Streets of New York. Mark AnthonyЧитать онлайн книгу.
anyone who would be cool enough to let me hideout at their crib. Plus, I knew that the cops would have some type of financial reward for anyone that would rat me out and turn my black ass in so I wasn’t trying to hide out with anybody. The only person that I could think of who was gutter and cool enough to not rat on me was this cat named Grams.
I had met Grams when I first came to Philly. I would buy weed from him and we would kick it with each other. He had lived in Philly all of his life and he knew a whole lot of people from New York, so maybe that was why the two of us was cool wit’ each other from the jump. I had hung out at his crib a few times and I knew that he lived not too far from Mt. Airy in a section called Glennside.
Glennside was about a mile or so away from Mt. Airy and since I didn’t know the Philly streets like I knew the New York streets, I had to take the only route to Glennside that I knew, which meant that I had to walk down Wadsworth Ave. Although it was real late, I knew in my heart that somebody on Wadsworth Ave was gonna recognize me, or that some cop on patrol was gonna spot me and bag my ass.
The funny thing about being wanted by the police is that you really get paranoid and think that the whole world knows you and is concerned with you. But as I walked I had to remind myself that most people wouldn’t be able to recognize me that easily.
My heart pounded as I walked towards Grams’ crib. I tried to walk as calm and as cool as I possibly could with a sack-load of shit in my pants and I hoped like hell that Grams was home. Finally after about forty-five minutes of walking, I reached Grams’ crib. All of the lights were out inside his house and I wondered what I should do. I didn’t exactly know his living situation that good and I didn’t wanna be interrupting anything. Since I didn’t have many options, I rang his doorbell.
After ringing for about five minutes I got no answer so I began knocking real loud. I didn’t wanna knock too loud because I didn’t want any of the neighbors to look out their window and get suspicious. Finally after about two more minutes, Grams came to the door.
“Who da’ fuck is at my door at this time of night?” Grams growled with an obvious attitude.
“Grams, what up, baby pa’? It’s me, Promise.”
“Who?”
“Promise from New York! I’m in some shit. Open up the door.”
Grams opened the door. He was real groggy and I could tell that I had woken him up. He had on some slippers, boxer shorts and a wife beater.
“Oh! What da’ fuck? What up, nigga?” Grams asked as he reached to give me a pound.
As I stuck out my hand, Grams let out a yell of disgust.
“Oh shit! What the hell is that smell? Nigga, where you been at? You smell like muthafuckin’ shit! You drunk, nigga?”
“Nah, nah, I ain’t drunk. Yo, it’s a long story. I’ll fill you in but on the real, I need somewhere to stay tonight. I ain’t got no cake on me or nothing.”
“Where your girl at?” Grams asked, sounding like he didn’t wanna take my smelly ass in.
“Honestly, I don’t even know. Ahight look, you like one of the only niggas that I vibe wit’ out here in Philly so I can be straight up wit’ you and don’t have to worry about you opening your mouth. You kna’imean? You a real nigga and real recognize real!”
“Fo’sho!” Grams replied.
“Ahight, check it. I ain’t never told nobody in Philly this. Nobody except for Marissa but before I came to Philly, I stayed in B-More for a minute. That was because I was on the run and I’m still on the run but shit just got a whole lot thicker.”
“What’s up?”
“About a year ago when I was in New York doing my thing, I got into a situation and I bussed down a cop.”
“Get da’ fuck outta here? Did he die?”
“Hell yeah, 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!