Roof Top Shadow
While i was in the process of walking over to the rather plump woman in the red dress sitting down in the bar, I noticed a suspicious looking guy sitting at the bar. I had never seen him in there before so naturally I was a bit curious about the fellow. Something about him just wasnt right. He was trying just a little too hard to be noticed. He stank like a pig. He just had that ora about him. I didnt much like reporters in my bar because I figured that they were always up to no good, so imagine how peved I was when I saw this little foul cop in my establishment. I told Left to tell the bar tender to let that pig catch a glimpse of some of the tools that we kept behind the counter just to let him know what he had waiting for him if he ever came back to my place. I couldnt believe this guy. If it aint one thing its another, right? I needed a smoke and some fresh air. The only thing was that I couldnt go for a walk because it was raining cats and dogs outside. The damn whether men never got it right. Hmmp, 72 and partly cloudly...right. I walked over to the window to see if the storm had done any real damage outside. When I looked up at the clouds to try and see which direction the storm was headed, I saw what appeared to be a person standing on the roof of the Washington Heights Apartment buildings. It was kinda hard to make out exactly what they were doing on account of the freakin gale force winds and rain outside but it looked as if they were trying to cover up something on top of that roof. I couldnt make out what it was though. That was just too curious for me to let. I told Lefty that as soon as the storm let up to get up on top of that roof and check things out. Whatever was going on up there was obviously important enough to risk being struck by lightning, meaning that it was definitely something that I needed to know about. Nothing worth while should go on around here, if I didnt know about it. I told Lefty to find out what they were covering up by any means necessary. I wanted to know who was on that building and why. I told Lefty to get the scoop and bring the info on this mystery character to me.
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I guess I'm going to have to get my hair done again...
I woke up Tuesday morning to a surprising peacefulness in the air. I wondered what could possibly be different today to make the air in my house still and calm... then I realized - Alexander hadn't woken up yet. Damnit. I went to Alexander's room to see why he wasn't promptly up at 7:25 like he usually is. I walked in his dark room, which before he got there was one of the guest rooms which was always nicely done and properly cleaned. On the contrary, now the room was littered with his some 6 pairs of shoes... which were all purchased by me... his soccer bag and soccer clothes, his dirty clothes from the day before... no maybe the week before, and other garbage.
"Alexander, it's 7:30, don't you need to get up to be ready for school?"
"I'm not going to school today grandma, I feel like shit," he said, shortly.
"Well ok, but I am not going to be here at all today because I am going to play mahjong and my friend Minnie is making me go to a tai chai class," I told him.
"You're not going to be here? Then what am I supposed to do? Just lay around dying? Can you at least buy me some more roast beef at Oscar's before you come home? he asked... quite demandingly I might add.
"Sure thing Alexander, just sleep in and I'll be home later."
I left the dark room and ended up having the best morning I could remember. I didn't have to worry about setting out Alexander's breakfast promptly before he came out of his morning shower, or have to deal with his pleads for taking the car to school that day. No, instead I was able to watch the morning news (Not SportsCenter like Alexander watched every morning despite my miseries) and drink my coffee. I left around 11 and Alexander had moved to the living room where he was lounging around, eating chips, and playing video games. He said he just felt too terrible to go into school at all. I told him I would call him later when I was leaving Mahjong. I met up with my friend Minnie who was always pushing me to be more active. I know I don't seem like the type to cuss by she was beginning to be an annoying bitch. I'm 82-years-old, I don't need to be doing tai chai.. or yoga.. or any other shit like that.
I had a terrible time like usual in the tai chai class... Minnie walked out of it like it was some orgasmic experience... she sickens me sometimes. I told her I had to cut our play-date short because I had to go to Oscar's before it closed for Alexander.
I walked into Oscar's and like usual he greeted me nicely. He was such a nice man all the time. Nobody treated me the way he did. He was so charming and kind.. old-fashioned. They just don't make men like him anymore. Not since the 50s had I remembered men like his kind. I ordered 2 lbs of roast beef (Alexander eats like crazy) and got my usual 2 lbs at the price of one senior citizen discount. I guess it might be the only upside of being on the brink of death... people feel bad for you and give you more shit for less money so you can be put out of your misery.
I sat down waiting for Oscar to finish cutting my roast beef and a man that was familiar walked up to me. I am pretty sure he was that Machelli guy who was always in Oscar's talking to Oscar in the back.
"Hello Ms. Pearl, how are you today? You look lovely," he said... chillingly.
"I'm fine... who are you," I asked, frightened.
"Name's Machelli, but that's irrelevant. Have you seen a sketchy looking character wandering around the upper floors of Washington heights? Smells kinda funny... kinda fat too?" He asked.
