Читать книгу Streets of New York - Mark Anthony - Страница 9

Man I never grew up watching the world created by tell-I-lie-vision, I witness reality. True life-gangster-lessons on how and what to hustle on the black top of my block. Fuck school. I took street classes and learn different ways to set up shops. Lessons about how spots go. How to cook the raw multiplying rock investments extend clientele dividin corners into sections was on the afternoon program card. Mornins spent independently studyin ways to get new custs communicatin wit’ eye. No words needed to steer junkies in a herd crack coding.

That made the hood jumpin hot. I mean that rock was the shit and it went hopping mad beyond the hood. I can’t even leave the rest without someone’s mom annoyin me. Always chasin me aroun bein a damn pest from hell. All for the get high. She cant see herself sinking low. She suck-my-dick in a quick sec if I wink. Women givin their asses. Men stealin from families. Crack is that precious gem. They come buildings fill. Everyone walkin round their heads to the ground searching for what you could never understand. U see them comin scopin you out. Zombie minds on over-time tryin to get sump’n for no thing. Stank smellies threatenin suffocatin in their housin project. Any block you go theres hundreds or more; it was ez to recognize crackhead stroll. Persistent begging for pennies. Unwashed bodies and dirty hands gears smellin like stale sewer. They loyal custies. Smiles replaced by frowns the walk with head to the ground outside the monster reign big time. Get in where you fit in. Runners captains and lookouts makin money. Spent my day dreaming how I’m a get my bling like I’m in the rap game or sump’n. Nice with my ice a true bonafide hustler. I wanted all that pimping in my world cuz I realize at an early age it wasn’t just all about the Benjies; it was about how those Franklins added up in the real world.

Lindsay delicately turned the page and watched as they drank. The fat man laid his gun on the nightstand. All the others seemed relaxed by the alcohol or maybe it was the poetry. Some closed their eyes. Her living room became cloudy from cigarette smoke as they relaxed, lit up and chilled. They chugged the alcohol while it dawned on Lindsay that the words written by her dead brother was having an unexpected overpowering effect on them. It fueled her to read on.

I’m grown nineteen and I’ve attained this consciousness that money makes the whole worl go roun. I don’t have to be in school to kno geography and over stand the fact that if you didn’t have the necessary capital them financial institutions gonna treat you like third world not fuckin with you. Who want a give chance to a black man with no money? What type of employment you gettin even after finishin college? Maybe I be oblige step n fetch a little sumpn, sumpn startin in the basement if I qualified. Desperately I keep my ones in check. My nightmares are as real as sunlight. I was doomed from the womb ever since the doctor slapped me on the ass my hard knock life began and will last for the rest of time. It’s a everyday struggle to learn life lessons, deep down where I’m from survivin racism part o everyday livin. This the last class. Everyday I awake it becomes more difficult to breathe. Feel like I cant help myself I gotta fight cause those in power the one in charge at kapitalistik AmeriKa be doing everythin to keep the Poor man down. Early I could remember the riches seduced me. I was a shortie on the road to the riches doing what I want and fell in love and commit to the streets. Nobody is gonna tell me how to do this. I’d rather die than bitch-up, switch or run and snitch on my fellow squad member soldiers of the street army, Squeeze, Show and Promise, my fam in this war. This Pooh I use what I got to stack chips and I’m doin what I have to before they carry me out...

Lindsay paused as she read from the notebook of her fallen brother. Pooh, the poet had kept a running tale of his street escapades. These were words from Pooh’s soul; it was like hearing his voice. She was caught up in her thoughts, studying the reaction. Glancing around her swanky apartment, Lindsay felt the calming effect of her brother’s presence. It was as if Pooh was there sitting around, calmly assessing her situation.

She didn’t expect too much. Lindsay really didn’t set out wanting to accomplish very much. It started out with her just wanting to be there for a friend. Lindsay was looking out for someone she really cared for. Squeeze had done a good job so far.

