R.I.P. Chancy Bradshaw
My cousin Chancy died in a car accident last week, the day after Thanksgiving. Apparently he was drinking at the bar with his fiancee, and as they were leaving she told him that he was too drunk to drive home, and to let her. Chancy, being just as stubborn as I remembered him, set out to prove her wrong. So he was driving his truck home, rolled it, and died a few hours later at the hospital.
When I was 15 years old, my parents decided they couldn't handle me anymore, I was getting into a lot of trouble and they didn't know how to deal with it at the time. They sent me to Arizona to live with my Aunt and Uncle and their 10 kids. Their family was a little different than I was used to, that was pretty apparent the from the day I arrived.
They lived on a farm with horses, chickens, a rooster... the whole nine yards. I walked into the house wearing a powell skateboard shirt, dickies sagging off my ass, and a chain hanging from my wallet. My Uncle wasn't having it. You see, he raised his family with an iron fist, was about as stubborn as an ox, and if you didn't like it, tough shit, that's the way it was. So he tried to yank the pants off me so I could squeeze into the pair of Wranglers he was holding. I literally had to fight him off, and finally he gave in. That wasn't the only time I would come to throws with my Uncle, but it was about the only time I had gotten my way with something. Good thing too, I would have looked rediculous in those ass-huggers.
I remember one day I was skating out on the driveway, and Chancy, who was only 12 or 13 or at the time and the second youngest of the group, came out to watch me skate. He was pretty impressed with what I could do, I didn't think it was much, but to someone who has never seen a kickflip before in their life I can understand how cool it must look. So I told him he could ride it if he laid down on the ground. He didn't ask, just did it. I said, "all right dude, stay still, I'm gonna ollie over you". I don't think he even knew what an ollie was, but he didn't care, he just said "okay, go for it". I was suprised that he trusted me... hell I didn't even trust me. But what the hell, I did it anyways and he didn't even flinch. So I let him ride my board and even tried to teach him a few tricks, but I think the wranglers and cowboy boots made it pretty difficult for the kid.
I hated living with my Uncle. I figured the only way I was going to go home was if I got my act together and did it their way, so I tried. I went to church with them every Sunday, brought home report cards with nothing but A's and B's, joined the guy's volleyball team, even got a job at McDonald's and gave my whole paycheck to my Uncle to help cover my living expenses. I still couldn't catch a break. The leash around my neck never loosened a bit, so I decided to take the other route. I said screw it and started drinking and smoking pot again, stealing money at work, even took acid one day at school and later that day at work. I didn't come home one day after school so my Uncle called the cops on me. They were waiting for me when I got home and hauled me off to Juvi. When I got out, I said screw it, nobody here is on my side, and decided the only way I was going to get home was on my own.
I took off one day after school with a couple guys named Kramer and Jer. We were all smoking it up in Kramer's room, and I told them about my plan... actually, there wasn't really a plan, just a goal - to get back home to California. Jer said I could stay in this RV that was parked in the backyard as long as I needed to, which I did for a couple days until the owner came over in the middle of the night, kicked me out, and took it away. Kramer's dad was a cop, so he said I couldn't stay at his place, but to wait at this park and he would meet me there and figure something out. I waited for a couple hours, realized he wasn't coming, and ended up sleeping on the roof of an elementary school. I spent that night wondering how things got this way, and wondered if anyone ever slept on the roof of my elementary school when I was a kid, and cried myself to sleep.
The next day I met up with some friends from school, Ray, Jay, and Preston. We all went to the mall, where I somehow managed to jack about $500 worth of clothes for me and my buddies. Of course after that they wanted to hang out all the time, Ray let me sleep on a couch in his backyard, which I gratefully accepted.
I still had no idea how I was going to get back to California, I was just having fun being young and free. Me and Preston took 12 pills of coricidin and a couple shots of vodka and walked around the mall, high as hell. Jay skated so me and him always hit up this makeshift skatepark called the Wedge. I stole my breakfast, lunch, and dinner from the same 7-11 around the corner, and everything else from a Walgreen's up the street. I went to Target almost every day while my buds were in school, and each time I would walk out with a discman or some other expensive piece of electronic equipment with the intention to sell them off to my friends and buy a bus ticket home. It didn't work out that way, I usually just let them have the stuff.
