The Neighborhood
From the window of an apartment across the street he could see on the screen of an old telly playing a hardcore porn video probably from a destroyed cassette. When there were no cars coming up and down the road you could hear the rough voices groaning but it wasn't clear whether they came from the screen or the person who was watching it. Maybe both. That bitch sounded like they were butchering her. Harry laughed. He imagined an interstellar dick – silver and pointy – piercing and cutting her in half so smoothly as if she was a fucking pasta. Her jelly roll was like two big boudoirs for fucks sake. The screen was full of snow and it must have been a very cheap porno but he didn't give a shit because she had big tits and her outrageous expressions made him whicker in the middle of the road.
Such fat dicks fucked her, such expressions she'd give you. But he couldn't complain – Harry fucks more than anyone would ever think someone like him could and his gal was way better on the glass. He didn't care much to see what comes next 'cause he got bored after a while. She reminded him that he had a fucking headache all the time thanks to his troubles. If this stupid porno chick was right there, in front of him, he'd punch her generously and she'd take away all his problems along with her fake groans. If bitches cum like that he'd rather take' em all from behind so that he won't have to look at their fucking faces. Their rotting faces. They don't know how to shoot a good thing anymore. And we are pleased with their mediocrity and the bullshit they serve us to watch.
He lit a cig and he gripped it in his mouth. It was a little twisted and creased but it was his last one. He was standing outside Korina's betting shop and he turned around to look at it with bitterness and frustration. His blue-jeans were dirty and he had to wash them at some point but he always forgets that – there are always so many things wandering around in his little head, there are always so many things to do. Of course, he wasn't one of those guys who stink in the bus; at least he had the decency not to walk around with such foibles. But there were these days when his luck came so apart at the seams that he forgot to wash his clothes. What can you say. He took a long, pissed drag.
"Motherfuckers! Fucking motherfuckers! You fucking fucks!", he gnashed his teeth as he was mumbling under his breath and even though he smokes too much his teeth hadn't turn yellow yet nor did his fingers look like dried shit. Nothing like that would ever happen though. He'd rather chop his fingers than cut off smoking. He gripped his belt and snapped the thick heel of his boot on the pavement. He turned around to look at the shop again and sniffled his nose.
"Fuckers! Stupid fucks..", he gripped the cig between his teeth and walked away. His concern wasn't whether he was losing money or not – this was a constant and unchanged situation – but his stupidity. He couldn't understand how he manages to lose every time since he's a smarty when it comes to catching bets. He knew when was the right time to show the money and how many, he felt it and he knew it would go well. Whenever he advised someone else what to do, they thanked him later for the hundred bucks they made without even thinking what they had to do in the first place. They just ended up with money in their pockets.
He was jinxed with himself. That's what it is. Many laughed when they'd watch him sit at the central table inside the betting shop and hit his fist on it for one more time while he was clutching the little betting papers in the other hand. His position, his gaze, the way he blinked – always the same. He always had the same longing to win. The same shit every time. He was the local joker. The old chaps were laughing and their eyes turned into small thin lines from the wrinkles, their sideburns were curly and some of them wore hats with the name of a repair shop in the middle.
They went too far today. Especially Korina. Yet it was her betting shop and she had every right to do anything she pleased with it. He declared it clearly: "I'm not gonna step in this shithole again", he meant it this time. Korina laughed and her tattooed shoulders were going up and down in every breath she took, her hoops were going back and forth as if they were a tied lasso around his fucking neck until it'd choked him.
He didn't say a fucking word while she was fooling around and the regular guests went along. Not a fucking word. She'd be smarter if she'd opened a pub for the old crocks. These fuckers were sitting there all day doing nothing and they always demand to have the last word. Harry said that to her once: "You'd make more money if this place was a pub and you were stuffing them with weird shit", all she did was smile while wearing her regular puff sleeve tops with those tiny myriad flowers and her cleavage wide open. He fiended for her tits 'cause she was a fine chick and she knew it. But who could hit on her in there? She was a tough bitch to fall for some coyness but that's another story.
