Black Cousin's Mafia

Chapter 1

“What’s up, Cousin?” He couldn’t recognize the voice over the noise of the street, and the cold weather. Looking up at the empty intersection, cars started through the lights into the city. From where he stood, the towering statue of the downtown city buildings made it seemed like he was downtown already.

“I can’t really hear you? What did you want?”

“Come on, Cousin. I just talked to you on the phone. We don’t really have the time. If you’re not ready when I get there, and we’re late, then it’s not going to work. And then the people might not be there. And then we have to be at school before the people leave.”

“Listen,” Cousin cut through the conversation, still unclear about the voice. “I’m kind of uncomfortable with how school is going; the people, the teachers, the people around the school. The whole thing is just uncomfortable.”

There was something sort of a pause, followed by the rasp of a voice, “Sometimes you just have to figure it out, and make it work.”

The rain was cold, and wet as the wind blew over the cold of where he was. Waking from the voice in the dream, Cousin rolled over on cardboard that had torn apart.

The entire of the cardboard floor was wet as the rain came down harder on its surface, covering Cousin from head to foot. At first there was just the cold, and now it was the cold rain in the cold.

He thought to shiver. Too tired to move, Cousin crawled from up under the cardboard. The wet of the thick paper as something discarded, he looked in disgust. Wet cardboard served no purpose, and having a chance to dry, would only be good for something to sit on.

Standing up in the dark of the alley, the rain began to slow in splatter, looking up into the height of the buildings that sat on both sides. Surrounded by concrete, bricks, and a shadowed darkness, Cousin rubbed the rain into his face. His hands were dirty, his clothes were dirty. His shoes were worn, and torn. His face felt ragged under hair that grazed his appearance. His entire body itched, ached terrible, looking up the darker part of the alley that led the back of the apartment buildings to the hamburger restaurant.

Moving from the cardboard bed onto the alley street, everything about him moved slow. He was sore, his legs felt swollen. An empty old can of apple sauce fell from his inside coat pocket, falling to the ground. The wind picked up again in the cold, the cardboard blowing apart wet. Cousin watched as the top of the cardboard bedding blew down the alley street.

He had wanted to stay dry in the cold, and hadn’t meant to fall asleep in the middle of the evening with night approaching. And he hadn’t found somewhere to take a shower. Something that had hot water, and wouldn’t complain that he wasn’t a customer.

From behind, underneath the stack of cardboard, moving the metal panel, Cousin grabbed the buttoned shirts that tangled in, and out of each other. He let out a smile that they were still dry, taking off the heavy coat that pulled around the bottom of the waist. The thick button shirt that he had on dripped cold water, pulling it from around his shoulders, twisting the sleeves free from water.

The smooth of his skin had hardened from being outside for so long, the cold rain causing him to suddenly shake of chills. Sitting down on the alley street, he put on two dry, button shirts, putting on top the wet shirt. He could feel the warm of his clothes, putting on his coat. Grabbing his hat from inside the coat lining, he pulled the stitched device around his head, pulling the coat hood over top. The rain continued.

It always confused him how in the dark of the night, the dark would give light to see. Looking around at the darkness of the alley, the way the buildings went up into the lower parts of the sky, he was alone. A large trash can sat a ways distance, across from where he sat. Further down the alley, was the large trash can from across the apartment buildings. Puddles of rain water began to form in the center of the alley street, coming up to a where he sat.

There was the tangled fence across, and against the shorter of the bricked buildings. There was the noise of people that lived in a small apartment in the abandoned building in the front of the alley. The apartment window in the alley where he slept. The puddled water began to soaked the matted cardboard, the cardboard floating toward the center of the alley.

There was the small metal trash can that belonged to the restaurant that was toward the front of the sidewalk from the alley entrance, facing the main street. From the back end of the alley across its entrance, cars could be seen going back, and forth. On the back main street, the rise of two apartment buildings positioned each side of the alley; the collection of windows numerous in up, and down patterns. Window lights cutting on, window lights cutting off.

Cousin looked at his hands. He no longer saw that they would be dirty, but that his hands were just dirt, the cold rain water unable to clean them. His whole body began to itch through hair, and dry clothes underneath rain, and heavy coat. The coat still warmed as he had been blessed to find it in a clutter of clothes someone had thrown away.

Toward the side of the alley, against some buildings midway through to the alley back entrance, torn mattresses fell onto the alley street. He had forgotten to move the mattresses, wanting to keep them from being thrown away by the trash people. He had not known it was going to rain, the dark cover of clouds surrounded in all directions. He thought the wet mattresses would be no good if it continued to rain, and no heat coming. If they began to smell, the trash people might throw them away.

