The Reprobate opened the front door to the tenement apartment and then started to walk up the stairs. After about six steps there was a second door that was supposed to be locked. It wasn’t. The Reprobate opened that door and then continued to climb the stairs.
Because of all the nonsense with Bo, the Reprobate felt a throbbing at the temples, as if pressure was building up in his head. He was tired. He hadn’t gotten much sleep. Hiding out at a friend’s place in North Hudson, the Reprobate had spent the night stretched out on the floor.
Hearing people inside the apartment, the Reprobate didn’t bother to knock. When he walked inside, everyone became quiet and looked at him, except for Bo who just kept talking to his friend Chops. Bo’s head was wrapped in bandages.
The Reprobate: “Bo, Ya got the money?”
Bo: “I ain’t gonna be able to pay ya’ now t’ who knows when, wit’da hospital bills an’ all dat.”
The Reprobate: “Ya shoulda tought about dat before tryin’ t’ pull a gun on me. Hospital bills don’ let’cha offa the hook. Dat’s yer penalty fer bein’ stupid.”
Chops: “What’cha takin’ dat from him for?”
Bo: “He’s always carryin’.”
Chops: “What’s he gonna do wit a gun wit’all da people here an’ all?”
Chops reached over grabbing the Reprobate by the jacket. The Reprobate put his hand in his pocket and then took out a 32 caliber pistol. He raised his arm, placing the pistol alongside Chops’s head, The barrel was against his ear pointing towards the ceiling, out of view. Chops’s face contorted with horror, his eyes fixed on the what he could see of the gun. The Reprobate pulled the trigger. Even though the bullet flew harmlessly into the ceiling, the loud sound of the shot rang out directly into Chops’s ear; he collapsed.
The Reprobate now pointed the gun down to the floor. He turned around and began to walk towards the door of the apartment. Someone grabbed The Reprobate by the shoulder from behind. It was Dacey. Just as with Chops, the Reprobate quickly raised the gun against the side of Dacey’s head. When the gun fired, Dacey fell backwards. Women screamed. The Reprobate exited the apartment, heading for the stairs.
As he walked down Hutton Street, The Reprobate heard police sirens screaming from every direction. Setting up roadblocks, the police closed off every street in the area. The Reprobate lifted up the hood of his parka coat and just kept walking slowly down the block, like someone whose only worry was the cold Winter night air. The police seemed not to notice the pedestrian. The Reprobate went home.
