9780982307403 (21 page)

back under the stairs. Still nothing.

Debbie walked into the building, “Boys, are you

in here? I saw you run in here. Quit playing

around!” She was putting on her best concerned

parent act just in case someone was coming or

looking out a door. Matthew and I appeared from

beneath the stairs and reported what happened

with a shrug. Several seconds later, Bobby

strolled in and eyed the three of us clustered at

the end of the hall. Debbie gave him the bag and

the all clear.

270

Matthew ran up the stairs and took his post at the

top of the stairs. If anyone came while Bobby was

breaking in, he was to run down the stairs as

loudly as possible. The three of us walked down

the hall to the first apartment door. I took my

post at the front door. Bobby chose the door

closest to the entrance and knocked on it himself.

After a few seconds of silence, he unzipped the

duffel bag and pulled out the flat pry bar, then

lowered the bag to the ground. Debbie knelt by

Bobby’s side and handed tools up as needed.

As I stared out the front door, I heard the metal

door pop open quickly under Bobby’s brute force.

I turned and saw Debbie pulling pillowcases from

the duffel bag, then zipping up the bag and

tossing it inside the apartment. She waved to me

and gestured for me to get my brother. I ran

quickly up the first set of stairs to the landing and

waved to Matthew to come down. Bracing myself

against the rail, I slid slowly to the bottom of the

271

stairs. Matthew came bouncing behind me, still

trying to wake the residents.

The apartment smelled of powder and dust, there

were no food smells like I was used to. The houses

and apartments we broke into with Bobby always

smelled this way. Debbie handed each of us a

pillowcase, and we were let loose. Bobby had

trained us well, and we kept in good practice in

the art of burglary. Matthew and I were in charge

of packing the obvious items of value. We stole

silverware, candlesticks, jewelry, and any money

we found in plain sight. Bobby had taught us the

secret places people hide their valuables. He was

almost always right. In each room of the large

apartment, we dumped all the shiny items into

our pillowcases. Bobby went directly to the

bedrooms. Debbie hit the bathrooms, looking for

prescription drugs.

Bobby emerged from a bedroom, stuffing his

front pocket. He called to Matthew excitedly,

272

“Drop that bag son and come to daddy for a

minute.”

Glowing with pride, Matthew placed his clinking

pillowcase on a couch and strutted into the

kitchen. I moved extra slowly through the living

room, as I spied Bobby’s tender attention to

Matthew.

“Get up there and find us somethin’ good boy,”

his voice full of encouragement as he carefully

thrust Matthew up above his head to search the

high cabinets. Matthew swept his hands and eyes

across the top of the cabinet.

“Over there,” Matthew said, pointing to the other

end.

Bobby strode effortlessly to the opposite end of

the cabinet with Matthew still held in midair

above his head. Matthew pulled down a small

box and was lovingly lowered to the ground.

Diverting my gaze, I began throwing everything

in sight into my pillowcase. Debbie continued her

search in the bedrooms for jewelry and anything

273

else of value. Bobby stood motionless in the

kitchen, rifling through the small box and hastily

stuffed its contents into his pockets. There was no

television or stereo, and that made Bobby mad.

He began to curse whoever lived there and

stomped around the living room, stabbing a

screwdriver through the glass of all of the picture

frames. It was time to move on.

We moved directly across the hall, trying to stay

close to the front door of the building. Bobby

pounded a crowbar against the bottom of the

door, and I could hear the echo inside the

apartment. He popped the door with ease, and

we were inside again. Debbie moved quickly to

the back bedroom, and I heard a scream.

Looking up from my pillowcase, I saw Debbie

slowly backing into the room. In front of her was

a white haired old woman in a nightgown. She

was wearing a heavy pearl necklace and a funny

looking hat. She didn’t seem scared or even

alarmed that we were there. She was mumbling

274

something that I could not make out. Before I

knew what was happening, I saw Bobby swing the

crowbar across the woman’s face. Blood sprayed

from the gash instantly. She collapsed to the floor

before the crowbar was at Bobby’s side.

“Beat the hell out’er, Matt, get’er!” Bobby

commanded.

Matthew attacked her with a ferocity I knew well.

He had learned from Bobby. Matthew liked it.

He hit her over and over again until her eyes

closed. Bobby had stood and watched as his

favorite son beat the old woman unconscious

before moving around the room looking for more

loot. I, too, stood watching, unable to move until

Bobby noticed and ordered me back to work. In a

moment of greed and disgust, I snatched the

pearls from the old woman’s throat and stuffed

them in my pillowcase. Matthew never stopped

hitting her.

Hoisting the television from its place, Bobby

made a quick exit to the car outside. The three of

275

us followed with Debbie carrying the extra bags.

We left the old woman’s apartment with her lying

in a bloody pool on the floor, not knowing or

caring if she was alive or dead. We loaded

ourselves, and Bobby’s loot, into the car and fled

back to the Village. Bobby raced back onto the

interstate, as the car filled with cigarette smoke

and laughter. The radio came on for the first

time, and Debbie sang along while she grabbed

Bobby’s thigh. He looked at her and yelled,

“Bitch, I love you!”

The radio blared, as we returned to the safety of

the Village. After racing through the maze of

buildings, the car came to a screeching halt,

inches from the brick façade of our building.

