In an Instant: A Chicago story
I stood staring blankly as the events unfolded before me. Fully clad in cast-off clothes; hood up, boots laced tight, a young black boy barely over five feet slid effortlessly across the hood of the sleek black Mercedes and held the petrified driver at gunpoint.
"Get out da car now!" he exclaimed. With that, he kicked off the driver's side rearview mirror with his second hand leather combat boots. In haste the driver put the windows up and attempted to lock the doors. Too late! "I said out da car bitch. Now!" barked the boy as the gun shimmered in the morning light. Gun in hand; he cast the aged, timid, white woman out across the cool, cruel pavement and into the hectic intersection. A Septa bus came to a screeching halt, there missed by inches, lay the woman with her gravel laden, lacerated hands about her face.
By this time the boy had sprung into the drivers seat and behind the wheel of the Mercedes, his cold black eyes barely seeing over the wheel. A quick plume of white smoke, and acrid aroma of laid rubber, the boy accelerated into a left turn where a police officer was rounding the corner with his gun drawn.
"Stop that car or I'll shoot," yelled the officer. Bravely, yet in vain, boy swung around the corner forcing the officer to go evasive. Weaving in and then back out of oncoming traffic, the young lad lost control and smashed into the back of the fruit truck carrying fresh peaches from the south docks to the Mom and Pop grocery store on the next corner. Through the chaos and confusion, the lady had risen from the street and sprinted after the boy shrieking through tears, "My Car!...