Free Paper Chasers by Mark Anthony Page A

asked.
    â€œâ€™Cause we might not always have the time to frisk, so if we frisk or not, still make the muthas turn around and run, or make them get on the ground,” Dwight answered.
    The lesson on how to jack somebody was over and we’d made it back to Queens. We decided to go somewhere secluded, park the car, sit in it, and just chill. Robbing that guy had sparked many new ideas. We had his credit cards, but we all agreed that wouldn’t have been wise to try to use them. We discussed how we could have taken his car if we’d wanted to.
    Then we talked about carjacking, which Dwight thought was a great idea, but we first had to find ourselves a chop shop. A chop shop was a place where you took stolen cars, and in return you’d get money for the cars. Depending on what type of car we could get our hands on, the reward was sure to be high. If we got our hands on a 1991 Mercedes Benz, we could probably get two thousand dollars for it. But again, we would first have to find a chop shop, so taking cars for now would have to wait.
    â€œWe got his driver’s license,” Dwight said. “Why don’t we just wait until tonight and break into his house?”
    â€œNah, I ain’t doing that! No way!” I quickly responded. Wiggie agreed with me.
    â€œDwight, that’s too risky, ’cause we don’t know what people have inside their house, or who may be inside the house. For all we know there could be a man on the other side of the door with a shotgun, waiting to blow our heads off as soon as we step inside.”
    â€œAh man!” Dwight said. “Yo, y’all niggas is soft! It don’t matter whose inside the house, ’cause whoever might be in the crib ain’t gonna know who they’re dealing with. Man, I don’t care who’s in the house or what kind of weapons or dogs or whatever they may have. Nobody is iller than me! Nobody! Besides, I thought we were supposed to be a bunch of ruthless hooligans! What’s up with y’all?”
    I didn’t care. Call me soft or what have you, but I wasn’t gonna be a cat burglar. I didn’t have it in me.
    â€œLook,” Dwight added, “OK, if we do it, we’re doing it in the daytime, a’ight? Besides, we don’t have to go back to that kid’s crib if that’s what y’all are thinking, because maybe y’all are right. It probably won’t be worth it. But yo, how about this? Why don’t we just pick someone’s crib at random, break in, and rob it?”
    â€œAre you crazy, Dwight!?” I asked.
    Dwight looked at me as if he was indeed crazy, but he didn’t say anything.
    â€œListen to this,” Wiggie schemed, “instead of us breaking into people’s houses, why don’t we get them to let us in?”
    â€œCome on now. Wiggie, ain’t nobody gonna open their door for any one of us,” I replied.
    â€œI know that,” Wiggie said as he started up the car and we drove off. “I got a plan. Just hear me out. See, let’s go out to Amityville . . .”
    As we drove out to Amityville, Wiggie laid out his plan.
    â€œThis is how we gonna do this. We’re gonna drive around until we see a delivery truck or something like that, any type of work truck. When we find one we’ll follow it, because eventually it’s gonna go to someone’s house for a delivery. We’ll just wait for that someone to open their door, then boom! We push our way in. It’ll work, I’m telling y’all.”
    â€œYou know I’m wit it,” Dwight quickly responded.
    I guess that the two of them automatically assumed that I too was going along with the plan. So I did go along with it, even though I didn’t like it.
    Again, I caught myself starting to regain a conscience. I had to remind myself, No conscience, Holz, none whatsoever.
    â€œOnce we get inside a house,” Wiggie continued, “Dwight, you head