MY 1st BANK JOB

FREEZE!

We rushed inside the bank so quickly that the bank employees looked like it was the end of the world as they knew it. We had caught them with their underwear down! They were bullshitting, laughing and talking, and we never permitted them the chance to regain their composure.

I vaulted over the counter like an Olympic high hurdler, and when I came down on the other side, I swept the teller out of my way as if she was a five foot Barbie doll. "This ain't yo' money, bitch so just lay yo' ass on the floor."

I snatched opened the teller drawer and for a brief period in time, I felt like I was in the Federal Reserve. Money was stacked up like that. Shit, with all that damned paper, nigga just might destabilize the local economy. I wasted no time in going to work as I yanked open the red, plastic bag, and started stuffing money in like I thought it was going to evaporate. I, quite possibly, broke a bank-robbing record for the fastest time in wiping out a teller drawer, but you could believe that my partner was as equally fast as I witnessed him out of the corner of my eye. We met at the center of the long counter after vacuuming two money drawers each. We both smiled, figuring that we were making our way up the millionaire list.

"Let's go!" Lowe yelled, indicating that we had just about worn our welcome out as far as time was concerned, so with a pained expression on my face, I reluctantly dismissed the notion of grabbing the long ray of coins under the counter. Plus, the serious expression on Lowe's face was suggestive enough. It was time to go!

Given the fact that the heist was practically over, and so far, everything had gone according to plan, I could live with the fact that everything from the moment we have charged into the bank had seemed to be in slow motion, but the trek back out of the joint seemed to take forever. It was as if some invisible architect, probably on the government's payroll, had magically re-constructed the entire front lobby, extending the length of the bank by about thirty or forty feet. the black and white tile floor appeared to have hemorrhaged so that in some places, it felt as slippery as an oil slick while in other places, it felt like a nigga was running in sand. I knew that it was just my mind playing tricks on me, but getting to that goddamned door was an epic struggle.

When I got close enough to the door to be thankful, Lowe held up his hand like it was a STOP sign. I was ready to curse the nigga out as he stuck his head out of the door to make sure the coast was clear. Personally, I didn't give a fuck if it did become public knowledge about the crime I had just committed since I was dead-set against letting a motherfucka stop me from spending this money now that it was in my possession.

We made a mad dash to the ride.

"We did it! We did it!" Butch shouted. "We did it!"

"We ain't done shit," Lowe cracked, "until our asses safe back in Piedmont Courts."

I didn't want to add my two cents in and burst his bubble, but I wasn't about to start counting my chickens until I was back at my Mama's house. Yet, I did sense that we had won, and that we, somehow, were on the verge of victory although a lot could go wrong in ten minutes which was about the time it would take us to 10th Street and Seigle Avenue, our safety zone.

Driving through uptown, I flinched as Boo steered the car onto Davidson Street.

"Nigga", I yelled, "this ain't the way we supposed to go."

"I'm taking a shortcut. Now, chill out and let me drive. Y'all niggas done y'all job so let me do mine."

I was about to get mad when I suddenly recognized the genius of what the nigga was attempting. He was taking us through Earle Village, the housing projects just above the projects where we lived. By driving through Earle Village, we would be practically invisible to all outside traffic, and the police wouldn't be in the projects at this time of the morning since niggas didn't start to sell dope down by Paso's until noon.

At the bottom of McDowell Street where Earle Village ended and Piedmont Courts began, I was ready to celebrate because I had just put my days as a broke nigga behind me. Piedmont Courts had never looked any sweeter to me. Bitch shined like The Vatican!

Parking the stolen car at the top of the projects, we all jumped out, except Boo, whose next job was to dump the car in North Charlotte to let them niggas over there take the heat.

Crossing over the big street in the middle of the projects, I involuntarily grew happier than a motherfucker. Butch, Boo, and Lowe felt it as well. Sometimes, a nigga wins.

When I crashed into the back door of my Moms' crib, the celebration was on even before we made it upstairs to my room. The feeling was surreal, absolutely indescribable, and when we dumped the money on the bed, the illusion was amplified a thousand times. It was as though money was all the proof a nigga needed to feel like he was worthy of being alive.

Already, I could hear the police helicopter, Snoopy, flying close by, and a cold chill ran up my spine before slithering back down, tucking itself in at the base of my back.. "Close the door", I barked as though the police in the helicopter could see through the walls of the house, and that the door was the only thing that could save us. "Don't nobody look out the window. Snoopy just flying around." I tried to sound cheerful, but Snoopy had spooked me me out so much that I ignored my own decree and peeled back the curtain to peek out of the window.

I almost pissed on myself. To the immediate right of the crib, Snoopy zoomed into view, looming over the projects like a menacing attack bird. When Lowe asked if I had seen the helicopter, I nodded without speaking, but just as quickly as Snoopy had appeared, it vanished. For a minute, I thought the police were closing in, but I didn't say it aloud. Instead, we divided the money up and we each went our separate ways.