Paper Chasers by Mark Anthony Page B

had to ride with all of the windows down because the passenger window was broken. That way we wouldn’t look suspicious. Out of habit, or some type of unwritten street law, brothas always tried to look cool when they rode around. Yes, even in the stolen car we tried to look cool. Both of the front seats were reclined all the way back. All three of us sat slumped down, as if we didn’t have backbones, but that’s how you did it if you wanted to mac.
    Dwight asked us where we wanted to go. I suggested that we head out to Freeport, so that’s where we went. Freeport is a middle class neighborhood in Long Island.
    It was bugged, because from the moment that we’d left from in front of Kwame’s house and walked toward the train station’s parking lot, we didn’t talk at all to one another. No one said “peep.” What was also unusual was the fact that none of us was in a joking mood. Although I sensed fear in the hearts of us all, I just wasn’t man enough to stop the madness. Although I thought that I was acting hard, in essence I was the biggest coward for not speaking out against what we were about to do.
    Fear was still in my heart while the three of us rode in the car toward Freeport. But I knew that I had to transform my mind into that of a psychopath, which meant losing all fear. I silently hoped that everyone else in the crew was also transforming themselves.
    The frame of mind of a psychopath was definitely the mindset that we needed to help us commit crimes. I knew that if I was gonna rob someone, I had to strike total fear into the person’s body. How could I strike fear into someone if I myself was also afraid? There was no way I could have done that.
    I was beginning to psych myself up good. The fear was starting to leave my body. Adrenaline was beginning to work on my brain. Yeah , I was thinking, let me see a punk with some gold on! I was ready, ready to walk up on anybody and convince them by my actions that I was indeed down right crazy. Adrenaline was taking over my mind, soul, and body. I was actually starting to believe I was crazy.
    â€œYo! Yo, yo, yo, Wiggie, stop the car. No! No! Drive . . . drive around the block. I got a victim. I got somebody!” I frantically informed.
    Our first robbery was about to take place.
    â€œHolz, what’s up, man?” Dwight inquired.
    â€œThat automatic bank teller over there, that cash machine. I’ma get somebody coming out.”
    â€œA’ight,” Dee said as he began to breathe a little heavier. “OK, OK, we’re gonna let you out here and we’ll wait for you right down the block near that bus stop. Just go jack the first cat that you see and then haul your ass back into the car and we’ll be out.”
    â€œYeah, OK,” I said. “Let me out.”
    I immediately walked across the street and followed a woman inside the bank. The cash machine wasn’t exactly located inside the bank. Rather, it was portioned off from the main part of the bank where you would go to apply for a loan and stuff like that. I guess it was set up that way to cause less confusion to the customers.
    So I followed the lady as she walked toward the bank. I continued to walk right behind her as she made her way to the ATM. I wouldn’t have been able to gain access to that part of the bank unless I too had an ATM card, which I didn’t, so I had to stick to the lady like glue.
    Once inside I saw a line of about five people. I got on the end of the line and acted as if I were a regular customer. I didn’t know who to rob, but I knew that I had to first wait for somebody to withdraw a good amount of money before I made my move.
    My heart thumped as I nervously waited for the right moment to strike. I was so nervous that I thought I was going to un-psych myself and not follow through with the robbery.
    Man, I wasn’t cut out for this. I was two seconds from bouncing and punking out when an angry