One particular incident made me begin to wonder about fate and being in the right place at the right time. I was hanging out on the benches next to Target, smoking a cigarette, when this dude came out and asked me to bum one. I handed him one and we started bullshitting. I think I told him my situation, and he was cool, wished me luck, and he went on his way. So I threw my backback over my shoulder and headed into Target, ready to pull off another heist. The way I operated was I would walk into the electronics section, grab two of whatever it is I wanted, walk around for a while until I found an aisle with no cameras, stuff one in my backpack, and take the other one and put it back where I found it. I would then go into a bathroom stall and peel off the sensors, flush them down the toilet, and walk out the door. Well this particular time, I was busy doing my thing in the bathroom, I had just peeled the last sensor off when I heard the bathroom door open and a voice over a walkie talkie saying "alright, he's in the men's restroom". I freaked. I stuffed the shit in my bag, flushed the toilet and opened the door, ready to book it out of there. When I did, I saw the dude that I bummed a smoke to outside, standing there in a Security jacket and a walkie talkie. He looked just as suprised as me. He said "oh, hey... you didn't take anything from here did you?" I managed to utter "no". He said "okay, thats what I thought", and walked me out of the bathroom where there were two big ass security gaurds waiting. He said, "don't worry about it" and let me go. As I approached the door, I just remember hoping more than anything that I had removed all the sensors from the merchandise, and taking a deep sigh of relief as I walked out that door.
I remember that particular halloween we all went around bagsnatching and ran into one of Jay's friends, this older dude name Santino. He was pretty drunk, but he had a truck, so we all piled in the back so he could give us a ride to wherever we were going at the time. We pulled into a shopping center so Santino could show us the posi he just had put on his truck. He started doing burnouts in the parking lot while we were all in the back screaming for more. He popped it in reverse, punched the gas, and slammed right into the back of a parked car. We all got jerked around in the back, but no one was seriously hurt. Santino turned around and yelled "get the fuck out!" so we jumped ship and ran away about as fast as Santino drove.
While living with Ray I got to know a little bit more about him. Like that his father was a convicted felon, for what he wouldn't say. But he told me that when his father was younger he would go to parties and take a bunch of uppers until his heart was about to explode, and then take a bunch of downers until he passed out, and people would bet on whether or not he was going to die. He was a big boy, and just talking to the guy you could tell he wasn't right in the head, like at any given time something could set him off and he would just snap. I was supposed to stay outside while Ray was at school, but sometimes I would get bored and break into the house and play nintendo or something. One day I decided to go into Ray's dad's room, and almost pissed myself when I did. The place was a dump, but there was a big tank with about 4 or 5 pythons in it, and guns and knives scattered all over the room. I picked up one of the guns and I got the bright idea that I was going to pawn it and buy my ticket to Cali... that's about the moment when shit hit the fan.
I was walking down Main Street in Mesa, looking for a pawnshop with a high-point 9mm in my waistband. I was cutting through a parking lot back behind a shopping center when I see a white truck come to a screeching halt in the middle of the street, flip a bitch, and turn into the parking lot. As it got closer I realize it's Santino's truck, so I wave him over, but he's already got that idea in mind. I was wondering what the hell happened to him that night, and as I get ready to greet him, he jumps out of the truck, grabs me, and slams me against the hood. I ask him what the hell's the matter with him and he tells me that someone told him I ratted him out to the cops, because they were waiting for him when he got home. I asked him who told him that, because it was a damn lie. He said it wasn't important and pulled out a rambo-style hunting knife from its holster and told me if I didn't fess up to it he was going to spill my guts right there on the pavement. I freaked out and broke free, grabbed the gun from my waist and pointed it dead at his forehead. I could tell by the look in his eyes that he wasn't expecting that to happen, and neither was I. I told him I didn't rat him out, and whoever said so is a damn liar. He said he believed me and that no one really told him that, he just wanted to scare me into admitting something. I looked down and realized I had been walking backwards the whole time, so when I got far enough away I turned around and cut through some bushes and ran as fast as I could. I didn't look back to see if he was following me, but something told me I wouldn't have to worry about Santino anymore.
