George Pelecanos Read Online Free PDF

silver caps on his front teeth.

    I
turned my back on him. Pee ran hot down my thigh. My knees were trembling, but
I made my legs move.

    The
night flashed. I felt a sting, like a bee sting, high on my back.

    I
stumbled but kept my feet. I looked down at my blood, dotted in the snow. I
walked a couple of steps and closed my eyes.

    When
I opened them, the field was green. It was covered in gold, like it gets here
in summer, 'round early evening. A Gamble and Huff thing was coming from the
open windows of a car. My father stood before me, his natural full, his chest filling the fabric of his shirt. His sleeves were
rolled up to his elbows. His arms were outstretched.

    I
wasn't afraid or sorry. I'd done right. I had the lottery ticket in my pocket.
Detective Barnes, or someone like him, would find it in the morning. When they
found

    But
first I had to speak to my father. I walked to where he stood, waiting. And I
knew exactly what I was going to say: I ain't the low-ass bum you think I am. I been workin' with the police for a long, long time. Matter
of fact, I just solved a homicide.

    I'm
a confidential informant, Pop . Look at me.

    FIRST
    BY KENJI JASPER
    Benning
Heights, S.E .

    This
shit has gone way too far. That's what the little voice in your head tells you.
The black hoodie concealing your face is too warm for mid-April, and is thus
putting your Right Guard to the test. However, it will keep you above
description. And in this case, it's all that matters.

    The
radio's on but turned all the way down. More commercial breaks than there ever
is music. Makes you curse your tape deck for being broken. Maybe it's a
blessing though, one less thing to distract you.

    After
all there are three other men to worry about. The first, Sean, the one you've
known since Ms. Abby's class at nursery school, is in the passenger seat
sucking on a half-dead Newport as he loads a final shell into the sawed-off he
stole from your first catch of the day. The four of you introduced his flesh to
four pair of steel-toed Timberlands. You can still hear his ribs splintering,
and that shrill scream he let out at the end, when Babatunde's fist split his
nose in two.

    Dante
and Baba are in the '85 Escort behind the house, both in the same hot-ass
hoodies you're rocking. Sean was the only one smart enough to go with short
sleeves. But there are beads even on his brow, mostly near the sideburns.
You've been telling him to cut that nappy 'fro of his for the last six months.
It makes him look like a cheap-ass Redman. But he likes Redman.

    "This
jawnt is like that for '92!" he proclaims, continuing to take the critique as a
compliment. You can't wait for '93.

    "You
ready?" Baba asks, his voice crackling with static
through the pair of ten-dollar walkie-talkies you've purchased for this hit.
The car sits different on your new rear tires. Rochelle slashed the old ones
two weeks ago when you told her it was over. Maybe it wasn't too prudent for
you to mention that Catalina had bigger titties.

    You
love titties, or breasts, as a more elegant politically correct nigga might
say. But you ain't elegant and you definitely ain't PC. You're from Southeast.
And there's four lives inside the rules say you gotta take.

    It
was definitely not supposed to turn out like this. You would have rather spent
the last three hours in Catalina's basement, bumping and grinding in nothing
but a latex shield. You should be squeezing her nipples with your fingers, and
putting a thumb on that pearl down below.

    You
were supposed to be five grand richer by dawn. But that hammer hit the base of
the shell and next thing you knew, Fat Rodney's skull was missing a chunk the
size of your fist, his blood sprayed across your cheek as you took cover to the
left of that door frame. It was your first time out and somebody had the fix
in. Go fuckin' figure.

    "So
y'all ready?" Dante asks again. Burns Street is nothing but quiet, a block the
cops hardly every patrol. Nothing over there but