Streets of New York. Mark Anthony

Чтение книги онлайн.

       a gang staluv

      ANTHONY WHYTE

      Lindsay Roberts stared off into space. Her hazel eyes darted back and forth while her mind drifted on an empty log of premonitions. What if she hadn’t let Squeeze take control of her life? Why hadn’t she listened to her best friend; her mother and the advice given? She told her about this feeling, the one that haunts, that can’t be ignored. A decision on whether or not you should turn around or keep it moving had to be made. Lindsay felt she had to do it soon. She had been holding on to something that might never have been, an illusion that was built within. Lindsay eyeballed the professor then turned her head to the text book on her desk.

      She felt the tears forming in her eyes, felt them rolling pass her mascara and down her cheeks. Saddened she heard when her tears hit the paper, one at a time. Lindsay slowly attempted to regain the feeling which she hoped would keep her head from swimming. She dried her eyes and attempted to refocus on the lesson at hand: Accounting 101. Professor Allen was in charge and he was nice gentle older man. This used to be her favorite class before today came along.

      She’d skipped two other classes, spent time inside the cafeteria trying to hide tears of disgust. Lindsay decided to attend this class. It was her favorite class except after she had arrived she wasn’t much in the mood to hear anyone speaking. Lindsay was caught in a cloud of anxiety. Life had not been what it was since Squeeze went missing in action.

      He had broken his commitment to her. “A man be there for you until it no longer interest him”, her mother had warned. It was with these anxieties that she had dared to enter her accounting class. Lindsay thought it would raise her spirits. And maybe some of what she felt when she first registered for the class could be recaptured. At least that was the rationale. Now Lindsay wished she had not set foot in the classroom especially with professor Allen teaching. She had opened up to him, they had formed a bond and he had always encouraged her. He probably felt he knew her. The professor had told her she was strong, proud and intelligent when she applied herself. Today, it wasn’t in the cards, Lindsay thought as she looked at his face. He smiled, nodded and she felt his attitude already irked her. Oh, by the way, Professor Allen today I’m weak, feeble and didn’t really feel like applying myself, Lindsay wanted to say. Instead she stared blankly at the chalkboard.

      Round and round her wits swirled blurring her vision of reality. She paid very little or no attention to the words spoken by the talkative professor, or the balance sheet which he directed the class to research. Lindsay turned and eyeballed the classroom. It lacked warmth, the buzz of the hopefuls had simmered and it appeared smaller than when she started the semester. The hopeless had slowly dropped the course. Now was it her turn? Her mind whirled in sadness and Lindsay’s heart pounded a heavy beat.

      A cold spell caused her slim frame to shudder. She pulled her Hermes scarf closer to the olive skin of her long nape. Lindsay felt as if she was sitting on a chair of pine cones. Accounting was her last class of the day and so far that was the best thing about today. She had to survive another day, go another round with nothing but Squeeze left on her mind. It was fall, she reminded herself but in her mind it was the dead of winter.

      The vibrations from her cell phone jolted her. Lindsay glanced at the phone with heavy expectations. It wasn’t Squeeze. He was stored in her phone’s memory as H4L. Mother appeared on the screen. Lindsay quickly turned the phone off. Her actions caused the professor to take unwelcome notice of her.

      “Ms. Roberts are you following along with us so far?” The professor asked.

      Lindsay nodded and shirked her brow skyward and then looked away. She attempted to hide her feelings by staring at her text book. Lidsay used to open the book and glance at the pages with lots of pride. That was then. Now all that seemed to have been a passing phase. Attending college was no longer interesting.

      The newness of learning had faded and could not impede her thoughts. Mother was probably calling her about going out to dinner or shopping. Lately, they seemed to be doing that an awful lot. Mother had always insisted on treating, Lindsay wondered where she had been getting all that money. She probably spent all that dough Show gave her, I know my mother; she’s a survivor. Maybe she’s just calling to see if I’m okay. I mean I did keep her up all last night on the phone.

      I can’t say she didn’t warn me of days like this, Lindsay sighed. She was sure that things would be better if Squeeze just call her. Instead of trying to drag herself off the floor she would’ve felt great about being a college student and her spirits definitely would have been boosted. Lindsay knew she’d be more in the mood for rushing to meet deadlines, classes and writing papers, even communicating with her professors. But today was just not that type of day. On this fall afternoon in late September Lindsay regretted ever signing up for classes at York College.

      In the beginning she liked the way Squeeze introduced her to associates and pals as his college girl. The aura completed her, made her feel respectable. It was mostly from the urging of Squeeze and her mother that kept her motivation level high enough for the college courses. But it was mostly Squeeze.

      “Just take a few classes. See if you like it. I’m a be there for you no matter what, baby-doll,” he had insisted.

      It would’ve been a lie if she told anyone that Squeeze had not been supportive in every way possible. And he always wanted her to be better. He was lways encouraging her. In return she wanted him to feel good about her success. So she tried. Thrill went through her entire frame when he used to smile and utter the words: “That’s my baby-doll.”

      Hearing it roll off his lips and the way he looked at her made Lindsay proud to be alive. She felt like she belonged to someone who loved her. Squeeze was hers and she was his even if it was only a fantasy she made up. Her logic; he was only thugging and didn’t want to say the three words. Squeeze was committed to the streets and Lindsay knew that in the streets, you live whenever you can. Nothing ever went on a smooth schedule. Things get done when they got done.

      Squeeze would see her when he could. That was her creed and Lindsay wanted to live by it. Except, Squeeze had turned her out and she loved the good life. Everyday with Squeeze brought a new and pleasant surprise. He spent quality moments with her which led Lindsay to think that things would remain the same forever. Squeeze let her ride and she earned her stripes. Lindsay knew it would be impossible for him to leave his family, home, and his two sons whom he constantly bragged about.

      Still she had let Squeeze into her heart as a lover and friend, he was her backbone. Lindsay knew he loved her. She’d felt it from the beginning. Even back in the days when Squeeze only used to visit her brother, Pooh. He used to give her the type of looks that would say a lot more. Although she was only a shortie those passing glances between them spoke volumes to her.

      “Baby-doll, Pooh, here?” She remembered him asking with that fly look of his and a wink. Squeeze always checked out her style and he’d compliment her too. “You lookin’ really good an’ you getting’ taller, baby-doll. СКАЧАТЬ