A pawnshop gave me $50 for the gun, and I headed back to Ray's, still a little shaken. When I got there, he had already heard that something went down. Apparently word travelled fast in that circle. I was trying to figure out a way to explain how I got the gun, but I decided to just tell him the truth. He was understandably pissed, but he said he wouldn't tell his dad about it, saying he would probably kill me if he found out. I started laughing, but Ray sat there straightfaced with this far off look in his eyes, and I realized he wasn't kidding.
Ray and I were sitting out back when we heard his dad's RV pull up, a vehicle that definately suited the man's size. We sat there apprehensively as I heard the front door open and close, followed by footsteps on the hardwood floor, and finally the bedroom door slamming shut. We again sat in an optimistic silence until we heard Ray's dad call out for his son. We both looked at eachother, then he got up and went into his dad's room. I remember sitting there thinking "there's no way he's going to notice one little gun missing from his room", i mean, they were EVERYWHERE! After about 5 minutes Ray came back out and told me his dad wanted to talk to me. From the look in his eyes I knew that he knew. I was thinking about making a run for it, I had my escape route planned, I would hit the freeway and thumb it all the way back to Cali... but I realized that Ray might take a beating for that one, so I decided to man up and deal with it.
I walked into the room to see Ray's dad lying on his bed, no shirt on, just a big, fat hairy blob of a man. I stood there in the corner of the room wondering what to say, but he cut right to the chase. "Where's my gun?" he asked. I told him "I don't have it, but I can get it back". He motioned for me to come closer, and before I knew it he had grabbed me by the chain I wore around my neck and started choking the shit out of me, screaming in my ear something about killing people for less, I didn't really catch most of it, as my oxygen supply was rapidly diminishing. Then, saved by the grace of cheap taiwanese manufacturing, the chain around my neck broke of in Ray's dad's hand, sending me sprawling backwards. I got up and bolted for the door, the sound of Ray's dad screaming something about cutting my balls off followed me until I reached the park down the street.
I sat there, out of breath, trying to figure out what to do. Ray joined me soon after and I asked him what I should do. He told me, point blank, I better get that gun back, and not to even THINK about running because his dad would hunt me down for the rest of his life and kill me. I knew he didn't mean that metaphorically either. So, the next day I skated down to the pawn shop and pleaded with the guy to sell me the gun back, but he was playing hardball. I said look, I'll even throw in my slightly used santa cruz skateboard, you can get at least another $50 for it. He took the deal and as I handed the cash and board over to him all I could think about was how much I wanted to bash him over the head with it, kick his face in and take the gun. But instead I just smiled and thanked the bastard.
I returned the gun to Ray, but thought it best, for the sake of my balls, to find another place to stay. Jay lived right up the street, and he had a little Dodge Omni hatchback that he let me crash in. I actually considered it an upgrade, seeing as it was November and it got pretty damn cold at nights, even raining occasionally. So me and Jay hung out alot, having fun and getting into the usual trouble. Everything was cool, but then one night I was walking by Ray's house and noticed smoke coming from the vent on the side of the house. I knew ray and his dad were visiting relatives for Thanksgiving, so I ran over to the neighbors and told them to call 911. I didn't stick around for the fire department to get there, fearing the cops might run my name and haul my ass back to Juvi.
A couple days later I was over at Preston's watching him and Jay skate (since I didn't have my board anymore because of the bastard), when all of a sudden a truck pulls up to the house and three or four dudes hop out, including Ray. He walks up to me and pops me in the nose. I turn around and yell "WTF?" He told me his neighbors said I was over at the house and they thought that I set the fire. I told him what happened, that I happened to be walking by and noticed the smoke, and that he should be kissing my ass because if it weren't for me the whole house would have burned to the ground. He told me to get in the truck, that we were gonna go somewhere. I didn't really have much of a choice, so I hopped in the back and we drove off.
