On the Run: Fugitive Life in an American City by Alice Goffman Page B

drinking while driving, revoking his bail. Steve sat in county jail as the
     court dates dragged on.
    To our great surprise, Steve came home on house arrest three months later, still in
     the middle of his trial dates. He explained that the court released him for the remainder
     of the proceedings because the jails were overflowing, and the judge determined that
     he didn’t pose a flight risk.
    In confidence, Mike admitted to me that he did not believe Steve, since he’d never
     heard of a person coming home on house arrest during a trial for a gun case. He suspected
     that Steve had likely cut a deal to be at home during the lengthy court proceedings,
     most likely by giving up somebody the police seemed more interested in.
    A week later, a local man on trial for murder phoned Reggie and told him that his
     lawyer had shown him Steve’s statement. Apparently, Steve had signed an affidavit
     that he had been present at the time of the murder. A younger friend of Reggie’s was
     at his house when he got the phone call, and soon began spreading the news that Steve
     was a snitch.
    Faced with the public and personal disgrace of his betrayal, Steve spent three days
     threatening violence against Reggie’s young boy, and then he told him to come to his
     house so they could discuss it. As the young man entered, Steve began yelling, “Who
     the fuck told you I was a rat, nigga? Who?”
    “You just going to sit here and act like you ain’t say shit,” the young man said coolly.
     “They got your statement on file.”
    Steve said he would kill him, and the young man made a move toward Steve. Mike attempted
     to pull the two apart, but Steve pulled his gun and pistol-whipped the young man in
     the face and then in the back of his head.
    “You been home less than a week!” Chuck admonished, as the young man covered his bloody
     face with his hands. “You can’t pistol-whip a nigga that calls you a snitch. Plus,
     that makes you look like you really did do that shit.”
    “You ain’t mature in jail at all,” Mike added.
    Mike asked the young man if he could go to the hospital, and he replied that he had
     a couple of open cases, but no warrants. We took him to the ER for stitches. Mike,
     who had a bench warrant for failure to appear in court, hovered in the parking lot,
     checking in every half hour or so via cell phone.
    To my knowledge, this young man never again mentioned that Steve had snitched. A few
     days later there was another shootout, and the whole affair took a backseat in the
     local gossip.
    Most of the time, young men don’t resort to violence to rebuild their reputations
     after they snitch. Instead, they attempt to regain the trust and goodwill of the person
     they wronged.
    When he was sixteen, Ronny and a few other young men from 6th Street drove to Montgomery
     County late one night and tried unsuccessfully to break into a motorcycle store. When
     they couldn’t get in, they returned to their ’89 Bonneville, only to find that the
     car wouldn’t start. Ronny called Mike to come get them.
    When Mike got the call, he and Chuck and I were watching movies in the apartment.
     It was around 2:00 a.m. I heard Mike on the phone to Ronny as follows: “Where the
     fuck is that at? Okay. Gimme like, a hour [to get out there].”
    Mike turned to me.
    MIKE: This lil’ nigga out in the middle of nowhere. Car ain’t starting. We still got
     them cables [jumper cables]?
    ALICE: No. Who is he with?
    MIKE: The boy Dre, couple other niggas.
    ALICE: Why is he out there?
    MIKE: I don’t fucking know—probably because he trying to steal something. I’ma beat
     his lil’ ass to the ground when I see that nigga. Now I got to get up. [
shakes his head as he puts on his boots
] Fuck it. I’ma just wear my long johns.
    ALICE: I’ll see you later.
    Mike cursed the boys but went out anyway to retrieve them, saying that he couldn’t
     refuse his young boy anything. Chuck and I waited until around four. Mike