Robbed
At Gunpoint
I thought the whole
thing strange
as I walked S on Hoyne saw them
drive slow then back into a space
in front of my house apparently once
they saw the victim.
Male African-American with a female
African-American accomplice in a light
brown Chevy-looking-1978-maybe
long broken and rusted car.
He wore a light brown/tan winter
coat with a dark brown collar, 5'8'',
mid-thirties, premature wrinkles
especially around the eyes. Brown,
short/medium cropped curly hair,
dirty silver gun with striations around
the thin barrel all the way back.
Heard the crickety rusted door slam.
Then this guy comes into view past the
bushes (not really turning the corner
but coming from the trajectory of the car
that just parked maybe there was
somebody in it still)
and he went past me then came back on me.
He asked for a cigarette I said
I don’t got nothing.
Then I gave him one
to make it less
complicated. Went for my door.
He was still behind me.
Still I didn't have my keys out
"Hey Man you got any money?"
Turn around, he is in the gangster stance
he's got my own
cigarette
hanging from the corner of his mouth
with the gun tight to his left hip.
I look at the gun and he says it again—
“Got any money?” I say fuck you.
I’m just surprised and he knows it,
he says something about being serious.
I go in my pocket.
Pull out the FIVE that I had left
after Buck-a-Ball pool @ Jurek's as house.
He says “how much is this?”
From the car she says, “pat him down”.
He sees it’s a FIVE "got any more?". No.
"Go on," he says,
"I'm not gonna fuck with you"
I believed him.
I walk with my hands
in the coat pockets near my shoulders briskly
turn the corner right on Hoyne and
don't look back.
They get into the car
quick and go straight on Evergreen.
© 1995 Daniel X. O'Neil |
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