On the Run: Fugitive Life in an American City Read Online Free PDF

talking ’bout they going to come back every night till they
     grab me. Now my mom saying she going to turn me in ’cause she don’t want the law in
     her crib. . . . I’m not with it. I ain’t going back to jail. I’ll sleep in my car
     if I have to.
    In fact, Reggie did take to sleeping in his car, and managed to live on the run for
     a few months before the cops caught him.
    .   .   .
    Some people in the neighborhood said that Chuck and his younger brothers got into
     so much trouble because their fathers weren’t around, and their mother failed to set
     a good example. By virtually all accounts, Miss Linda was an addict and had not raised
     her boys well. One had only to step foot inside her house to know this: it smelled
     of piss and vomit and stale cigarettes, and cockroaches roamed freely across the countertops
     and soiled living room furniture. But many of Chuck’s friends had mothers who hadn’t
     succumbed to crack, who worked two jobs and went to church. These friends, too, were
     spending a lot of their time dealing with the police and the courts.
    MIKE AND RONNY
    Mike was two years older than Chuck and had grown up just a block away in a two-story
     home shared with his mother and uncle, who hadinherited the house from Mike’s grandfather. His mother kept an exceptionally clean
     house and held down two and sometimes three jobs.
    Mike’s first arrest had come at thirteen, when the police stopped, searched, and arrested
     him for carrying a small quantity of marijuana. He was put on probation and managed
     to stay out of trouble long enough to finish high school by taking night classes,
     as the large graduation photo on his mother’s mantel attested.
    The two jobs Mike’s mom worked meant that he had more money growing up than most of
     the other guys—enough for new school clothes and Christmas gifts. Chuck and Alex sometimes
     joked that as a result of this relatively privileged upbringing, Mike had too strong
     an appetite for the finer things in life, like beautiful women and the latest fashion.
     His elaborate morning routine of clothes ironing, hair care, body lotion, and sneaker
     buffing was the source of much amusement. “Two full hours from the shower to the door,”
     Chuck quipped. Mike defended these habits and affinities, claiming that they came
     from an ambition to make something more of himself than what he was given.
    At twenty-two, Mike was working part time at a pharmaceutical warehouse and selling
     crack on the side for extra cash. His high school girlfriend was about to give birth
     to their second child.
    A few weeks after his daughter was born, Mike lost the job at the warehouse. Complications
     with his daughter’s birth had caused him to miss work too many days in a row. He spent
     the first six months of his daughter’s life in a fruitless and humiliating attempt
     to find work; then he persuaded a friend from another neighborhood to give him some
     crack to sell on credit.
    Mike had no brothers or sisters but often went around with his young boy Ronny, whom
     he regarded as a brother and in more sentimental moments as a godson. 2 Ronny was a short and stocky boy who wore do-rags that concealed a short Afro, and
     hoodies that he pulled down to cover most of his face. His mother had gotten strung
     out on crack while he was growing up, and he spent his early years shuttling between
     homeless shelters. An adopted aunt on his father’s side raised Ronny until he was
     twelve. When this beloved aunt died, his maternal grandmother took over his care.
     That’s when the trips to detention centers started.
    A self-proclaimed troublemaker, Ronny was repeatedly kicked out ofschool for things like hitting his teacher or trying to steal the principal’s car.
     When his grandmother asked him to be good, he smiled with one corner of his mouth
     and said, “I want to, Nanna, but I can’t promise nothing. I can’t even say I’m going
     to try.” Daily she