It rained at dawn, now there was a peculiar cloud cover. Harry wore his purple glasses; this fucking glare pissed him off. The weather was as annoying as the porno bitch. He could still hear in his head her voice repeating the irritating groan endlessly like a tiring ringing in his ears. Her voice was like this sudden pitch you hear all over from broken loudspeakers. She'd stay in his head all day along with his bad luck to remind him of his misery. One more cig would be ideal. The kiosk was closed because Clairie was religious and she had to go every Sunday afternoon to the church and he had to wait until nine. Jesus would be happy if she did a good deed and opened it earlier.
He walked towards his damn car; he sat it and banged the door. At least it didn't stink of mold or piss in there after all these times they had snatched it but had the kindness to return it. Not because they liked Harry – that's for sure. Lady-Marina passed by. Harry was checking her out every early morning while she was pegging her clothes on the plastic strings that stick out from her little balcony and he could take a good look of her big tits inside her loose robe. She'd be twenty or something years older than him but she was one of these women whom you never get bored of fucking nor do they turn into raisin beldams. They just grow old like all of us because there comes a time when you feel tired. Anyone who hasn't got their pockets full grows tired. Harry believed that deeply. He respected those who walked with their head up. Lady-Marina had an erotic walk. He whistled and she turned around with an attitude 'cause she was sure as hell she'd look straight at his pretty little face.
"How's it going, man-child?", she took a quick look at the betting shop and then turned back to him, "Your pockets are empty again?"
"Don't worry.. it wasn't your rent", she moved her hand scornfully.
"Leave it, Harry. You already owe me a quarter but I can't throw you on the street, can I?", she couldn't.
"May I give you a lift?"
"With this?", the color was a little faded and scratched with some dents here and there but it wasn't junk.
"I bet my caddy is like those land yacht limousines you used to take rides on the wild side, huh?"
"I don't think you've ever seen a limousine in your whole life, boy", Harry took his hand out of the window and knocked his car with pride.
"My clunker's better. Don't you forget that!", it wasn't much but it was a rough car and even though it had a load of years on its back it slided just as well with its firm tailfins.
"How long do you have it?"
"I grew up in here, Lady-Marina"
"I hope it lasts but I doubt it"
"It'll last"
"I can take you home"
"I'd say you better go find your girl"
"Alright.. if you say so"
"Man-child..", Lady-Marina whispered, he turned to face her and his gaze went straight looking for her cleavage, "Long gone are the days when I used to ride cars with boys"
"You missed one"
"Get lost", she laughed, "I could be–", she posed for a moment pretending that she's thinking, "–your cousin", she bent over on the door and he could finally take a good look inside her shirt.
He turned the car on and waved, he could see her from the rear view mirror walking away. Whatever. There'll be another chance. He didn't fancy her but he couldn't say she was a turn-off either. On the contrary. He waved his head as if he had made a deal with himself and took the way to Jim's place.
It smelled like piss there again. Hasn't he grown tired of cleaning the mess every drunkard leaves for him? He was out again mopping the sidewalk. He couldn't get mad though otherwise how could he do the job right? He'd be there cursing those drunk fucks mopping the street again and again until he calmed down. Harry parked across the street and he managed to avoid the dirty water he threw just in time.
"You don't change your routine, huh, Jim?"
"Shut up Harry", he said laughing, "Every time Cecilia treats everyone a couple of drinks I'm the one paying!"
"I hope they just pissed over there"
"Don't worry. If they leave their turds here you'll see what will happen"
"Did you bring anything good today?"
"I brought some nice little things in the morning. I took them yesterday. Bring me the stands out now, will ya? I'm late again with this shit", Harry went into the store and grabbed the closed tables, he carried them out and he set them before Jim started cleaning them with a wet rag that smelled like juicy granny smiths. Jim laid the folded clothes on the tables with care.
"That's how my grandpa used to fold my clothes on the bed every morning before school", he was smiling, "He was very clean"
"Your place is fine, you banged it away"
"Eh, I had a job dolling this up but I managed it", they stared together at the frontage of the store as if they've never seen it a dozen times before and Harry noticed today that its sign hadn't faded from the sun yet. It was as good as new.