From the front corner of the apartment buildings, from the alley, someone could be seen walking from a dark hiding space, walking down the back end of the alley onto the sidewalk of the city, walking in the direction of downtown. Cousin looked just beyond where he was to the front of the alley, the sidewalk, and the cars that drove back, and forth.

He could smell the stench of smoke, gasoline, and car exhaust through the rain water, thick in his chest. He breathed the cold rain, and air in. The cardboard on top the alley street had floated further down the center of the alley toward the fell bed mattresses. Cousin looked at the building he sat across from. It had been a warehouse that someone owned, but no longer had a use for. And now it was abandoned, and empty only for the apartment. Both buildings to the entrance of the street, and sidewalk where Cousin slept, were empty.

Digging into his coat pocket, he pulled out a small piece of candy. Looking at the flavor, the words on the plastic were difficult to read. He wondered what flavor it was, someone having giving it to him, grateful for the generosity. Looking at the strange color of hard sugar, circle in shape, he put the candy in his mouth. The flavor was sweet like sour apple, and cherry. Biting down, Cousin pulled on the sweet taste of sour apple. It was one of those two flavored candies. There was the taste of one flavor, and then you would taste a second flavor after the first flavor was gone.

The car turned the corner of the back of the alley from the main street, parking against the side of the apartment building. From down the alley where Cousin sat, the bright head lights of the car looked small, and only just a part of the car. The lights cut off as whoever was in the car remained inside. From one of the apartment windows above the car, a man’s head could be seen out the window, motioning something to the person in the car.

Cousin closed his eyes to the warmth of the coat. There was the smell of the stain of filth, and dirt across the front. He needed to take a bath, but couldn’t figure where he would go. The last of the places where he had tried to use the bathroom, he was harassed, and cursed so horrible that it was impossible to believe they would help him. He would probably have to save up some money to purchase something, to use the bathroom as a customer.

He had hated to keep asking the attendants at the gas station around the corner. It wasn’t their fault, his situation. And them helping him, for them to be fired because of him. He would see trouble like that sometimes. In spite of his situation, it was his fault. And there were really no places that he could go to that would let him take a shower besides the shelter downtown. And the shelter was always crowded. You couldn’t take nothing with you, but the clothes you had on. And the people that ran the shelter were always unfriendly, never a kind word.

Cousin thought about going to the church. Most of the churches were across town, and the walk would be strenuous on his mind, seeing new people that he didn’t know, and the unfamiliarity of places that he wasn’t sure about. The big church downtown didn’t have a place where he could take a bath, but they gave clothes, and food. They also asked a lot of questions about how he was doing, and did he need help. It was a church, and his situation was desperate, but he still thought them to be strangers. He kind of figured that he would be where he was, in the alley, until he would no longer be in the alley.

Looking at the bed mattresses again, he figured he had a couple more days before the trash people would come to empty trash cans.

The parked car down the alley cut the head lights on, cutting them off again. Cousin could begin to feel himself get cold as the rain slowed to a stop. The dark of the night through the city lights, in the dark of the alley of a city of millions people. Cousin turned back to the stare of the car head lights parked in the back of the alley entrance. The car lights cut off again, cutting back on.

He slid back in his sit against the brick of the building that led to the front of the alley, and the sidewalk. Pulling down the hat tighter that covered his head, pulling the hood from the bottom, he looked back down the alley to the lights of the car, and whoever was in the car. He wanted the car to go away. Of all the places to park, why would they park there? And it was a no parking space. If the police came by, they would probably give them a ticket or tow the car.

But the car didn’t move, and the car lights didn’t cut off. Cousin grabbed a second piece of candy from his pocket, moving his legs a little, backing up further into the stand of the bricked building. He thought whether the person in the car could see him or not.

As he continued in his stare, he could feel the headache in his mind begin to grow, growing more intense through the cold air, and the warm clothes. He breathed out to the discomfort of his thoughts. In the freedom of the alley, he could feel his neck tense tight around the top of his shoulders. Cousin moved his head slightly, not wanting to be seen by whoever was in the car. Both main streets at the ends of the alley seemed to close in on where he sat.

It was no longer something secluded in a big city, but was the wasting away of where he was. He was living in a alley with both streets to no civility, surrounded by people living in apartments who paid to stay where they were. Real money. Not living in an abandoned building, or sleeping outside in the rain. They were people that drove by the alley every day, regardless of the time. They were not sitting idle as everything around them moved.

