The Green Line Read Online Free PDF

wrong place at the wrong time. You got out just in time. Maybe two minutes after you left we heard sirens. Some of the boys headed out the front. Little D and I ran out the back. The place was surrounded in minutes. Looks like some bad shit went down in there.”
    “What do you mean?”
    “Fuckin’ dead body, man. Drug bust too, I think. Saw some cop carry out a big zip lock of smack.”
    “Huh. And you didn’t know anything about that?” Marcus was doing his best older-brother-style grilling.
    “Nothing! I swear! We had just gotten there. Saw the white girl behind the bar and we was just playin’.” He chuckled then. “She was scared shitless, dude. That’s when you came in.”
    Marcus gave him an unconvinced look.
    “Swear!” Darnel held up his hand.
    “All right. Well, I got to head.”
    “Yeah, me too. ’Night, Marcus.” They did the handshake and parted ways.
    Marcus walked another two blocks and headed west on Colfax to his apartment. He pulled out the five keys it took to get in and climbed the stairs to the third floor.
    His sparse, beaten-down apartment greeted him with typical silence. He should have brought Lucy, he thought for the hundredth time. She always ran to the door like a dog would, and rubbed up against his legs. At the time, he couldn’t bear the reminder. But it was hard to walk in the door without thinking of that damn cat.
    The apartment didn’t look much different than it had seven months ago when he moved in, other than the mounds of papers and files that now covered the coffee table. There was no point in trying to make it homey. It would never be home.
    He opened the fridge, surveyed the leftover take-out containers and grabbed a Budweiser. Moving some papers around, he found a pen and took some notes about the evening. There wasn’t much to say. He sat back and closed his eyes. The silence of this room, even of the street outside sometimes, was suffocating. New York was always loud. Every minute of every hour of every day there was something going on down on the street. Horns, cabbies yelling, music, metal trashcan lids, dogs, even screeching cats. Here, he heard only sirens in the distance and the occasional argument from his neighbors next door.
    He undressed, brushed his teeth, and caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror. The scar was changing colors. It was less pink now, healing. He wasn’t healing. Without even closing his eyes, he could still see the smoke, the tears, the screaming, that deafening crack. The day his world imploded. He touched the discolored pink skin that would forever remind him and his eyes filled with tears. He closed them hard, shook out his hands, like he could rid himself of the thoughts, and headed for bed. He watched TV until he couldn’t keep his eyes open any longer.

FIVE
    ABBY was running down the street, running from something, scared, confused. She heard a ring. She kept looking around to find the source. It happened again. And again. Why won’t it stop? She opened her eyes. The phone was ringing. She quickly sat up, rubbed her eyes and surveyed the damage. A box of Wheat Thins and a half-empty bottle of red wine sat on her bedside table. The television was on and Matt Lauer was chatting with the crowd in New York City.
    “Shit!” She jumped up to answer.
    “Hello?”
    “Abby!” Sarah was yelling in a hushed voice. “What the fuck? Peter just came by. Looked pissed. Said you’re due in his office in a few minutes and he hasn’t seen you this morning.”
    Abby was already out of bed, trying to pull it together. “Damn it. What time is it?”
    “Eight o’clock—what’s going on?”
    “Fuck! I was supposed to pull an all-nighter.”
    “So why didn’t you?”
    “Oh fuck. Fuck, fuck. I can’t explain it all right now.” Her mind was racing, trying to figure out how to control the situation. It was hard to focus. She spoke softly and slowly, trying to lessen the pain in her head and carefully consider her actions.