Bobby was still laughing, as he jumped from the

car. He threw the seat forward for Matthew to

climb out and then reached in to grab the

television. Matthew and I grabbed our

pillowcases, while Debbie grabbed the rest. Into

the dark and musty building we ran. Matthew

276

and I lugged our pillowcases one step at a time,

making more noise than we should have, but the

makeshift bags were much too heavy for us to

carry up three flights of stairs with any grace. I

heard Bobby kicking the door and yelling for the

men inside to open the door. There was more

noise from above, and then one of the men

descended the stairs and grabbed the pillowcases

from Matthew and me, throwing one over each

shoulder with a smile.

“Yer a hell uva kid,” he said to Matthew before

running back up the stairs.

“Race ya,” was all Matthew said as he darted up

the remaining stairs to the apartment. The door

was locked when we got there. Matthew did the

special knock, and the door was opened.

There was a party going on in the tiny apartment,

and Matthew and I were suddenly in the middle

of it. The two men we had left in the apartment

were digging through the loot, as Bobby plugged

in the television. The new one was much larger

277

and nicer than ours, and everyone was easily

excited by it.

The men were each making piles out of the

pillowcases and commenting on which fence in

the Village would take which pieces and how

much could be gained from taking it out of the

city. With the television in place, Bobby grabbed

a pillowcase and dumped it in front of him.

Debbie passed out beers to each of the men.

“Matt, get yer ass over here,” he called.

Matthew bounced over to Bobby’s side, smiling.

“Yeah?”

“This yer bag boy?”

“I think so.”

Pulling from the bottle of beer he’d just been

handed, Bobby took a breath and yelled proudly,

“Gotdamn that’s a helluva job boy,” as he

cuddled Matthew close to his side.

“Baby, get this man a beer. He done earned it

today. This the best you ever done. I’m proud of

my little man today,” Bobby beamed as he turned

278

to his friends. “You shoulda seen tha way he beat

dat bitch in dat house today. I’ll tell ya, this

sonuvabitch has learned from the best!” He said

to no one in particular.

Debbie looked at Bobby without saying a word.

He did not notice and never turned his gaze from

his young protégé. She moved away and

wandered stoically to the refrigerator, pulling out

another beer. She moved painfully back to the

living room and handed her oldest son a beer. I

sat behind the couch and watched the scene

unfold.

Sitting in his high back chair, Bobby launched his

mission to turn the loot into cash and drugs. The

phone rang each time it was set back in its cradle.

Purveying his bounty as he spoke, I heard Bobby

describe his take to the various callers. The deals

were sealed, and Bobby was pleased. He shuffled

the loot quickly and divided it into distinct piles.

Matthew and I were ordered to take it carefully,

pile by pile, into the spare bedroom. When all the

279

piles were moved and the living room floor was

clear again, we waited for our next order.

Matthew picked up his beer and retreated to

Bobby’s side. Debbie sat on the couch, rolling

joints. The two men sat on either side of Debbie,

talking frantically. The room had become a

frenzy of excitement.

Rhythmic knocks brought men and women

flooding into the apartment. Before Matthew

finished his beer, the room was filled with people,

smoke and music. Some of the people I had seen

before, but they did not acknowledge that I was

in the room. Matthew was sitting on Bobby’s lap,

as he recounted his beating of the old woman.

“Daddy knocked her down and I jumped on top

of her and beat on her till she din’t move,” he

bragged, “she was bleedin’ all over the floor, and

it was gettin’ on me so I got up and kicked her,”

he paused and took a sip of his beer. Bobby

nodded his head like a proud papa and rubbed

Matthew’s shaggy blonde hair. Bobby grabbed

280

the empty beer bottle from his hand and held it

above his head, “That’s my boy. I love this little

mufucka!” he exclaimed.

He turned his gaze in my direction and yelled,

“Hey, quit being a worthless piece of shit an’ get

yer brother a beer.”

I leapt from my haven behind the couch and

scurried to the fridge. I grabbed a bottle and

hurried back to Bobby. As I handed him the

bottle, he scolded me quietly: “That aint fo’ me

asshole, give it da him.” Matthew smirked, as I

handed him the beer. The party gathered around

Bobby’s chair, begging to hear Matthew recount

his story over and over. It changed with each

telling, getting more graphic each time, until

finally he bragged about having kicked the old

woman to death. No one seemed to notice the

inconsistencies, as they drank and smoked. Some

snorted cocaine from a platter on the table in the

middle of the room. The party only laughed as

Matthew got drunk and rested his head on

281

Bobby’s giant shoulder. Debbie whispered in

Bobby’s ear, and he shook Matthew awake.

“Get up, you all right.”

Matthew’s head rolled around, and he hopped

down onto the floor. Matthew landing firmly on

his feet elicited applause from the room. Bobby

got up and moved into the small hall area.

“Tony wants some; I said not tonight, but I think

you need to tell him,” she pleaded.

“If Tony wants some give him some, ya know he

got tha money. Where he at?” Bobby’s eyes shot

across the room.

Tony was a frequent visitor, and I knew him well.

He was a tall, slender brother with a large afro.

Always dressed in a flashy half-open shirt and

tight pants, he wore the same brown boots as

Bobby. Now he stood in the center of the room,

holding the platter of cocaine to his face, with his

eyes trained on Debbie.

282

Bobby stepped toward me and grabbed my arm,

dragging me to my mother. “Take him with you,

he just in the way out here.”

I watched, as Bobby moved toward Tony and

patted him on the back. Debbie pulled my head

around to face her.

“I love you. You know that, right?” It wasn’t a

question. Her familiar slurred speech and glassy

eyes told me that she was high. “Go sit in the

room like your daddy said. You don’t have to

watch if you don’t want.” She pushed me down