"Can't say I have. Is he some sort of milk man?" I asked.
"Never mind it old lady, I think your meat's ready anyways, See ya later."
He winked to Oscar and walked briskly out of the store, stepping into some foreign vehicle and zooming away. Oscar gave me the meat and a hug like he usually did. I walked outside and the damn wind was blowing harder than I can remember.
"Shit, my hair is going to be ruined isn't it?" I thought.
I will definitely have to go to the beauty parlor again for this. I just went yesterday. I don't know what is going to happen first; either I am going to go to the poor house or I'm going to die first.
I got my cell phone out of my purse to call Alexander but before I could punch in the speed dial number it showed that he was already calling me.
"Grandma where are you? It's like 4:15!?" He asked... politely of course.
"I'm on my way Alexander don't you worry... I hope you're feeling better," I said.
"Yeah I am feeling better but I'm hungry and need some food. I got to take a piss so I gotta go, I'll see you soon, bye grandma!"
He hung up the phone as I walked into the Washington Heights. I got in the elevator and even though I was going up I felt like I was actually spiralling down to hell.
In places such as Washington Heights, people have problems with drugs, violence and many other things. Their circumstances can sometimes be so terrible that they can be influenced to make bad decisions resulting with them in jail, homeless, or even dead. In this place there are people who are comfortable with settling for less, there are some who have hope and try to escape by doing better for themselves, and then there are those who have already made it to success however the city's shadow catches up with them and shatters their lives. The question is "Where does Lucy Evan's life fit?"
"I am so done with this sh@*!"
I woke up from a dream on my couch. I never moved from where I cried and fell asleep from my exhaustion from last night's terrible event. My dream was about me changing from a perfectionist girl who never did much of anything when it came to enjoying life's thrills, to a more mature woman who does whatever the hell she feels like when she feels like. I woke up feeling empowered, free, and liberated! I liked that feeling.
"From here on I'm going to enjoy what life has given me. I'm going to live everyday like it was my last."
The mugging experience showed me how easy it was for life to be taken. I was dissatisfied with how I lived so conservatively, like I was afraid or something. Even though I was a victim, my perseverance has made me stronger. I will forever stand tall. That night I suffered from terror, but that morning I was no longer afraid.
I got on the phone with another doctor telling him I needed him to come in for me because I had to take a break from everything that happened. "Thank you very much and I appreciate your understanding." I'm determined to make my future better than my past. I got dressed, and left...Where? I don't know.
It was a rainy and windy outside of course. Washington Heights never gets any nice weather, but it didn't matter. I walked down a couple blocks to the bar. I saw Dominic outside the door smoking a cigarette.
"Could I get one?" I asked.
"Sure, but I've never seen you smoke before."
"Yeah I know, I'm changing things up from now on."
We finished our smokes, then I walked inside the bar. I looked around and found the bar. I drank till I couldn't feel my stress. I wasn't drunk, but I was "happy"...alright I'll be honest, I was DRUNK off my ass. Either way I was having a good time. It was a nice feeling not having to be under so much pressure. I was finally able to relax.
Then I met a guy that only ever existed in my dreams. He was tall, dark and handsome. It was like heaven when I looked into his eyes. It was like the whole bar didn't exist anymore, time stood still, and every noise was silent it was just me and him... "BLLUUUGH"
I felt so sick suddenly, I drank too much alcohol and that cigarette from earlier didn't do my stomach any good either.
"O my god! You don't look so hot" He said
"Thanx, I don't feel so hot either...too much drinking for me tonight." I said frowning.
I was so messed up I couldn't see straight, or walk straight at that. I told him I was going home, but he told me I shouldn't go alone. I attempted to walk out the door, but he stopped me. I told him I'd be fine, but he wasn't convinced.
"Here, lemme take you home...please?"
I could see that he wasn't going to take no for an answer,"Okay okay you can take me home."
As he drove his car towards the Washington Heights building, I saw a girl looking in the window at the flower shop. (I wonder what in the world that skinner girl wanted to do with flowers at this time of night.) Instead of taking the stairs, he had me go up to the sixth floor in the elevator. We made it the door of my apartment, but by the time we walked in everything just went black...
The guy's name was Mark, and for some reason he cared about me. He wasn't like the "other" guys. I could tell just by looking at him. I was really drowsy and I woke up in the comforts of my soft bed. Mark was leaning over me and talking to me quietly saying,
"You're going to be okay, I would never let anything happen to someone like you. Thank you for letting me get you home safe".
I smiled barely able to open my eyes, and whispered, "No thank you".
He proceeded to walk out my room heading for the door. I thought to myself how sweet he was to me, then I realized that very sweetness was about to leave, and there was a possibility that I may never see him again!
