Cast: Conrad, Labron
Location: Watts
Time: October 10, 2016
Synopsis: Some ganger's break into Conrad's apartment while he sleeps.
Watts - Watts
Bound by 108th Street, Century Boulevard, and 107th Street to the north; Wilmington and Croesus Avenue on the east; Imperial Highway on the south and Compton Avenue on the west, Watts is predominantly an African American neighborhood, followed closely by Hispanics. Though still nearly as gang-ridden and dangerous as the streets of Compton nearby, Watts is considered to be safer and more beautiful—this is predominantly because of the Watts Towers and the cultural art center that has blossomed around the seventeen steel structures. There are many large family homes in Watts, as well as clustered apartment buildings. Graffiti covers almost every wall and fence. Nevertheless, compared to the surrounding areas, Watts is something of a haven from both crime and Los Angeles gaudiness.
Its 12 noon in Watts, a hot and hazy day in LA, and guess who's in school right now? Not Labron and Kobey. No, these two young black teens are eyeing up Conrad's house. "You see tha add in the paper man? Anybody thas got all these fancy camera gizmos has gat to be hidin somethin worth a bundle yah know what Im sayin?" Labron grins slightly as the two of them hop the fence and go into backyard, donning ski-masks. They quickly search for a way into the house.
Labron manages to wiggle his way through a small window and gain entry into the garage. But Kobey was too fat to fit through! "Just go man, keep a look out, outside." Labron steps into the house floorboards creaking under each step as he moves around the house slowly
The garage is clean, almost sterile. The walls are lined with bookshelves, tomes of Egyptian history, the civil rights movement, and cultural art watch over a clean 1964 Lincoln Continental, the black paint sheen from a recent waxing.
"Man what the hell is all this shit?" Labron mutters as he looks through the book shelves quickly then opens the garage door and walks into the house proper. "Man this guy's gotta have a stash somewhere all this dough he rollin in."
The house is similarly clean, the previous day's newspaper folded over the arm of the green recliner, a small pile of books and blues CDs on the floor nearby.
Labron looks over the Cds, nothing he likes! Then he starts looking under the couch pillows and cabinets looking for anything of value. If/when he doesn't find anything he'll start making his way toward the bedrooms.
Conrad slumbers blissfully unaware of the intruder.
The area beneath the loveseat's pillows reveals a treasure trove of pennies, nickels, dimes, and quarters. A man could afford to supersize his meal with scratch like this. The bedroom smells faintly of mothballs, the circa 1960 duvet covered in a thin layer of dust. The closets are full of men's clothing, and a leatherette briefcase is found to be full of student papers concerning Marcus Garvey's impact on the world political climate.
Labron shrugs a bit as he grabs a couple handfuls of change from underneath the pillows then starts going through the closet, looks under the bed. "Comon, gotta be leas a dime bag up in here." Labron continues to look around the house, but unless he can find a sleeping conrad, he's probably going to head out.
Conrad is as blissfully unaware of the intruder as the latter is of him. He sleeps in a spot concealed from plain view.
Labron grabs as much change as he can from the couch stuffing it into over sized pockets. "This jigga's house is wak man." He mutters, and then he quickly heads for the garage and squeezes out the window…not before taking a single book though. A book on Malcolm X. Labron hits the street and runs hard as his friend Kobey joins him. They hop some fences, and round the block.
The sun is relentless, bearing down on the hard asphalt and concrete pavement. The mortals sweat and toil while the undead slumber restlessly, eagerly awaiting for the arrival of nightfall once more.