Cousin put the candy in his mouth, moving his hands slowly into his coat pockets. He felt the wrinkled clutter of paper, and writing pens, and the materials of nothingness across his fingers, distinguishing each shape with his hands. He thought each shape, looking at the lights of the parked car in the back of the alley. The car lights cut off again as someone began to yell out the window, finally sticking their head out the window to the person in the car. The person in the car got out, walking around the corner of the building, onto the sidewalk.

Cousin stood up, walking to the puddle of water that had come up, and around where he was sleeping. Looking at the bedded area in disgust, his cardboard was torn, and ruin. And he had not closed both large trash cans before the rain, everything that he had put in them, that he needed, would be wet. He had not known it was going to rain, walking to where the wet bed mattresses had fell. Looking at the small building corner that hid away a little standing space, Cousin moved the clutter of glass bottles from the dark area, pushing it across into the open of the alley street. One of the bottles broke in bounce, breaking in pieces. Grabbing the crate that the bottles had come in, he sat down to the back of the corner of the building, a building that connected to the back of the apartment building that faced away from the downtown skyline. Rubbing his hands over the bed mattresses that laid on top, the rain water had soaked through the cushions to the other side of each mattress.

There were four mattresses, total. Cousin figured with so many, and with the size of each one, people would complain they were in the way of the alley street. He could move two of the mattresses to further down the alley by the second large trash can, and just keep one to sleep on. That way he would probably have no problem, and be able to keep one at the same time. The silence of the alley, Cousin gave effort that was strenuous, turning the mattress over as the tear of the bed cloth that covered showed across the entire side.

Dropping the mattress to the alley street, he sat back on the crate in the building shadows, the sound of voices entering from down the alley where the car was parked. The car door shut. Cousin stood to his feet, backing up to the stand of the building. From the alley side, you didn’t know what building having no windows from the ground to about the fourth or fifth floor. And unless you lived in the apartment buildings at the back of the alley entrance, the building had no alley street entrance.

Both men got into the car. Their language, english mixed with whatever country they were from.

“You have to understand, this is america. You cannot park wherever you want. I helped you get this car, with very little money. Me, and you are surviving. If the police would have had the car towed, then what? How much is that going to cost?”

The driver sucked on his teeth. “You worry too much. I just walked into the building to see what you were talking about. You worry too much,” starting the car.

“Why is the seat wet?” looking at the small opening of the passenger window.

The driver smiled.

“My pants are going to be wet, and she might see them.”

Pressing down on the gas pedal, the driver pulled down the alley toward the front entrance, where Cousin had been sleeping.

“Slow down, I think its people that stay out here.”

“In the alley?”

“Yeah,” the driver easing his foot from the gas pedal, the car slowing in speed towards the main street entrance.

Cousin heard the car start up, backing up some more into the bricked building, straining against the push of the brick wall. He looked quickly at the approaching car through the darkness, the car cutting on its headlights. The headlights shined the entire of where he stood; the rain water, the dirty mattresses, the filth of his coat, and pants, the ragged of hair on his face. The clutter of trash everywhere.

The car drove past Cousin in his stand, to the front of the alley, stopping at the sidewalk that crossed the alley entrance. Someone walked past the car on the sidewalk.

Holding in its stopped position, the passenger tapped the driver on the arm, “Turn this way,” pointing up the street, away from the downtown buildings. The small car turned onto the main street under the cover of city buildings.

Cousin breathed out. The car was gone, but he was there, and he was going to be there. The rain having completely stopped, he could feel the night air grow colder. Walking back around pass the bed mattresses, he walked into the middle of the alley, standing in a water puddle.

He looked to where the car had been parked, looking at the dark of the apartment windows from both buildings that centered the alley. He walked down the alley toward the back entrance, toward the back main street. As he walked, he stayed close to the bottom sides of the towering buildings, in the shadows. Walking pass the second large trash can that sat crooked, pulling closer into the middle of the alley, Cousin walked into the height of the towering apartment buildings, the sounds of noise coming from the windows. The yelling, and screaming of children. The yelling, and screaming of older people. He could hear people arguing over the noise of music, loud music blaring from both buildings.

Cousin slowed his in his walk as the scatter of lights from the apartments began to create a haze of confusion amongst the darkness of where he was. Stopping, looking at the street that crossed both buildings, he looked around.

