minutes left. What if the bus arrived early? Pay it no mind. He had to try his luck. That was all he had, he thought as he jetted off to the 7-11 store.
Justice planned to ask the clerk for three-bucks to get the bus home. It was a long shot but worth a try. He turned into the parking lot and saw a Black man in his early twenties. He told the man that he had an argument with his girlfriend and that the police were called and he was escorted out of the home.
“ Problem is,” Justice began to lie. “I didn’t put on my jeans with my money in the pocket and she told them that I didn’t have any money there or clothes, so I am stuck. I need to get back to NY, so I need five-dollars for the bus.”
# # #
During the ride to New York, Amir consistently tried to explain himself and hoped that Justice understood. He didn’t. Justice had a low tolerance for failure, and he was very critical and analytical. There was not anything that Amir could say to diffuse the anger that Justice had built up. With no other avenues to get him off Justice’s Shit List Lane, he sat back, and rode in silence.
Justice worked the phone. He had to continue to work to get them home, while Amir sat there. It was nice. Justice got Nick on the line and told him to use his personal credit card to order two Greyhound tickets for them to get home. He also told him to Western Union him $1,000 of the money in his glove compartment.
The bus pulled into the New York Port Authority Bus Terminal, and the two of them stepped off the bus. They snaked through the corridors and up the stairs to the 24-hour ticket counter. Justice obtained the tickets and then headed out to the corner of W 42 nd and 8 th Avenue. They found a 24-hour Western Union location, grabbed the $1,000 and headed back to the bus terminal. The bus boarded at 1:35 a.m. and headed back to Philadelphia.
When it came time for the bus to load passengers, Justice handed Amir his ticket. Amir entered the line, and Justice hung back. Amir looked over his shoulder at Justice. Come the hell on. Why are you standing there?
“ You’re coming, right?”
“ Not right now. I need to clear my head. Think a little. You go home.”
“ What! You’re acting real weird. I am not getting on that bus without you. You high?”
“ Suit ya self,” Justice said and headed up the stairs toward the exit.
Amir stood there stumped for a second. He had no idea what to do. He could not leave Justice in New York with so much on his mind. He ran behind him.
“ Justice. Justice.”
Justice ignored him.
“ Justice!” he said, forcefully.
“ What! Damn! Leave me the fuck alone. I can’t be near you or anyone right now. I do not have shit. Nobody! My family gave up on me as hopeless years ago. The girlfriend I loved left me years ago. I’m in this fuckin’ world alone. Nobody wants me, but the damn Secret Service.”
“ You got me. What the fuck you talking about? I ain’t leaving you, so you can book that idea, homey. We started this shit together, and that’s how it ends.”
Justice stopped walking up 8 th Avenue. He faced Amir, and said, “Save yourself. I’m poison. You’re on state parole, don’t fuck up now by running behind me, dawg.”
“ Listen, dick head. You have to be crazy or stupid if you think that the Woodbridge police will not find that I am on parole. If you think that I want to report to my PO and be kept, you are also crazy or stupid. You have a measly $1,000 and no check book or ID, ‘cause you threw it under a car, remember?”
“ So?”
“ Listen, man. There’s one thing that I know. That grand won’t do anything for you. I say that we go to your favorite hotel. Have Alimu-Shine ship your computer to the hotel, and we go to work like you told me you did when we were locked in that cell. We can relocate and get new identities and live happily ever after.”
“ That shit sounds good verbally, but it will never work.”
Amir whistled for a taxi. “We are
Justice planned to ask the clerk for three-bucks to get the bus home. It was a long shot but worth a try. He turned into the parking lot and saw a Black man in his early twenties. He told the man that he had an argument with his girlfriend and that the police were called and he was escorted out of the home.
“ Problem is,” Justice began to lie. “I didn’t put on my jeans with my money in the pocket and she told them that I didn’t have any money there or clothes, so I am stuck. I need to get back to NY, so I need five-dollars for the bus.”
# # #
During the ride to New York, Amir consistently tried to explain himself and hoped that Justice understood. He didn’t. Justice had a low tolerance for failure, and he was very critical and analytical. There was not anything that Amir could say to diffuse the anger that Justice had built up. With no other avenues to get him off Justice’s Shit List Lane, he sat back, and rode in silence.
Justice worked the phone. He had to continue to work to get them home, while Amir sat there. It was nice. Justice got Nick on the line and told him to use his personal credit card to order two Greyhound tickets for them to get home. He also told him to Western Union him $1,000 of the money in his glove compartment.
The bus pulled into the New York Port Authority Bus Terminal, and the two of them stepped off the bus. They snaked through the corridors and up the stairs to the 24-hour ticket counter. Justice obtained the tickets and then headed out to the corner of W 42 nd and 8 th Avenue. They found a 24-hour Western Union location, grabbed the $1,000 and headed back to the bus terminal. The bus boarded at 1:35 a.m. and headed back to Philadelphia.
When it came time for the bus to load passengers, Justice handed Amir his ticket. Amir entered the line, and Justice hung back. Amir looked over his shoulder at Justice. Come the hell on. Why are you standing there?
“ You’re coming, right?”
“ Not right now. I need to clear my head. Think a little. You go home.”
“ What! You’re acting real weird. I am not getting on that bus without you. You high?”
“ Suit ya self,” Justice said and headed up the stairs toward the exit.
Amir stood there stumped for a second. He had no idea what to do. He could not leave Justice in New York with so much on his mind. He ran behind him.
“ Justice. Justice.”
Justice ignored him.
“ Justice!” he said, forcefully.
“ What! Damn! Leave me the fuck alone. I can’t be near you or anyone right now. I do not have shit. Nobody! My family gave up on me as hopeless years ago. The girlfriend I loved left me years ago. I’m in this fuckin’ world alone. Nobody wants me, but the damn Secret Service.”
“ You got me. What the fuck you talking about? I ain’t leaving you, so you can book that idea, homey. We started this shit together, and that’s how it ends.”
Justice stopped walking up 8 th Avenue. He faced Amir, and said, “Save yourself. I’m poison. You’re on state parole, don’t fuck up now by running behind me, dawg.”
“ Listen, dick head. You have to be crazy or stupid if you think that the Woodbridge police will not find that I am on parole. If you think that I want to report to my PO and be kept, you are also crazy or stupid. You have a measly $1,000 and no check book or ID, ‘cause you threw it under a car, remember?”
“ So?”
“ Listen, man. There’s one thing that I know. That grand won’t do anything for you. I say that we go to your favorite hotel. Have Alimu-Shine ship your computer to the hotel, and we go to work like you told me you did when we were locked in that cell. We can relocate and get new identities and live happily ever after.”
“ That shit sounds good verbally, but it will never work.”
Amir whistled for a taxi. “We are
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