As I sat in the back with Ray, I could see him thinking about what I had just told him. I knew he believed me, he just wanted someone to blame. Then he said something about "wanting to believe me" or some b.s. like that, and to make it up to him, we were going to go to the mall and I was gonna jack a bunch of clothes for him and his friends. I thought to myself, this is fucking rediculous. But I said hey, if it'll make you feel better, fine, whatever. So we went to the mall and I pulled the ultimate heist. I walked out of there about 30 pounds heavier, wearing about 6 layers of clothes worth somewhere around $1000 dollars. I met up with them later and after handing over the goods, Ray's mood seemed to change in an instant. Everything was cool again. Amazing. I would have been content never to see that douchebag again.
I don't know what made me do it. Maybe I was tired. Maybe I felt bad. Maybe I just missed my family. It had been two months since I'd spoken to my Uncle, but I decided to call, just to let him know I was alright. I expected hellfire and brimstone, but what I got was soft-spoken compassion. He told me he wanted to talk, to stay where I was, that he would come get me. I agreed. I sat there wondering what if this is a trick? What if he calls the cops and they lock me up? I definately wouldn't put it past him. But I decided to wait. When he pulled up, I climbed in and sat in silence, waiting for him to make the first move. He asked how I was, and that's when I lost it. I broke down, trying to explain everything that had happened, but instead it came out as one giant, bumbling mess of words. He asked me what I wanted, and I told him, truthfully, I just want to go home. So he said "fine", and drove me to the greyhound station, bought me a ticket to San Francisco, and sent me on my way.
For the past seven years, everytime I look back on this experience, I think about the lessons I learned and how it shaped my life to become the person I am today. All the times I sat and wondered to myself, what if things happened differently, would anything in my life be different? Never ONCE did I stop to consider that lives other than my own were affected by my actions. What if I had never taken that gun? What if I didn't give the Target security gaurd a smoke? ...what if I had stuck it out at my Uncle's house, tried to make the best of the situation, and BEEN A BETTER ROLE MODEL FOR MY COUSIN? I guess I'll never really know, but I will ALWAYS be left to wonder.
When I was 15 years old, my parents decided they couldn't handle me anymore, I was getting into a lot of trouble and they didn't know how to deal with it at the time. They sent me to Arizona to live with my Aunt and Uncle and their 10 kids. Their family was a little different than I was used to, that was pretty apparent the from the day I arrived.
They lived on a farm with horses, chickens, a rooster... the whole nine yards. I walked into the house wearing a powell skateboard shirt, dickies sagging off my ass, and a chain hanging from my wallet. My Uncle wasn't having it. You see, he raised his family with an iron fist, was about as stubborn as an ox, and if you didn't like it, tough shit, that's the way it was. So he tried to yank the pants off me so I could squeeze into the pair of Wranglers he was holding. I literally had to fight him off, and finally he gave in. That wasn't the only time I would come to throws with my Uncle, but it was about the only time I had gotten my way with something. Good thing too, I would have looked rediculous in those ass-huggers.
I remember one day I was skating out on the driveway, and Chancy, who was only 12 or 13 or at the time and the second youngest of the group, came out to watch me skate. He was pretty impressed with what I could do, I didn't think it was much, but to someone who has never seen a kickflip before in their life I can understand how cool it must look. So I told him he could ride it if he laid down on the ground. He didn't ask, just did it. I said, "all right dude, stay still, I'm gonna ollie over you". I don't think he even knew what an ollie was, but he didn't care, he just said "okay, go for it". I was suprised that he trusted me... hell I didn't even trust me. But what the hell, I did it anyways and he didn't even flinch. So I let him ride my board and even tried to teach him a few tricks, but I think the wranglers and cowboy boots made it pretty difficult for the kid.
