Paper Chasers by Mark Anthony Page A

. um, I’m ready.”
    â€œSo come down to my crib right now.”
    â€œA’ight . . . I’m coming.”
    I slipped on my black Nike Airs. Then I reached my hand under my bed until I got ahold of a metal, silver-gray box. After opening the box I reached in and pulled out a black 9 mm handgun. I inserted a clip into the gun and I proceeded to place the gun on my bed. I thought about bringing my .22 automatic, but I decided against it because it was too small and un-intimidating. I put the box, which was full of back-up ammunition, back underneath my bed.
    That picture of Jesus kept following me. I tried to ignore it and I grabbed my gun and my ski mask. I tucked the ski mask into my back pocket, stuffed the nine into the front of my pants, and pulled my shirt over it to cover the bulge. Before I left my house I said, “Lord, please watch over us, please.”
    Randy and I were leaving our houses at the exact same time. As we walked to Kwame’s crib we saw that everybody was already outside and waiting. By then it was 7:30 A.M . When Randy and I reached Kwame’s gate, Dwight didn’t waste any time. Without giving us a pound or asking what’s up, Dwight immediately started to give out instructions.
    â€œA’ight, this is how we’re gonna do this. Me, Wiggie, and Holz are going together. We’ll be FC1. Kwame, Latiefe, and Donnie, y’all go together, and y’all will be FC2. Randy, Earl, J.P., and Erik, y’all four will be with one another, and y’all will be FC3.”
    Dwight reminded us to stay out of Laurelton and Rosedale. For one, we lived in Laurelton, and the town of Rosedale was too close to our neighborhood.
    â€œYo, we gots to go out to Long Island ’cause that’s where the money is at,” Dwight told us. “If y’all do stay in Queens, make sure that y’all go to towns like Bayside, or Rego Park, places like that—the white areas. But remember try not to stay too long in white neighborhoods ’cause we’ll stick out like an aroused penis in a pair of swimming trunks.”
    We all started to walk toward Rosedale. Latiefe guided us to the Long Island Railroad. The LIRR stopped in Rosedale to take passengers either into the city or in the opposite direction which was further out east on Long Island. At the Rosedale stop on the LIRR there was a tremendous parking lot. Every morning commuters would drive their cars to the parking lot and board the train. They’d leave their cars in the unattended parking lot until they returned from work.
    Most of those commuters worked in the city. And just like most New Yorkers, the act of parking their cars and taking the train to work was almost an unwanted necessity simply because the city was so congested with cars, leaving drivers who ventured into Manhattan with either no place to park or stuck in traffic jams. Stated simply, most commuters found the train much more convenient. Unfortunately for the commuters, we planned to capitalize on that convenience.
    â€œA’ight, each group pick out a car, and let’s be out,” Latiefe quickly stated once we made it to the parking lot.
    Our three man posse, FC1, picked a Pontiac Grand Am. FC2 picked out a Toyota Celica. FC3 decided to ride in a Pontiac 6000. Like amateurs, we broke the driver’s window of each car, unlocked the doors, got in, popped the ignition and in less than five minutes we had ourselves getaway cars. We knew that the cars wouldn’t be reported stolen until after 6:00 P.M . That’s when the owners of the cars returned from work, but by that time we would have long gotten rid of the car.
    At that point there was no more planning. We had to rely only on our instincts if we wanted to figure out where the members of each separate posse were at during the day, and what exactly they were doing.
    Wiggie was the driver of our car. Dwight sat in the passenger seat and I sat in the back. Of course we