As the splatter of trash hit the concrete of the alley, he jumped toward the shadows, startled. Looking up into the stare of a woman from a window with the lights off, she hadn’t seen him at first. Now looking at the large man that stood in the dark of the alley, the woman continued in her stare.

“So,” she finally said, slamming her window, more upset that her life seemed miserable than someone seeing her throw trash out the window.

Cousin waited for a second, backing up to the second large trash can to make sure the woman didn’t come back, and throw something at him, staring up at the apartment building. Concluding that she was not coming back, he continued in his walk, walking up to the beginnings of the sidewalk.

Dropping the candy paper in the alley, he began to look down, and around at the alley street, at where the car had been parked. Everything was wet. He saw ends of wet cigarettes. There was the plastic from the dark cigars. He saw a couple of wet empty books of matches. There was the clutter of soda bottles, and soda cans. The stain of what looked like spilled oil. Walking to the corner of the apartment building facing the sidewalk, the sign said 'no parking'. Across the street, the hamburger restaurant was still open. Further down the street, Cousin could see the closed gas station, and the empty of new store fronts. The downtown city skyline stood across the apartment building, past the traffic lights at a distance.

A crowd of cars drove down the main street toward the fried chicken restaurant, stopping at the traffic light. Walking out of the hamburger store, the man, and woman just didn’t look right, that they didn’t look human. And their hair sat unkept, but the clothes they wore looked store brought brand new. They were slim in how they walked, but their shape looked confused. They were black, but pale, the color of their skin fading. Looking across the street at Cousin, they began to talk.

Cousin continued to look, the noise of the conversation becoming too painful to listen to with the noise from the apartment windows above where he stood. In the disgust of the alley, he knew that they were talking about him. The way they looked at him to talk about nothing to make him into nothing. The traffic light changed colors as the small crowd of cars passed, and turned the corner of the main street. They didn’t like him, he thought. That he lived in the alley or that he was out in the cold, or that he couldn’t eat where they ate, as the conversation about the large man that stood in the alley across the street continued.

The man, and woman walked pass the bus stop that was further up to the sidewalk corner. Looking back at Cousin, the woman whispered something to the man as both turned the corner of the sidewalk, walking out into the darkness. Cousin continued to stare at the corner pass the fried chicken restaurant. He could feel the people in the apartment buildings watching him from their windows. They had seen him staring at the people across the street. That he knew something was wrong with them, that they weren’t really happy how they lived.

Cousin moved slow back up the side of the apartment building, looking up across at the windows. The first couple of floors of windows were dark. It was only towards the upper part of the apartment buildings were the lights on. He could see someone behind a window curtain where the lights were off, the curtains moving in motion.

Looking back around where he was, Cousin looked at the stain of oil, and water on the alley street. Where the car had been parked, it was nothing, walking over the candy plastic he had dropped.

From the back entrance of the alley to the front entrance, the distance looked far away, familiarity drowning the strength in what he was thinking. Cousin used the apartment building behind him to stand up, counting his steps, walking away from the building into the middle of the alley street.

The alley had grown dark again, the large man blowing out his anxiety. He began to feel relaxed, walking up the pile of thrown away bed mattresses. Smiling, he realized that now that it had rained, the sun would be out when the night went away, and that the mattresses would dry, no longer sleeping on the alley street.

Grabbing a mattress by its side, Cousin pulled from the top of the stack across the alley street up the side of the building. Toward the front where he slept, puddles of rain water collected, his bedded cardboard camouflougeed with the trash of where he was. He would just leave the mattress across from where he slept, toward the sidewalk, until the water went away.

Dropping the sides of the mattress to the alley street, Cousin sat down on the wet cushion. The window that sat in the alley from the apartment in the abandoned building positioned to his side, the water from the bed mattress soaking through his layers of pants. He could feel the cold become colder. To stay focus on where he was, and what he was going to do. The late of the night was coming, and to see the sun rise to go to sleep tired, was his motivation.

Stretching his legs across the wet soak of the cushion, Cousin stood up, pulling the mattress against the abandoned building next to the apartment window. The light was off, and the small family that lived there was probably sleep. He would see them, but had not been trying to get to know them, they being so close to where he stayed, how he stayed.

The older man from the apartment looked like he wanted to say something, help him in some way, but had decided against it. And Cousin thought, 'help him with what?' Money, food, clothes, shelter. Everything that the older man needed, he was going to give to him.

Sometimes throughout the day, it seemed that Cousin had more than they had, and he never had nothing, only the obscurity of the alley. He had long ago forgotten to be a friend.