I hated living with my Uncle. I figured the only way I was going to go home was if I got my act together and did it their way, so I tried. I went to church with them every Sunday, brought home report cards with nothing but A's and B's, joined the guy's volleyball team, even got a job at McDonald's and gave my whole paycheck to my Uncle to help cover my living expenses. I still couldn't catch a break. The leash around my neck never loosened a bit, so I decided to take the other route. I said screw it and started drinking and smoking pot again, stealing money at work, even took acid one day at school and later that day at work. I didn't come home one day after school so my Uncle called the cops on me. They were waiting for me when I got home and hauled me off to Juvi. When I got out, I said screw it, nobody here is on my side, and decided the only way I was going to get home was on my own.
I took off one day after school with a couple guys named Kramer and Jer. We were all smoking it up in Kramer's room, and I told them about my plan... actually, there wasn't really a plan, just a goal - to get back home to California. Jer said I could stay in this RV that was parked in the backyard as long as I needed to, which I did for a couple days until the owner came over in the middle of the night, kicked me out, and took it away. Kramer's dad was a cop, so he said I couldn't stay at his place, but to wait at this park and he would meet me there and figure something out. I waited for a couple hours, realized he wasn't coming, and ended up sleeping on the roof of an elementary school. I spent that night wondering how things got this way, and wondered if anyone ever slept on the roof of my elementary school when I was a kid, and cried myself to sleep.
The next day I met up with some friends from school, Ray, Jay, and Preston. We all went to the mall, where I somehow managed to jack about $500 worth of clothes for me and my buddies. Of course after that they wanted to hang out all the time, Ray let me sleep on a couch in his backyard, which I gratefully accepted.
I still had no idea how I was going to get back to California, I was just having fun being young and free. Me and Preston took 12 pills of coricidin and a couple shots of vodka and walked around the mall, high as hell. Jay skated so me and him always hit up this makeshift skatepark called the Wedge. I stole my breakfast, lunch, and dinner from the same 7-11 around the corner, and everything else from a Walgreen's up the street. I went to Target almost every day while my buds were in school, and each time I would walk out with a discman or some other expensive piece of electronic equipment with the intention to sell them off to my friends and buy a bus ticket home. It didn't work out that way, I usually just let them have the stuff.
One particular incident made me begin to wonder about fate and being in the right place at the right time. I was hanging out on the benches next to Target, smoking a cigarette, when this dude came out and asked me to bum one. I handed him one and we started bullshitting. I think I told him my situation, and he was cool, wished me luck, and he went on his way. So I threw my backback over my shoulder and headed into Target, ready to pull off another heist. The way I operated was I would walk into the electronics section, grab two of whatever it is I wanted, walk around for a while until I found an aisle with no cameras, stuff one in my backpack, and take the other one and put it back where I found it. I would then go into a bathroom stall and peel off the sensors, flush them down the toilet, and walk out the door. Well this particular time, I was busy doing my thing in the bathroom, I had just peeled the last sensor off when I heard the bathroom door open and a voice over a walkie talkie saying "alright, he's in the men's restroom". I freaked. I stuffed the shit in my bag, flushed the toilet and opened the door, ready to book it out of there. When I did, I saw the dude that I bummed a smoke to outside, standing there in a Security jacket and a walkie talkie. He looked just as suprised as me. He said "oh, hey... you didn't take anything from here did you?" I managed to utter "no". He said "okay, thats what I thought", and walked me out of the bathroom where there were two big ass security gaurds waiting. He said, "don't worry about it" and let me go. As I approached the door, I just remember hoping more than anything that I had removed all the sensors from the merchandise, and taking a deep sigh of relief as I walked out that door.
I remember that particular halloween we all went around bagsnatching and ran into one of Jay's friends, this older dude name Santino. He was pretty drunk, but he had a truck, so we all piled in the back so he could give us a ride to wherever we were going at the time. We pulled into a shopping center so Santino could show us the posi he just had put on his truck. He started doing burnouts in the parking lot while we were all in the back screaming for more. He popped it in reverse, punched the gas, and slammed right into the back of a parked car. We all got jerked around in the back, but no one was seriously hurt. Santino turned around and yelled "get the fuck out!" so we jumped ship and ran away about as fast as Santino drove.
