A Just Cause.

Chapter 2

Chapter 2

It's a perfect Sunday afternoon; at least, it is to me. Before I even step outside, I quickly see that the pristine white snow has already been turned into brown puddles of slush that slowly begin to pool into near small lakes. I always admired the two faces of nature, like Yin and Yang or good and evil.

I'm headed for the station.

I walk out through the foyer doors of my red brick apartment building and take in a deep breath of the fantastic air this smelly neighborhood has to offer. As I stroll down Winthrop Street, I put on my headphones, and instantly the sirens fade into my favorite song, "No Diggity" by Backstreet.

"My bad," some dude says after bumping my shoulder really hard. It genuinely hurts. I snap my head back to throw him an expletive but then clamp my lips together instead. Bigger battles to come, I think to myself and dig my hands into my jeans pockets.

"No worries," I say instead under my breath.

I look back again to see a tall hooded guy, speed-walking in a seemingly devious manner. Usually, I would have listened to my instincts and followed him, but today's not one of those days. I need to catch the Sarge before my shift starts. Today is important.

A curly growl from my stomach tells me it needs to be fed. I decided to grab a bite to eat.

"...Thanks man, I'll probably swing by tomorrow too," I blurt out to Pauly from the "Ciao" hot dog stand as I hurriedly walk away. These vendors love their talk, and if you don't act fast, they can quickly eat up half of your day with complaints about the city, crooked politicians, and everything else under the smoggy sky.

I eagerly sink my teeth into the warm bun and meaty sausage with extra onions. Instead of relishing that ever-so-satisfying greasy first bite, out of nowhere, a flash of Mom comes to mind. Just as quickly, I lose all appetite.

'Damn it!" I inadvertently say out loud.

Mom's the one who first introduced me to the culinary arts of NYC vendor hot dogs. Although I don't like to eat out in the open air, as a kid, I used to look forward to our trek downtown on Sundays just for that perfect bite. Mom would find a new stand or truck to try, and we'd go eat them at our favorite spot by 89th Street. Things have changed since then. A lot has changed. The sudden change in mood makes me chuck the rest into the trash bin at the corner.