Cousin pushed the mattress further against the wall, walking back through the middle of the alley street to where he had been sleeping. Sitting down against the building, stretching his legs out, he began to think of the cold that was coming.

The older model car turned from the main street where Cousin sat, riding pass the large man that sat in the alley, down to the first large trash can. Stopping the car, the driver threw something in the large trash can, pulling back out again into the alley, onto the back main street toward the direction of the downtown buildings. Cousin closed his eyes. The car was four door. He couldn’t really see the inside. Maybe two people inside. No one was in the back. The car was used, old, dark in color.

He opened his eyes, taking off his coat, there was the covering layers of shirts. Pulling the folded stacks of cardboard that sat behind a metal panel against the brick building, Cousin laid a small piece of cardboard on the gound. His coat fell clumsy on top the cardboard. Taking off the shirt that was wet, he folded it behind the metal panel between layers of cardboard. He had got hot in the moving of the bed mattress, in the cold air, and began to sweat from his forehead.

In thought, he had finally decided to walk towards downtown later in the night, around the park way. He needed to use a bathroom to clean what little dirt he could with whatever water was provided. The walk through the dark of the city would also help him clear the tangle of his thoughts from alley, and understand where he was.

There was the possibility that someone would give him a couple of dollars. He never liked to beg, and besides the food that they gave away at the food shelter or the restaurants sometimes, he really didn’t need a whole lot of money where he was. He had a couple of dollars in his pocket, but once he decided to spend it on something he needed, it would be gone, and it wasn’t coming back.

He thought about the place that gave away the canned foods. The people that worked there, they would always give him a problem. The canned food store was clean, and looked brand new. And when he would go to get food, he didn’t fit in with how they looked, and what they wanted to do. He thought they believed that they were progress, and his filth was a contradiction to their reality of the city; his coat would be dirty, his pants would be dirty, and he would be dirty.

Cousin stood up, walking to the back of the metal panel to a heavy bag covered under some plastic bags. Opening the book bag, he grabbed the can of peas, pulling the can out the bag, sitting back down to stretch his legs. Opening the book bag, Cousin grabbed the can of peas, pulling the can out the bag, sitting back down to stretch his legs.

How they would look at the wear, and tear of his shoes, the knot of his facial hair, the hair on his head, unkept. He would stand in line, but the line would disappear, and it would just be him waiting for some free food.

Cousin began in struggled with the metal can of peas, and a broken piece of can opener. Putting the whole piece of can opener around the can, he coninued to struggle to pull the top of the can far enough apart for his hand to eat.

He looked at the peas in the water. They were still green, but faded in color, smelling the salt from the can. Besides the carrots, the cans of peas were the only thing that tasted good cold, whether he was hunger or not, and they never turned his stomach as the canned peaches, or applesauce, how he would worry where to use the bathroom.

And even though he was a good size, and liked to eat, he could never just eat, and continue to eat whenever he wanted. There was no easy access to a bathroom without asking, and he never liked to use the bathroom in the alley. The smell would be horrible, sitting for days. Suddenly to have to find a bathroom because he had to use the bathroom was not an option that came with the alley.

He understood that people knew that he slept in the alley, down from their building or around the corner from their store, their restaurant. Going to work, coming from work, to see him sleep or sitting in the alley or something of a human being's possesion that said someone was living. But they didn’t see, and he was alone.

Cousin sucked down a mouthful of peas, chewing through the taste of salt. The peas were good, grabbing another mouthful.

The piece of broken metal held tight in his hand as he began to stir the peas in its mixture. The last of the salted water haggled the back of his throat, now looking where he had put his book bag with the large water jar.

Studying the empty container, Cousin pulled out the tiny insect that damped dead on its side, putting the can to the ground.

Walking back over to the book bag, he grabbed the large glass water jar. He hardly ever carried the jar around with him. Only when he felt sick, did he bring it. To carry around something so big with how he looked brought attention, and noise to his silence. He wanted to be quiet, the liking of silence. Was he carrying some type weapon? To have the police come around for what someone thought.

Cousin put the large jar to his mouth, swallowing. The covered feel of thirst in his mouth, and throat. Swallowing another mouthful, he looked up the alley at the street lights in the distance. The lights appeared small in the distance of the alley. Pulling the canned peaches from the bag, he walked back to where he was sitting.