While living with Ray I got to know a little bit more about him. Like that his father was a convicted felon, for what he wouldn't say. But he told me that when his father was younger he would go to parties and take a bunch of uppers until his heart was about to explode, and then take a bunch of downers until he passed out, and people would bet on whether or not he was going to die. He was a big boy, and just talking to the guy you could tell he wasn't right in the head, like at any given time something could set him off and he would just snap. I was supposed to stay outside while Ray was at school, but sometimes I would get bored and break into the house and play nintendo or something. One day I decided to go into Ray's dad's room, and almost pissed myself when I did. The place was a dump, but there was a big tank with about 4 or 5 pythons in it, and guns and knives scattered all over the room. I picked up one of the guns and I got the bright idea that I was going to pawn it and buy my ticket to Cali... that's about the moment when shit hit the fan.
I was walking down Main Street in Mesa, looking for a pawnshop with a high-point 9mm in my waistband. I was cutting through a parking lot back behind a shopping center when I see a white truck come to a screeching halt in the middle of the street, flip a bitch, and turn into the parking lot. As it got closer I realize it's Santino's truck, so I wave him over, but he's already got that idea in mind. I was wondering what the hell happened to him that night, and as I get ready to greet him, he jumps out of the truck, grabs me, and slams me against the hood. I ask him what the hell's the matter with him and he tells me that someone told him I ratted him out to the cops, because they were waiting for him when he got home. I asked him who told him that, because it was a damn lie. He said it wasn't important and pulled out a rambo-style hunting knife from its holster and told me if I didn't fess up to it he was going to spill my guts right there on the pavement. I freaked out and broke free, grabbed the gun from my waist and pointed it dead at his forehead. I could tell by the look in his eyes that he wasn't expecting that to happen, and neither was I. I told him I didn't rat him out, and whoever said so is a damn liar. He said he believed me and that no one really told him that, he just wanted to scare me into admitting something. I looked down and realized I had been walking backwards the whole time, so when I got far enough away I turned around and cut through some bushes and ran as fast as I could. I didn't look back to see if he was following me, but something told me I wouldn't have to worry about Santino anymore.
A pawnshop gave me $50 for the gun, and I headed back to Ray's, still a little shaken. When I got there, he had already heard that something went down. Apparently word travelled fast in that circle. I was trying to figure out a way to explain how I got the gun, but I decided to just tell him the truth. He was understandably pissed, but he said he wouldn't tell his dad about it, saying he would probably kill me if he found out. I started laughing, but Ray sat there straightfaced with this far off look in his eyes, and I realized he wasn't kidding.
Ray and I were sitting out back when we heard his dad's RV pull up, a vehicle that definately suited the man's size. We sat there apprehensively as I heard the front door open and close, followed by footsteps on the hardwood floor, and finally the bedroom door slamming shut. We again sat in an optimistic silence until we heard Ray's dad call out for his son. We both looked at eachother, then he got up and went into his dad's room. I remember sitting there thinking "there's no way he's going to notice one little gun missing from his room", i mean, they were EVERYWHERE! After about 5 minutes Ray came back out and told me his dad wanted to talk to me. From the look in his eyes I knew that he knew. I was thinking about making a run for it, I had my escape route planned, I would hit the freeway and thumb it all the way back to Cali... but I realized that Ray might take a beating for that one, so I decided to man up and deal with it.
I walked into the room to see Ray's dad lying on his bed, no shirt on, just a big, fat hairy blob of a man. I stood there in the corner of the room wondering what to say, but he cut right to the chase. "Where's my gun?" he asked. I told him "I don't have it, but I can get it back". He motioned for me to come closer, and before I knew it he had grabbed me by the chain I wore around my neck and started choking the shit out of me, screaming in my ear something about killing people for less, I didn't really catch most of it, as my oxygen supply was rapidly diminishing. Then, saved by the grace of cheap taiwanese manufacturing, the chain around my neck broke of in Ray's dad's hand, sending me sprawling backwards. I got up and bolted for the door, the sound of Ray's dad screaming something about cutting my balls off followed me until I reached the park down the street.
