Saturday, May 4, 2013

"You Don't Want to Come In Here" With A Gun Between The Eyes

So me and John are sitting at 125 st and 12th Ave eating some pizza when the radio cackles:
"18 Boy" calls the dispatcher
"18 boy central" my partner answers back
"Pick up the unknown condition 129 Street and 5 Avenue"
"10-4 central, were on the way"
There is nothing we hated more than the job type "unknown condition". It means someone picked up a phone, requested and ambulance and hung up. It could be anything. Furthermore since an "unknown condition" is a low priority call it meant the cops wouldn't be responding with us.
We pull up to a dilapidated  3 story brownstone building on 129 street between 5th  and Madison avenues. We get out our equipment including trauma bag, oxygen and folding wheelchair. We walk through the front door and up to the second floor over creaking, debris strewn stairs. It's midday but because there is only one grimy hall way window that faced the opposite side of where the sun was shinning and no hallway lights it may as well been early evening.
We finally make our way up to the second floor and begin to search for the apartment our supposed patient is in. So damned quiet in there it made my ears ring. We finally find our apartment at the end of the hallway. the door is about one-third ajar. the apartment silent. "EMS, anyone call for an ambulance" I call out. No answer. I move closer to the door, peer through the opening and am about to call in when I see a man inside the apartment about fifteen feet from me. "EMS, this is EMS" I shout. I put my hand on the door and push it open to about halfway. Immediately the door is pushed back at me. Seems someone is behind the door. I push back and the door pushes back towards me. " You don't wanna come in here" scowls a deep voice from behind the door. I answer "but Sir the person on the floor looks like he needs help". "I said you don't wanna come in here" is the response.
Now i don't know why i did what I did next. Maybe I was aggravated by having the door shoved in my face twice, I was concentrating on the patient who looked, if not dead then very seriously injured, but I then shoved the door as hard as I could and began to step into the apartment. "I told you you didn't wanna fucking come in here" screams the guy on the other side as he now steps out from behind the door. My testicles turn to ice cubes. He's about 30 years old, black as night about 6 foot and well over 200 pounds. He's sweating profusely and in his right hand is the biggest, ugliest gun I have ever seen. Up it comes right between my eyes. "how many fucking time you got to be told motherfucker, DON'T COME IN HERE". I don't move a muscle. I can feel my heart pounding in my chest but I'm not sure if I'm breathing. "alright Sir, sorry. I'm going to step out now". "GET THE FUCK OUT" is my answer. So I slowly  put down my equipment looking straight past the gun and at him. "We're leaving". all I could think about was a saying I heard once, 'you'll never hear the click". I back out of the doorway which puts me out of sight of my new found friend and his semi-automatic friend.I made it down to the street, along with my partner in such a hurry i don't remember the trip down.
"18 Boy, emergency transmission"
"All units stand by', responds the dispatcher, "18 boy what's up'
"Central man with a gun, possible DOA in the apartment"
"18 Boy are you in the apartment?'
"Negative central, we've left the apartment. We're safe down in the street"
"Stay the Boy, I'm getting PD there forthwith"
The radio really comes to life,
"18 Young put us on their back'
"17 Charlie we're going"
"16 Charlie we're two blocks away'
"Who ever is going , go. Just keep the radio clear for Boy"
Withing just a couple of minutes the street is jammed with ambulances, police cars. Supervisors from the entire borough show up.
Lt. Martin comes up to me 'you OK!"
"We're OK, Liu, just a little shaken'
'Alright, go back to the end of the street. Have a cigarette and chill out"
"Yes, Sir'
It took about two hours for the police to enter the apartment and place my gun-totting friend into custody. that's when we got the story. the dead man on the floor was my adversary's brother. they were both involved in stealing tokens from the subway. they would put something in the token slot. when a person placed a token into the subway turnstile it would get caught by the surface. Than he our his brother would suck it out.they would then resell them at a discount to other subway riders.According to the cops the brothers had a disagreement regarding how the money was being divvied up. One word led to another, a gun was pulled, a brother shot. Never again did i go pushing on an open door, at least without knocking first.
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