5/14/02

My neighbor Allen told a story about another neighbor Royce across the alley.

Several years back, when Royce was actively dealing drugs, Allen and Gator had noticed a pattern. A car would stop along our street (Virginia), and someone would put something in the bushes next to the house behind ours. Royce would appear presently and fish around in those bushes. Then the car would reappear a while later to retrieve something from the bushes. And that would be that.

One evening a car stopped, and someone put something in the bushes while Allen and Gator were watching (they’d been standing in the garage visiting). After the car left, they went over to check out the bushes and found $25. Which they took. Then Royce came by and rustled around in the bushes—without finding anything, of course—and left. Soon the car returned. Someone rummaged in the bushes, unsuccessfully, and then the car went to Royce’s house. Then a great argument, unholy terror erupted at Royce’s house.

Hearing it, Gator and Allen turned to each other. One asked, “You s’pose we ought to say or do something? The other said, “Nope—you’ve got $12.50 and I’ve got $12.50. If they kill him what’s wrong with that?”