Empowerment. Engagement. Authenticity.
It's a Crime - Dirty Hands
“How many people fled – “ Officer Mohan fumbled
for a simpler word when the scrawny vagrant gaped blankly, “– ran from
the store?”
“Dey din’t run, dey had a car.”
“Right.” Mohan swallowed his impatience and tried not to gag. In the
heat, the reek of urine and stale alcohol rivaled the stinking toe tree
on the street corner. Trinidad hadn’t seen rain in weeks. “How many
people got into the car?” he pressed.
“Three coolie and two nigger.”
Mohan scribbled on his notepad. “Three Indians and two blacks. What
happened before that?”
“Musta been a slow night at Throb,” the vagrant slouched against a
wall of graffiti and cracked his grimy knuckles as if preparing to tell
a juicy story.”because de music shut down early and de strippers hustle
off. Didn’t even blow me a kiss.” He sucked his wobbly teeth. “Den I see
these five ninjas duck their heads outta de alley by the store, like dey
scopin’ out who around.”
“Ninjas?”
“Like in kung fu movies. All in black and nuttin’ showin’ but dey eyes.”
“How you know is three coolie and two nigger, then?” Mohan demanded,
annoyance making him slip from academy speak to street lingo.
“Is I tellin’ dis story,” the vagrant preened. “They go back into de
alley and I follow real sneaky like Rambo to see what goin’ on. Dey had
a station wagon park behind de store. De bigger nigger – niggers strong
like hell - haul the air conditioner outta de wall. Then he and de three
coolie jump through the hole like monkeys. Other nigger pop de trunk on
de car and stand as lookout.”
“Then what?” Mohan prompted.
“Things start flyin’ outta de hole – Three hundred dollar Reeboks and
Levis. Lookout nigger catchin’ it like soap bubbles and loadin’ de car.
When de four climb back outta de store, tha’s when dey pull off their
masks.”
“License plate?” Mohan asked but he was distracted by the prospect of
brand-new shoes.
“Know where they took the merchandise?”
“License PAC 3008.” The vagrant’s voice turned sly. “When de lookout
spot me, he pass me a hundred to stay quiet. Dat hundred you pass me to
start talkin’ done. Gimmee another hundred and I go tell ya where to
find the goods.”
Mohan passed the vagrant two hundred. “The extra is for you to shut your
mouth about our deal,” he warned, thinking how thrilled his sons would
be with their new sneakers.
“For sure, boss. I’s an honest businessman.”
(c) Kristy Kassie, 2017
It's a Crime
Telling a crime story allows you to build suspense and show action.
I should also point out that the racial slurs in this story are meant to show the crude, uneducated attitude of the character and do not reflect my views.
