Murder At the Foul Line

When that was over with, I pulled a car over on 5th and Princeton, back by the Old Soldier’s Home, that matched a description of a shooter’s car from earlier in the night. I waited for backup, standing behind the left rear quarter panel of the car, my holster unsnapped, the light from my Mag pointed at the rear window.

When my backup came, we searched the car and frisked the four YBMs. They had those little-tree deodorizers hangin’ from the rearview, and one of those plastic, king-crown deodorizers sitting on the back panel, too. A crown. Like they’re royalty, right? God, sometimes these people make me laugh. Anyhow, they were clean with no live warrants, and we let them go.

I drove around, and it was quiet. Between three a.m. and dawn, the city gets real still. Beautiful in a way, even for down here.

The last thing I did, I helped some Spanish guy try to get back into his place in Petworth. Said his key didn’t work, and it didn’t. Someone, his landlord or his woman, had changed the locks on him, I figured. Liquor stench was pouring out of him. Also, he smelled like he hadn’t taken a shower for days. When I left him he was standing on the sidewalk, sort of rocking back and forth, staring at the front of the row house, like if he looked at it long enough the door was go

So now I’m parked here near the station, sipping coffee. It’s my ritual, like. The sky is begi

I’m thinking that on my next shift, or the one after, I’ll swing by and see Tonio Harris’s mother. I haven’t talked to her in years, anyway. See how she’s been doing. Suggest to her, without acting like I’m telling her what to do, that maybe she ought to have her son lie low some. Stay in the next few weekend nights. Let that beef he’s got with those others, whatever it is, die down. Course, I know those kinds of beefs don’t go away. I’ll make her aware of it, just the same.

The Harris kid, he’s lucky he’s got someone like his mother, lookin’ after him. I drive back in there at the housing complex, and I see those young kids sitting on that wall at two in the morning, looking at me with hate in their eyes, and all I can think of is, where are the parents? Yeah, I know, there’s a new curfew in effect for minors. Some joke. Like we’ve got the manpower and facilities to enforce it. Like we’re supposed to raise these kids, too.

Anyway, it’s not my job to think too hard about that. I’m just lettin’ these people know that we’re out here, watching them. I mean, what else can you do?

My back hurts. I got to get me one of those things you sit on, with the wood balls. Like those African cabdrivers do.

This morning I studied some in my room until my eyes got sleepy. It was hard to keep my mind on the book ’cause I was playin’ some Method Man on the box, and it was fuckin’ with my concentration. That cut he does with Redman, called “Tear It Off”? That joint is tight.

I figured I was done for the day, and there wasn’t no one around to tell me different. My mother was at work at the Dollar Store, and my sister was over at a friend’s. I put my sneaks on and grabbed my ball and headed up to Roosevelt.

I walked up Georgia, dribblin’ the sidewalk when I could, usin’ my left and keeping my right behind my back, like my coach told me to do. I cut down Upshur and walked up 13th, past my school, to the court. The court is on the small side and its backboards are square, with bumper stickers and shit stuck on the boards. It’s beside a te

There was a four-on-four full-court thing happenin’ when I got there. I called next with another guy, Dimitrius Johnson, who I knew could play. I could see who was go

The game started kind of slow. I was feelin’ out my players and those on the other side. Someone had set up a box court-side and they had that live Roots thing playin’. It was one of those pretty days with the sun out and high clouds, the kind look like pillows, and the weather and that upbeat music comin’ from the box set the tone. I felt loose and good.

Me and Hawk was coverin’ each other. He was one of those who could go left or right, dribble or shoot with either hand. He took me to the hole once or twice. Then I noticed he always eye-faked in the opposite direction he was go

I couldn’t shut Hawk down, not all the way, but I forced him to change his game. I made a couple of nice assists on offense and drained one my own self from way downtown. One of Hawk’s players tried to claim a charge, doin’ that Reggie Miller punk shit, his arms windmillin’ as he went back. That shit don’t go in pickup, and even his own people didn’t back him. My team went up by one.

We stopped the game for a minute or so, so one of mines could tie up his sneaks. I was lookin’ across the ball field at the seagulls and crows, catchin’ my wind. That’s when I saw James Wallace’s black Maxima, cruisin’ slow down Allison, that street that runs alongside the court.

We put the ball back into play. Hawk drove right by me, hit a ru

“You playin’, Tone?” asked Dimitrius, the kid on my team.

I guess I had lost my concentration and it showed. “I’m playin’,” I said. “Let’s ball.”

Dimitrius bricked his next shot. Hawk got the ‘bound and brought the ball up. I watched him do that eye-fake thing again and I stole the ball off him in the lane before he could make his move. I went bucket-to-bucket with it and leaped. I jammed the motherfucker and swung on the rim, comin’ down and doin’ one of those Patrick Ewing silent growls at Hawk and the rest of them before shootin’ downcourt to get back on D. I was all fired up. I felt like we could turn the shit around.

Hawk hit his next shot, a jumper from the top of the key. Dimitrius brought it down, and I motioned for him to dish me the pill. He led me just right. In my side sight I saw a black car rollin’ down Allison, but I didn’t stop to check it out. I drove off a pick, pulled up in front of Hawk, made a head move and watched him bite. Then I went up. I was way out there but I could tell from how the ball rolled off my fingers that it was go

We was ru

I took the ball and dribbled it up. I knew what I was go

I was concentratin’ on droppin’ that pill through the hole. Watching myself doin’ it before I did. Out here in the sunshine, every dark thing far away. Ru