Tales of The Wire: 2. Bodie

The old shopping trolley with the dodgy wheel rumbled out from the alley. Its owner, Bubbles, was trying to sell white T-shirts to the drug dealers on a west side corner. “Little” Kevin was a bit disappointed that there weren’t any in his size. The man-child in charge of this area was Preston “Bodie” Broadus and he chased off the old vagrant.

“Beat it, man. And don’t stick no hats on ‘anyone’s head ‘cos we don’t want no bugs.”

Bodie was having a bad day. He was born to be a corner boy and for years he’d worked these corners. But times were tough. He’d never had a day off, never snitched on anyone or robbed from a package and all he could see around him was an ineffectual team of poor ass muthas. They were worse than pawns.

“Little” Kevin pulled another cheeseburger from his pocket and was covered in ketchup making Bodie screw his eyes up in disgust. Oh, wherefore art thou Wallace. His number one runner, Namond, the boy responsible for where the stash is kept, could be seen from ten blocks away as his Afro hair wagged in the wind. If I had a pair of scissors, thought Bodie, I wouldn’t just cut his hair. And then things got worse.

“Fire in the hole! I mean, fire in the wire! No, I mean, fire in the alley.”

One of Bodie’s lieutenants came rushing out from the alley into the street.

“It must have been that old junkie. He’s dropped a smoke in the bin and it’s on fire.”

Bodie knew this would bring the Fire Department to his turf and then the Baltimore Police. He could do without this heat. Shaking his head he walked into the alley followed by his less than trusty crew.

“Ah’yt.” said Bodie.
“As I do everything on this corner I best fight the fire.”

With a minimum degree of effort Bodie expelled a large litre of saliva from out of the side of his face; the famous Bodie spit. It put the fire out.

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2 Comments on “Tales of The Wire: 2. Bodie”

  1. JM Says:

    Why does it always come as a surprise to me to learn what these off-duty probation officers get up to, JW? Do we pay them enough? Do we provide the necessary excitement in the job?

  2. theroyalist Says:

    Off-duty traffic wardens are worse, Jamie. Off-duty means on call.
    The other day I saw an undertaker’s funeral coach parked on double yellow lines. The off-duty officious warden swore at the driver of the vehicle.
    “Oi! Move your Hearse.”

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