Robinson's Hood by Jeff Gottesfeld

Author:Jeff Gottesfeld
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Saddleback Educational Publishing
Published: 2014-08-17T16:10:58+00:00

Chapter Seven

It was totally against his grandmother’s rules for Robin to go out alone after dark.

He did it anyway.

First, though, he prepared himself.

He put on black pants, a black shirt, and a black hoodie so that he might blend in with the night. He didn’t wear shoes, just socks, so there’d be no footfalls on the street. He locked the apartment door behind him and made sure the building door was locked when he went out into the night.

His heart pounded as he looked both ways. He was not supposed to be doing this. The dealers were at either end of Ninth Street. No traffic. No one on foot. He darted across the street, heading for the landing where he’d seen the lookout do his thing.

Is this the most dumb-ass thing I’ve ever done? If that dude comes back, I’m dead!

He stepped down below street level to the flat area with the garbage bags. It stunk of stale beer and vomit. Before he started moving garbage bags, he checked to see if he was being watched. He wasn’t. So he quietly started moving the bags, hoping to uncover the same loose stone the lookout had moved.

He breathed heavily. The bags were noisy. They stunk in his hands so much he almost barfed. He winced as he picked up one really heavy bag full of cans and bottles that rattled like a passing train. He was sure the lookouts would hear that.

Somehow, they didn’t.

Finally, he’d moved all the bags. He wiped the sweat from his forehead and tried to figure out which paving stone was the loose one. He dropped to his knees and dug at the edges of one of the pavers. It didn’t budge.

Another. Another. And another, and another, and another.

It wasn’t until his fingers were raw and he was about to give up that one actually moved.

Omigod. This is it!

The paver under his fingers turned out to be a fake, made to look like the others. It didn’t weigh more than a tray of shrimp. Robin lifted it with ease.

No time to waste now. If the lookout came back, he wasn’t just dead. He was double-dead.

Heart racing, breath shallow, he reached into the hole the fake paver had covered. It was so dark that he couldn’t really see, so he rooted around blindly until—

Yes!

An envelope! A thick envelope!

What’s in it? Vials of crack? Smack? Money? All of the above?

He grabbed the envelope and shoved it in his waistband. Now he had to get out of there. Someone in the building could hear him. His grandmother could come home and find him missing. The lookout could come back. Both lookouts could come!

For a brief instant, Robin thought about tossing the envelope back in the hole, putting back the fake paver, tossing some garbage bags over the paver, and running home. That was the smart thing to do.

But no. He’d come this far. He hated the Rangers so much, and this envelope had to belong to them. So he replaced the fake paver and moved all the disgusting garbage bags back.

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