Cousin grabbed his coat from the alley street, striking it with his hands, knocking the dirt away. Putting it back on, he sat down next to his canned food, grabbing the water jar, swallowing another mouthful. The swirls the water made stared through the glass. It always seemed that from whatever he had to eat, the water would always be the most satisfying. Even when he would get restaurant food or something he would heat in a store, the water would still be best.

The cold water soaked his warmth. To be cold in the cold where it was only going to get colder was something he had had to learn, and he had never really learned it. And with the rain, and the covers of cardboard wet, he would have to suffer, and the thoughts created, an illusion unhealthy. He didn’t like to be in confused thought with people around, with the police at any time walking up on him, questioning him about something. To be locked up in a jail cell was no direction. He was free, but they said they wanted to take away his freedom.

His feet grew numb from the cold of the water, from the cold of the night. Moving his toes through the wet soak of his shoes, and socks, there was nothing, the distraction of the parts of his pants that had remained dry. Cousin grabbed the can of peaches from the alley street, the broken piece of can opener fit nudginly, crooked. He struggled again with the edge of the can. One side wouldn't open, the broken piece never strong enough to pull the can apart.

Squeezing the can from the middle, he finally worked the metal piece around. The top of the can came apart showing dark colored peaches soaking in thick clear syrup.

Eating canned peaches, and drinking water, he would forget that he lived in an alley, away from the world that he had come from. The peaches tasted sweet in the thick syrup. He tried to remember where he got the peaches from. Canned peaches were very difficult to get from the food shelters. Almost as difficult as the loaves of bread in the plastic bags.

He had seen the bread in the grocery stores a couple of times. Looking at the price, it was the most expensive in the store.

How many cans of peaches did he have? The church at the entrance of the city had canned peaches. He had brought another can from the convenient store across the street, and the can that the store owner gave him. He thought have four cans, including what he was eating.

Cousin continued to suck on the syrup, drinking it to the bottom of the can, the small can filled with just peaches.

Peach by peach began the slow eating of the entire can, sweet to the taste. The swallow of the last peach dropped the empty can to his feet, the can rolling perfect into the trash pile.

The car pulled down the back entrance of the alley, parking. Someone got out, running around the corner of the apartment building. The car cut on the bright lights.

Cousin didn’t move as he dropped his hand to his side. He thought to walk across the alley, where the bed mattress stood against the building. That feeling to move, but he couldn’t. Could someone in the car see him, looking at him, talking to him?

The water jar was heavy, lifting it from the alley street, putting it behind where he stood. Looking up at the first floor of the buildings, he looked again into the direction of the car lights. Walking toward the book bag with the water jar in his hand, the car bright lights turned to the front head lights. Someone ran from around the building, getting back into the car.

They were going to see him when they came down the alley, he thought, looking at the bed mattress, at the bed mattresses down the alley by the trash can. The car backed out onto the main street from the back of the alley, driving away from the direction of the city.

Cousin put the jar of water on the alley street, knocking away some peaches that had clustered on his pants.

Untying his shoes, the knotted string untangled, relacing both sneakers tight. He walked across the alley to the small pile of trash. Where had he put the container that he kept his trash in, pulling a small plastic bag kept on the inside of his coat. He tried to keep a plastic bag with him wherever he went in case he saw something he needed, and had to carry it. Depending on how far he walked, to carry something heavy with just his hands was difficult, and tiresome.

Cousin grabbed the two empty cans first, placing them into the plastic, followed by small pieces of plastic, and food plastics that scattered over the wet of more paper, and plastic. Picking up the last of the cans from the alley street, he walked to the small metal container that sat closest to the sidewalk. The lid opening was a struggle, dropping the plastic bag amongst the container contents. The lid positioned itself back ontop the trash can quietly, Cousin walking to the middle of the alley. The puddled water had began to drain somewhere, soaking away from the alley's middle. A couple more hours, and the alley would forget that it had ever rained.

He thought to change the pants he had on over top the other pairs of pants he had on. The night cold might get worse if the rain decided to come back, the rain having gone away, but the dark of the clouds were still above the buildings, thick. The only pair of pants that he didn’t have on amongst the few clothes he kept with him was in the book bag.

Pulling the dark, thick pants from the book bag, making sure not to drop the water jar, Cousin zipped it closed. The bag fitted cemented back behind the metal panel on top the cardboard. The dark pants, over what he had on, made his legs look bigger. He would be warm from the cold in the night morning, he thought, rubbing his hands across the tangled of hair on his face.