I sat there, out of breath, trying to figure out what to do. Ray joined me soon after and I asked him what I should do. He told me, point blank, I better get that gun back, and not to even THINK about running because his dad would hunt me down for the rest of his life and kill me. I knew he didn't mean that metaphorically either. So, the next day I skated down to the pawn shop and pleaded with the guy to sell me the gun back, but he was playing hardball. I said look, I'll even throw in my slightly used santa cruz skateboard, you can get at least another $50 for it. He took the deal and as I handed the cash and board over to him all I could think about was how much I wanted to bash him over the head with it, kick his face in and take the gun. But instead I just smiled and thanked the bastard.
I returned the gun to Ray, but thought it best, for the sake of my balls, to find another place to stay. Jay lived right up the street, and he had a little Dodge Omni hatchback that he let me crash in. I actually considered it an upgrade, seeing as it was November and it got pretty damn cold at nights, even raining occasionally. So me and Jay hung out alot, having fun and getting into the usual trouble. Everything was cool, but then one night I was walking by Ray's house and noticed smoke coming from the vent on the side of the house. I knew ray and his dad were visiting relatives for Thanksgiving, so I ran over to the neighbors and told them to call 911. I didn't stick around for the fire department to get there, fearing the cops might run my name and haul my ass back to Juvi.
A couple days later I was over at Preston's watching him and Jay skate (since I didn't have my board anymore because of the bastard), when all of a sudden a truck pulls up to the house and three or four dudes hop out, including Ray. He walks up to me and pops me in the nose. I turn around and yell "WTF?" He told me his neighbors said I was over at the house and they thought that I set the fire. I told him what happened, that I happened to be walking by and noticed the smoke, and that he should be kissing my ass because if it weren't for me the whole house would have burned to the ground. He told me to get in the truck, that we were gonna go somewhere. I didn't really have much of a choice, so I hopped in the back and we drove off.
As I sat in the back with Ray, I could see him thinking about what I had just told him. I knew he believed me, he just wanted someone to blame. Then he said something about "wanting to believe me" or some b.s. like that, and to make it up to him, we were going to go to the mall and I was gonna jack a bunch of clothes for him and his friends. I thought to myself, this is fucking rediculous. But I said hey, if it'll make you feel better, fine, whatever. So we went to the mall and I pulled the ultimate heist. I walked out of there about 30 pounds heavier, wearing about 6 layers of clothes worth somewhere around $1000 dollars. I met up with them later and after handing over the goods, Ray's mood seemed to change in an instant. Everything was cool again. Amazing. I would have been content never to see that douchebag again.
I don't know what made me do it. Maybe I was tired. Maybe I felt bad. Maybe I just missed my family. It had been two months since I'd spoken to my Uncle, but I decided to call, just to let him know I was alright. I expected hellfire and brimstone, but what I got was soft-spoken compassion. He told me he wanted to talk, to stay where I was, that he would come get me. I agreed. I sat there wondering what if this is a trick? What if he calls the cops and they lock me up? I definately wouldn't put it past him. But I decided to wait. When he pulled up, I climbed in and sat in silence, waiting for him to make the first move. He asked how I was, and that's when I lost it. I broke down, trying to explain everything that had happened, but instead it came out as one giant, bumbling mess of words. He asked me what I wanted, and I told him, truthfully, I just want to go home. So he said "fine", and drove me to the greyhound station, bought me a ticket to San Francisco, and sent me on my way.
For the past seven years, everytime I look back on this experience, I think about the lessons I learned and how it shaped my life to become the person I am today. All the times I sat and wondered to myself, what if things happened differently, would anything in my life be different? Never ONCE did I stop to consider that lives other than my own were affected by my actions. What if I had never taken that gun? What if I didn't give the Target security gaurd a smoke? ...what if I had stuck it out at my Uncle's house, tried to make the best of the situation, and BEEN A BETTER ROLE MODEL FOR MY COUSIN? I guess I'll never really know, but I will ALWAYS be left to wonder.