On My Block
All that I found out about my local drug dealers.
Illustration by Audrey Weber
Here is what I know about the drug dealers on my block:
I know that they use three cars — a black Dodge, a black Nissan Elantra and a green Ford Explorer. I know the license plate numbers of all three of these cars. The two men who drive the cars are Puerto Rican. They grew up in the neighborhood, in the Gowanus Houses, and have known Alan, the custodian who lives across from us, since they were kids. The main one — we'll call him The Boss — has a three-year-old daughter. He often stashes the drugs that he is going to distribute to his underlings under her car seat. Sometimes, The Boss has her run money and other things from his car to his partner’s. She skips down the block, playing a game her father has invented for her. Several times, he has pretended that his car is having some sort of mysterious trouble, trouble that requires him and his identically-clad lieutenants to gather around it all day, putting things in their pockets before walking off.
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