"Chalker, Jack L - G.O.D. Inc 2 - The Shadow Dancers" - читать интересную книгу автора (Chalker Jack L)

knew it. Crazy thing was, too, I didn't really feel safe over there anymore.
See, that was the reason for all the trouble I got in, and maybe the reason a
lot of black kids get screwed for life. I mean, there you are, a kid in a
neighborhood where there's so many poor folk a lot ain't got nothin' to lose and
a lot more just give up. Crime's real big and deep rooted there, simply 'cause
it's the only real source of jobs and steady income. Most folks there don't
wanta kill you, they just don't think two steps ahead. If you're wearin' a
jacket and one wants it, he'll just go up and off you and take it. The only way
a kid's got any real chance if they don't wanta be like that themselves is to
join a gang. I guess it's always been that way. I seen West Side Story twelve
times. The boys in the gang, they give you protection 'cause it's the code, and
the girls, well, they give the boys whatever they want. Most times, you're as
safe as you can be, but you grow up feelin' dependent on folks and with no real
confidence in yourself, even though you wind up actin' tough and talkin' tough
so nobody knows how scared you are, and the boys grow up thinkin' of girls as
dependent, weak, things and not people.
The leaders of them gangs ain't got much smarts; they're all muscle and nerve,
so they don't like anybody to be smarter than they are. You gotta talk gutter
talk, like what they like, do what they say. That way you wind up with your
first kid at fifteen or so and a life on welfare.
That's why when Daddy took me outta the gangs he also took most of my
protection, my security. By the time he took me out, I was set, you know. A part
of me will always be that little girl, and I'll always talk and act like I had
to all them years.
Over there now, though, I was nothin' but a target. Nailin' Daddy's killers got
me some respect but it didn't do nothin' for my nerve deep down. When I was with
Daddy, or Sam, or the cops, it was somethin' else, but all alone I'm just a
scared little ghetto girl.
I never was much for church goin', neither, so I didn't really have that to fall
back on. Most of 'em I knew were either preachers on the make for some kind of
political office or cause or decidin' on how the blacks got to hold a revolution
or make some new country somewheres, while the rest just sat there and sang and
prayed and said we might be down now but wait till we die and then we'd be in
the Promised Land. Well, I never seen where that country was gonna be, and they
wouldn't let Sam in, anyways, and I just ain't so sure about no Promised Land,
or at least if they'd let me in when I got to the gates. Lookin' at the folks
who were sure it was there and sure they'd get there, I ain't so sure a place
filled with them types is where I want to be trapped for eternity, neither.
Daddy never did have much belief in God, even on the battlefields, but he
belonged to a church 'cause it brought in some business. Maybe that's why men
got more power in business than women-they make better hypocrites.
So, I was cut off from my old neighborhood and people, and my relatives weren't
no damned good to me when I needed 'em and I didn't see why I should be so
damned good to them, now, and I didn't feel comfortable anywhere in the business
society of most all our clients-Sam didn't like 'em none, but he could pretend
he did for the money and jobs-and 'cause I was rough and foul-mouthed and talked
like a poor ignorant nigger I wasn't invited to no parties or social occasions.
Not that I wanted to go back where I was. Uh uh. I ate real good, the sheets
were satin, and I had a jacket in the closet there that was genuine mink, and
folks who woulda laughed in my face a while back now kept tryin' to get me to