"Wait!" I said as loud as I could. "Don't leave now, it's almost four o'clock in the morning. Will you stay here and keep me company?"
"Well I don't know.."
"...but I want you to"
We locked eyes for a second till he said he would. He pulled up a chair near me and sat there till I fell asleep. That was the first time in a long time that I've gone to sleep to content and happy.
George Jefferson - A Week Off
George Jefferson hurt. A lot. He opened his eyes and slowly lifted himself out of bed. He stared into space for a few seconds, then looked at his right arm. The bandage was so itchy. He hadn't noticed the shard of glass wedged in his arm after he had fallen through the skylight at Oscar's until he got back to his apartment that night. He had rushed straight to the hospital (after changing out of his costume, of course), where the doctors where able to remove the shard. Unfortunately, they also said that, in order to heal completely, Jefferson would have to avoid lifting heavy objects with that arm; heavy objects like his sword.
So Jefferson had decided to take a week off. He had hid his sword and costume underneath some floorboards in his apartment and done nothing for the past few days. This morning he felt terrible. He was bored and tired, and couldn't shake a feeling of uselessness. However, he knew that if he took to the streets to fight crime too soon, he would risk injuring himself permanently. He decided to take a walk to get some fresh air.
He left the building. It was cool and overcast. A strong breeze blew past as soon as he stepped on to the sidewalk. Not the best day for a walk, he thought, but then again it had been this way all week. He walked down to the park. He passed a young woman walking her dog. She smiled awkwardly at him. Jefferson smiled back. There was a paperboy at the end of the street. The boy was probably homeless, thought Jefferson. He walked up to the boy and bought a newspaper. He gave the boy a twenty. "Keep the change." said George. He was feeling generous. "Gee, thanks mister!" said the boy. Jefferson just smiled at him. He walked away and opened the paper. There was a story about the incident at Oscar's last week. Police were investigating Machelli for opening fire in a public place, and Oscar for the illegal gambling. George smiled even more. Taking a walk was definitely a good idea. Then another cold when blew through and chilled Jefferson to the bone.
He heard the paperboy yell "Hey!" Jefferson turned around. An angry, bitter-looking homeless man was running the opposite way down the street. "He took my money!" yelled the paperboy. Jefferson didn't even blink. He dashed down the street and clocked the homeless man in his face - with his left hand, of course. The man fell to his knees, cursing and screaming something about rich people. Jefferson twisted the man's arm around to his back and plucked the bag of money out of his hand. Jefferson couldn't tell what the homeless man was saying - it was all expletives and rage. Just then a slightly pimped Cadillac pulled up. Its back door opened, and Dominic Roberto Machelli stepped out.
"Is there a problem here?" Machelli asked threateningly. Jefferson stood up to his full height; he was slightly taller than Machelli. "This man stole that boy's money."
"You seem familiar. I don't suppose you do this vigilante stuff regularly?" said Machelli, eyeing Jefferson's bandaged arm.
"No, I'm just an honest citizen doing his duty." said Jefferson, sternly. The homeless man had slowly snuck away as the young paperboy ran up.
"Here you go, son," said Jefferson, handing the boy his bag of change. "Hold on to that now."
"Good," said Machelli. "We don't need any more vigilantes in this city. Quite frankly, I think one is too many. It's dangerous work. someone could get hurt." Machelli had emphasized that last bit. He turned and climbed back into his car. Jefferson could feel his hand slowly reaching for the sword he didn't have. He stayed his hand, and just stood there, glaring as Machelli's car drove off. "Uh, thanks mister," the boy said, and he hurried away. Jefferson watched as the boy ran back to his street corner. He thought about the boy and the homeless man. Both were products of their environment, an environment created by the rich and greedy - rich and greedy people like Machelli. Something would have to be done. Machelli couldn't rule this city forever. Maybe it was time George Jefferson became less like Batman and more like Robin Hood.
It felt so good to be home. I’m so tired of this weather and all these fools running around here. My hair’s all fucked up. I look a hot mess now. I need to do something with it before I go to work.
I haven’t gone out in a long time. I should go out tonight. Every time I go out to the bar one of those idiots is tryin to get me tto dance there. Some Italian big shot thinks he owns the town. Well he don’t own me. I dance wherever I damn well please, or where ever I can make the most. Maybe I’ll go check it out. It’s not like I’m rakin in the big buck now. If I get in with the owner, maybe I can even get an advance outta him. You never know what you can get out of a horny son of a bitch who thinks he owns you. Manipulation is the key. Men are easy. I figured that out at a young age. Men are easy. Real easy.
Oscar Alcazar
Grandma Pearl's aging behind waddled across the street. A white paper bag, stenciled with red cursive, reading "Oscar's," swung at her hip. "There's a good customer," Oscar said to himself. "Thank god little Alexader has the appetite of a rabid polar bear."