He had done right by her and she wanted to exhaust every fiber in her being to make him see how much his help was appreciated. Lindsay was well aware of how Squeeze had come through like a ray of sunlight and lit her up with ice, furs and the dopest crib her friends had ever seen. She had given him the opportunity and he had performed way beyond her expectations. She had to use what she had to get what she wanted. Lindsay realized that after reading the notebook, that not only were they in a relaxed posture but the guns were now put away. She saw that the one closest to the door was now completely asleep.

Lindsay put the notebook down. The intruder by the door snoring, definitely in deep sleep. She crept over to where the fat man was reclined. His eyes seemed closed. She stared at the gun and was close enough to see that unlike the other gun, this one had the magazine that one of them had so proudly taunted her with. Lindsay paused but just as she reached across him for the weapon. The fat man grabbed her arm. Oh shit, she thought her mind sped and her stomach did cartwheels. Lindsay immediately reached for his zipper.

“Is this what you want?” She asked tugging at his belt.

The fat man resisted at first but when he felt her nails rake way past the great amount of flesh surrounding his belly-button he struggled to regain his composure. With the gun in his hand, he allowed her to gain control of his dick. Lindsay thought, wow, so small and tried to grab more. The words almost burst out. Is this all you got? She dipped her head in his lap.

“You’re gonna have to pull your pants down big boy.”

Lindsay smiled. He had to put the gun down. She knew she had to do whatever it took. There were two men in her apartment. One was passed out from being drunk and the other protected his gun as he got out of his pants. She knew that her plan required some brains and she had to be ballsy.

She was convinced that alcohol had only set the mood and made the time ripe for the execution of her plan. Only two members of the gang remained inside. The other two were outside. The two who had remained were probably the main guys. The others were runners, workers. She figured the fat man was the boss. Lindsay’s head-game serviced him until he screamed and woke up his friend.

“Oh yeah, that’s what I’m saying. I’m ready for some of that,” he said as he approached loosening his belt.

His jeans was around his ankles by the time he sat, he had dick in hand ready for service. Lindsay dealt with both. She let them paw all over her body. Lindsay felt nothing else but repulsion and anger. She kept that feeling as she jerked on one of them and sucked on the other.

“Yeah papi you like it like that, huh?”

“Ahh…” along with grunts of pleasure were all Lindsay heard.

With their eyes closed, they entered into seventh heaven. Lindsay started to lick on the other man’s hard dick. Then she alternately sucked each hard much to their delight. After about ten minutes of constant lip and tongue action both men were lost in bliss. Their minds braced for the pending explosion.

With eyes closed and torso exposed arched they seemed to enjoy being prime targets. They ignored Lindsay on her knees in front of them. Head bobbing from dick to dick, one arm jerking someone’s dick off, the other reaching for the gun. Still sucking, she managed to take off safe.

“Ah yess mira, the bitch sucks dicks well. For this we should let her live.”

“Now that is a great idea…ahh ooh ah…”

“Oh yeah that is the reason homey keeps this bitch on da low.”

“Ah…huh… hmm…Yes that’s it, mami!”

“What da fuck!”

Too late their eyes popped wide opened when the explosion erupted. Using her brains had paid dividend. It wasn’t what they were expecting. The bark of the gun frightened her and caused her to close her eyes. Her intended targets were at close range. Point blank she couldn’t miss. Lindsay made sure. She fired shot after shot after shot.

She pumped both of them filled with so much lead that they were still shaking long after she was finished shooting. It happened just as she’d planned, Lindsay thought as blood splattered, she stared amazed at the destruction the gun had caused.

They deserved it, Lindsay thought as she examined the smoking weapon heavy in her hand. There was temporary satisfaction until she remembered one little thing; there were two more men outside scheming to kill her lover. They would be very angry if they found their friends laid up in her sofa spitting up lead.

Lindsay threw down the gun and hurriedly locked the door. Her speed dial worked quickly to contact Squeeze.

“Squeeze,” her voice rushed into the message. “Squeeze honey, sweetheart please be careful when you come around. Be especially careful, Squeeze. There are two Spanish men in the garage or they might be in the lobby waiting to get you. They want to kill you. Be careful honey, they have guns.” Lindsay breathed into the phone then hung up and speed dialed her mother’s telephone number. She impatiently yelled into the phone. “Mommy, mommy there are two dead men in apartment right now and I…”

“Slow your roll. What you mean there are two dead men in your apartment? You told me that you’re having the girls from school...”