One of the first things he had hated about being in the alley for so long was the rough straggle of hair on his face. It had grown from a beard to something of facial hair, and disorder. It made him look crazy, and he wasn’t. The task of finding somewhere, and some way to get rid of the hair had become an obstacle as the alley. He would cut the hair with scissors or a cheap shaver from the store. Cutting scissors from the store were better, not having to deal with a lot of people.

His face continued to itch up under the hair. It was fire, so horrible sometimes that his entire face would smoke, and he would suffer. His hands cupped in a splash of water from the alley street, rubbing the cold water into his his face, and head. He had grown use to the feel of the dirt, and its constant itch until he had stopped scratching completely.

The cold water continued to rub into his skin, wiping loose dirt from his face, pulling his hands over the thick parts of his hair on his head.

As the dark figure turned the building corner from the sidewalk into the alley, Cousin saw him before he looked up, to begin walking in the same direction. From where the man walked coming into the alley, it looked as if Cousin had just walk into the alley before him, walking in the same direction as he was.

Cousin slowed in his walk, further down the alley, looking down at his shoes as if something was wrong. The man continued to walk down the middle of the alley looking, walking pass Cousin in his squatted stand.

As the man passed, walking down by the large trash can, Cousin stood up to continue walking in the same direction. The man, picking up in speed in his walk, walked to the back end of the alley entrance. Cousin continued in the slow of his walk before finally stopping completely. He tried to look as if he was in thought about something, some problem he was dealing with, something he couldn’t figure out.

Stopping in front of the apartment building in the direction of downtown, screaming at one of the windows on the first floor, the stranger to the alley looked around. Cousin began to look, walking up, behind the trash can to walk back in the middle of the alley street.

A woman’s head could be seen in the darkness of the alley, from out one of the apartment windows, begining in conversation with whoever the man was in the alley. He was asking her to do something that she didn’t want to do. Her repeated replies of no echoed throughout the alley.

“I don’t care. You should have known how much gas you had in your car. I gave you all the money I had last time, and you never gave it back.”

“That was a couple nights ago. You haven’t even given me a chance to pay you back. Stop being selfish. The car is around the corner. I need a couple of dollars to get it started, and then I can get it somewhere, and park it.”

Cousin continued his walk down the alley toward the conversation. He had not thought that the man would stop at one of the apartment windows, walking up closer to where he stood talking. He thought to turn around, and walk back, but he didn’t want to make it seem like he was standing in the alley or that he even stayed in the alley.

The man became agitated as the woman continued from the window.

“I don’t care where your car is. You say you coming to see me, and run out of gas around the corner. That says a lot about what you think about us,” turning her head, looking at the large man walking down the alley street.

As Cousin walked up, pass the man, the man turned his head back to the window with the woman. “Just two dollars. I know you have it. Stop being selfish,” he repeated

“No,” the woman said, closing the window.

Cousin’s walk began to look awkward in its slow pace toward the sidewalk. He hadn’t wanted to walk out onto the sidewalk, and the street lights, having already passed the man standing in the alley. He could begin to see the small printed words on the hamburger restaurant, looking down the sidewalk toward the downtown buildings.

Someone walked out the front doors of the apartment building. It was a woman, Cousin turning to walk back into the alley, towards the man now pleading to the closed window. The woman from the apartment entrance walked into the direction of the downtown city buildings.

Cousin passed behind the man again. The tension of strangers in a dark, city alley. The man turned, looking at Cousin, the ragged of his clothes, the ragged cold of his face. Cousin looked down at the alley street, looking up again at the long walk to the alley's front entrance.

Looking back at the hamburger restaurant, he moved his hands into his pants pocket, pulling out a piece of candy. Still walking in stride, he walked further up into the alley, throwing the candy paper into the large trash can. The man standing in the alley looked back up to the dark window. She had cut the lights off.

“Agghhhh, don't cut the lights off. Come back to the window. Come on. It’s just a couple of dollars.” There was no reply, the tint dark of the window in the alley. Turning back into the face of the alley, at a fast pace, the man began to walk up towards its front entrance.

Cousin could hear footsteps approaching fast. Walking from the middle of the alley to the side of the building that covered with shadows from its height, the man looked at the alley entrance, the back and forth of cars on the main street, to walk up behind Cousin.

The loud footsteps from behind him grew louder. Someone was walking up on him, on top of him. He didn’t know. Was it trouble? Should he run, he thought. Was the thing with the woman in the window something to get the man in the alley to cause trouble for him? He had never seen the woman before, but she might had seen him, that he stayed in the alley behind the apartment buildings.

