gonna get money.

      I had really no choice but to trust Grams. But I knew that even trusting him was risky because of the fact that he could talk a good game and then turn around and rat me out to collect the hundred grand reward the police were offering for someone to turn my criminal-black-ass in.

      If it turned out that Grams could be trusted then I would respect him for as long as I lived because he didn’t even know me that well and yet he was willing to take me in, give me some of his gear to rock, feed me, plus he was willing to risk robbing Squeeze and Show rather than going after the easy reward money that the police were offering.

      As Grams and I talked, he could sense and tell how badly I wanted to get back at that nigga Squeeze for ratting me out to the police. But he had some real good advice that I heeded to.

      “Promise, listen to me. You and I both know that Squeeze and Show are holding some real long money right now... You definitely need some dough, and hell, I need some money, who da’ fuck doesn’t need money! But you gotta be smart and move real slow.”

      “Fuck dat! I’m ready to move on them niggas right now! They had me under a car laying in my own crap like a fucking animal!”

      “Promise, I know that. But trust me. I know how the streets work and how to operate in the game... And what you gotta do is just chill here at my crib, lay low for a about three weeks and let some of the heat die down. Don’t even come outside or nothing. And then what you do is you call Show just before you’re ready to come out of hiding. But you don’t get at him or Squeeze for dissin’ you and rattin’ on you. You don’t even bring it up. You just play things cool, like everything is ahight wit’ you. You gotta do that just to feel them out and not let them suspect that you’re about to hit they asses!”

      “Grams, I feel you and I know where you coming from, but dog I can’t just sit here on this anger for three weeks!”

      “Promise, trust me. You see how them terrorist cats did the United States on 9/11? Bin Laden and СКАЧАТЬ