“I know, ma but it’s crazy. I got home and these men, they were in my apartment waiting when I got here.”

“You’re still inside there. Get out! Get out now, run. Oh my God, child. Call the police. But leave Lindsay, leave immediately.”

“Be easy, mommy. Squeeze is on his way here.”

“What is Squeeze gonna do when he gets there? He ain’t no police.”

“Mommy, when he gets here I’ll know what to do.”

“Are you sure about what you’re sayin’? I mean do you hear what you’re sayin’?”

“Mommy I think it’s because of …” Lindsay stopped short as her mind went into overdrive.

“Lindsay is you there, girl? You there, honey?” Lindsay’s mother asked with great concern. There was along pause on the line as Lindsay thought about what to do. “Lindsay?”

“Yes, mother. I’m here. I’ll call the police mommy,” she finally said. “I’ll call you back, okay.”

“Don’t you have call-waiting? I want to be on the phone. I want to know you’re alright, girl. How did they get in?”

“I really don’t know. Mommy, mommy, I promise. I’ll call you back.”

Lindsay hung up the phone. She didn’t want to call the police, but she knew her mother was right. I should listen to mommy at least this one time. Lindsay wondered what she’d tell the police as she dialed. It slowly dawned on her that her story wasn’t tight enough. I shot two men, but they were trespassing and trying to rob me, who’s gonna know but us and two are dead. The phone rang.

“Hello?” Lindsay quickly said.

“Hello 911, what is…” A perplexed Lindsay stared at the phone when she heard the voice of the operator, then she answered.

“I came home and found these two men and now they’re dead and I think there are more outside.”

“What is your location? And you said there are two dead men in your apartment? How do you know that they’re dead?”

“They got bullet holes in them and they bleeding all over my sofa. They look pretty dead to me.”

“Why didn’t you say that? A patrol car is on its way.” The operator said.

Lindsay sat the phone down and stared at the door. She knew the others would either be calling or coming back soon. She wondered if she should leave her finger prints on the bodies. For a minute she felt as if she would vomit but Lindsay sucked it up then searched their pockets and removed wallets, money and gun. She got busy cleaning her fingerprints off and attempting to wipe blood off herself.

She continued cleaning, and Lindsay saw the picture of Pooh on the cover of the notebook. Blood dripped from the photo. It was like her brother was there bleeding for her. The notebook had blood splattered over it. She picked up the money along with the notebook and stared at the book like it possessed magic.

“What would you do? What should I say to the police when they come?” Lindsay was staring at the photo as she asked. She walked to the kitchen sat down and read another page from her brother’s journal.

I wake n cold sweat drips cuz I done snitched or sump’n. I wanted this thing to happen but my mother couldn’t understand she told me that there was only murder in the first degree anyway you ’re gonna cross it that was what she knew running in the streets would cost me. Fast money, fast girls, fast rides all going down in the streets. I was with it. Thats me sittin in that new expensive whip. True things can flip you become the victim. That would be slippin and a nigga got to be sleepin if that happen. I never want to find myself laid up in the pen all fucked up from this bullshit. Madukes and lil’ sis cryin, wishin I never chose this life. Or just live ballin until the day I die there’ll be a picture of me on the front page ‘He’s still Peeps’ buildin memorial for me candles and all. Everybody cryin pourin liquor out for the fallen. It’s not happenin. Not in this lifetime. Yeah I done heard all the shit being popped by haters if you’re the son of a gangster then you were gonna true indeed be gangster.

Squeeze waited at the light, he checked his Rolex on his wrist, just a little past ten. He was on his way to see Lindsay to scold her for playing him so close. Then he checked his messages and the one from Lindsay stopped him in his tracks. He listened again carefully taking in what she said. He checked his weapons. The two fully loaded nines were by his side. Squeeze drove on. He felt an uneasiness creeping up to his throat while dialing Lindsay’s number. Squeeze squinted in hope as he waited.