And if the man attacked him, how would he defend himself? He didn’t have anything to fight with, thinking the man might have some type of weapon; a gun or knife or something that he didn’t know about. And then what would he do?

Cousin walked passed the large trash can as the footsteps behind him began to pace as he paced. He wanted to turn, and look, the man walking pass Cousin further up into the alley. Looking passed Cousin, back up into the direction of the apartment building, the man continued in his walk to the front alley entrance. The woman from behind the window had not cut the lights back on as he walked the alley’s entrance, turning the building, disappearing onto the sidewalk.

He didn’t want to look, kicking the pile of bed mattresses quietly. Walking to the brick edge of the building, he looked around as if he was looking for something on the ground, bending down, sliding his hand across the bricks. Picking up a piece of wet paper, it held in his hands as if it was important. Finally throwing it in the direction of the trash can, he looked down at the alley street again, picking up another piece of paper, moving the small paper in his hand. Still wet, folding, and tearing in his hand.

Finally deciding to look, turning first to the back entrance of the alley, he saw someone walking on the sidewalk, away from the city. They looked into the dark distance of the alley to continue in their walk on the sidewalk.

He continued to look at the back alley entrance, listening for some type sound to come from behind. Slowly turning, the mattress was still standing against the building. The apartment window in the abandoned building had the lights on. Cousin turned from the look of the window to the sidewalk, back up into where he ate, and sleep. The man was gone, and he was again alone in the alley.

Cousin walked the shadowed corner of the building that gave way to a small space it created. Sitting on a bottle crate, he leaned back against the building. The crate was positioned perfect. He didn’t have to move anything, and he didn’t have to move. Just close his eyes, relax, and think.

A window down the alley opened from the apartment building as a woman stuck her head out. Looking on the street first, looking into the dark of the alley toward the front entrance, tt was the woman the man from the alley had been talking to.

“Where did he go?” she whispered to herself in disgust, the fold of money in her hand. Cousin could feel himself stiffen. Could she see him? The window closed loud as he looked again at the sidewalk toward the front entrance.

The rest in his sit began to recreate itself. He had to walk back to where he had put his book bag to decide what he would take with him. The walk looked tedious up the alley through possible stares that might be watching. To leave the alley for the night meant that whatever he left might be gone when he came back, if he came back. So whatever he wanted to keep for a certain amount of time, he would have to take it with him.

He had learned that no matter how unimportant something looked, people just had a natural tendency to take things just to take it. For no specific reason, only in that they had taken something that had belonged to someone. To create discomfort in their world of discomfort.

Cousin breathed out the thoughts in his mind, his head resting against the wall, stretching his legs. He felt his feet relax in the layers of socks, and shoes. He would put his boots on. He kept the boots in a pile of cardboard under the loose of some of the alley street that covered a few feet from where he slept. Thinking for a second. But before he did that, he would have to try to move another bed mattress closer to the front of the alley, looking to decide where he would put it. To put it with the other mattress against the building would create clutter close to the sidewalk, and street. To move it toward the back end of the alley entrance would be an eye sore for the people that lived in the apartment buildings.

Looking at the small broken holes at the bottom of the brick building, the edge of the alley street was coming up, its top broken, and cracked. The tear of cardboard had begun to dry on the dark concrete. Depending on how heavy the mattress was, he could move it behind the small metal trash can in the front of the alley that gave way to the restaurant further down the sidewalk. That was a good spot, the mattress with the metal trash can. And the small trash can never moved, remaining in the one spot for as long as he could remember being in the alley.

There had been a couple of people from the sidewalk that would use the trash can, and even though it was owned by the restaurant, they seldom used it as the trash can for their business. They had seen Cousin a couple of times sleep while emptying something, but nothing had come from it, probably thinking he was just sleeping.

Cousin had often thought how a restaurant, regardless of how small it was, could use so small a trash can to take care of all their trash needs, before realizing that they used the large trash can toward the middle of the alley by the pile of bed mattresses.

Closing his mind to the confusion, he decided he would move the mattress to behind where he slept, next to where he kept the biggest pieces of cardboard. The stare of the alley began to close its eyes, Cousin grabbing the top part of his coat, grabbing the hat from his head, the push of thick uncombed hair pulled out under the coat hood. The large hands put the hat inside the coat lining, the hat folding into the lining pocket.

He eased his head against the stand of the building, his shoulders pushing the building how he sat. He had been tired, closing his eyes to the cars that passed on the street . . . . continue