He slunk down into his Cadillac and rolled down to the bar. As he entered Machelli was in a heated argument with grimy young rapscallion, trying to pass off a fake ID. "Get the hell out! Do you know who I am? Boy I will find where you live, hunt down your family, and...." Oscar grabbed the kid by his collar and slung him out the door.
"Robby Mac! How's business?"
"As you can see, it's going pretty smooth my friend. Come on upstairs."
The upstairs was carpeted, floor to ceiling, with plush animal furs. This was the high life. For sure. Machelli poured Oscar a drink, and his massive hand enveloped the glass. "Life's good my man, life's good."
"That's good to hear," Oscar replied. They made small talk for a few minutes, before Oscar trudged home to flip his sign. He was hoping for a big night.
As the Caddy rolled into the parking lot, Oscar glanced across at the towering apartment building. Marissa's high heels clicked as she strutted into the front door. Before the glass door shut behind her, she looked back and motioned to Oscar. Oh yeah, she beckoned him alright. She wanted a little Columbian coconut, and he wasn't gonna say no.
"Eh, the store can wait." Oscar lumbered across the street to the welcoming lair of Basement Babe.
Exploring her new neighborhood, Lola came across an ominous man. He was in an involved conversation with another man, with not-so-lady-like ladies hanging on his arms, eccentrically dressed: a wide brimmed hat with a feather, a gaudy, cheap suit, and a cane. The ominous man shooed the feathered-hat man and the trollops away as he caught sight of Lola’s questioning glance.
“Haven’t seen you before...that’s strange. I know everybody and everything that goes on in this city. I own this city.”
“Goodness gracious,” Lola thought to herself “I must be talking to the mayor or something.”
“ I am Dominic Roberto Machelli.”
“ Ooooh, what an exotic name,” pondered Lola.
The trusting and naive Lola poured out her heart about why she had come to Washington Heights and how she was trying to be a showgirl.
“Well I own the bar. You can come and show anything... I mean any time you want,” he said with a smirk.
Her chance meeting of Dominic Roberto Machelli had resulted in this gracious offer to “give her a shot” at being a showgirl in his bar. The oh so optimistic Lola thought a bar would be the perfect practice to prepare her for performances in the lovely lounges in Vegas, so she eagerly accepted.
********
Lola’s lively prance melted into a dragging shuffling of her feet as she neared her stage. She was not feeling so good about this show any more, but Dominic had been nice enough to let her give her routine a try. The red, smokey light hid everything but the hungry, glossy, glassy glances all awaiting her show. As Viva Las Vegas began to blare though the busted bar speakers, she timidly began to strut her stuff. “Take it off” she heard. “Oh how fortunate! They must want me to take off this dreadfully heavy sequined hat.” She tossed the headdress onto which she had painstakingly sewn the sequins. Then she was comfortable. She was really moving now, but the people were still telling her to remove something. Lola was very confused. As she pondered what they could possibly want her to remove, a roaming hand slid up her stocking as another one ripped her feather boa from around her neck. She swatted the hand, and fumbled as she lost her balance. What kind of place is this. She looked around for some comforting glance, but she was only met with angry clouded eyes of boozed-up men, the laughing eyes of Molina Rose, and the disappointed yet amused stare of Dominic. As she stood petrified on the stage a sneaking snake of a man had slithered behind her and began to loosen her corset. Lola ran, her costume sliding off of her as her tears rolled down her cheeks. Back in the refuge of the bar bathroom, she gathered her possessions as she tried to pull her costume and herself back together. She blew past Molina Rose and tried to hurry out past Dominic. She didn’t know what he might do to her. Too late he had already seen her try to leave. He did not move, he did not look up from trying to clean grimy glasses Lola simply heard him chuckle as she left in tears: “Hey kid for a show girl you sure didn’t show much of anything”
********
The wind blew wisps of Lola’s hair as walked toward the thrift store. She shuddered as the cool breeze sent shivers up her spine. The memory of that night in the bar haunted her. The yellow feathers, that flew as she tried to escape strangled her thoughts, the heels that she broke when running back to her lonely apartment matched her broken heart and dreams. She swallowed the growing lump in her throat and looked up at the sky for some tiny ray of sunshiny hope. Nothing. Just clouds, clouds, clouds, and cold, dreary, drippy wind. Wasn’t it ever sunny in Washington Heights? She received her answer as she entered the thrift store and saw the lackluster shoe selection. “Oh fiddle sticks...they don’t even have any heels to cheer me up. It is never sunny in Washington Heights never. This place is just not very lovely at all. Lola stood in front of the sorry excuse for shoes and shed a tear.
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