"Whatever you did, it called it"
"It's been a while since then but it seems to me that it was only yesterday"
"I know.."
"Well? What do you want? Go inside and look around. I'll be here", Jim sat on his regular plastic white chair with his turquoise track jacket holding his coffee and wearing his black sunglasses. Jim knew that paying 30$ for a shirt was a fucking robbery and that's why he kept his mama's store and most of the people in the neighborhood were shopping from him. He didn't have tawdry shit. Jim had good stuff that didn't fall apart from the first time in the washing machine or when some ketchup fell on them.
Jim had a friendly face like his store. You'd find him sitting on that plastic chair all the time and in the afternoons many kinds of people would come and join him to the bench beside him. He didn't care if they'd buy something or not. Jim was the kind of person who never gets tired of a good talk or company, that's why he kept this joint even if he didn't like it in the first place. "What the fuck", he said to himself, "It's worth it". He had had his best evenings there. The best part was when chicks would come to shop their underwear and he knew which one of them wore a tanga or a string without passing as a pervert. On the contrary, the girls smiled with their glossy lips and shopped there often along with their girlfriends.
Harry was holding three thick jumpers, two white undershirts and a pair of blue jeans. His mum, Miss Anjelina, would tell him that she has grown tired of watching him all the time wear only a fucking pair of jeans but he let her do the talking and when she was done, he kept on with his life. Jim didn't have cheap tricks so he could to steal from you, he'd rather starve for a week rather than cheat you for a couple of dollars more. He'd been there. Many times.
"How much do you want for these?"
"Did you find something good?", he turned around to face him.
"I did, yes"
"Let me see..", he reached for the clothes with the hand-rolled cigarette between his fingers, he put his glasses behind his shaved head and squinted his eyes to take a better look. He folded them properly and stood up. They went back inside and he put them in a bag – he had all kinds of bags from many stores except one with the name of his own on it.
"How much do you want?"
"Give me whatever you want"
"This trick is stupid, Jim. How are you gonna keep this open if you hand away everything?"
"If you don't have much, bring them tomorrow"
"I have money Jim"
"Give me whatever you got", Harry took out his wallet and put seventy bucks on the counter. Jim looked at him suspiciously.
"This is too much"
"It's all I got now"
"Wait then", he squeezed his hand inside his pocket for some change.
"Jim, I'd rather give them to you than Korina and her betting shop", Jim had an uneven smile on his face and took the money.
"Korina is a nice girl. You are the one with the problem"
"Well, I know.. but I'd rather you keep it"
"Wait", he went back inside and came back with a box filled with his painted tobacco cases, "Here. A little something for Nora"
"I ain't gonna take this shit for free. It's your work"
"That's why I want to give them away. This way I don't get cocky", he winked and put the cig back in his mouth, "Take one and give it to her as a gift", he looked at him with a knowing glance and Harry smirked. It took a while until he decided which one he liked the most.
"Good one. It suits Nora", Jim stared at the leather case in bliss, "I was pleased when I made this.. I took the sketch from a fairy tale book"
"You think she'll like it?"
"Dude are you shitting me? It's a work of art! Who wouldn't like it?", he grinned and Harry saw the gap between his two front teeth. He looked like a child.
"Thanks man. How are things at home?"
"As you know it"
"How long has it been?"
"It's been a while..", he raised his glasses again and put them on his forehead, Harry suddenly felt guilt and he clenched his jaw but ignored this stupid thought.
"She's fucking stubborn"
"Man, she's her mother. She does as she pleases"
"You are her father"
"You know how things are. The last time I went there do you know what she asked me? Who are you 'sir'. I am a 'sir' now.."
"That store needed a sacrifice"
"It's not my store that keeps me away from my girl. Don't fuck with me in from of my face"
"Then what?", Jim looked at Harry with resentment. His eyes reminded him of himself a long time ago when he was hurt for the first time and he felt it through his bones like electricity.
"I don't know why you're saying that. But I'm sure you understand. I won't get up and leave from the place I grew up so that Sergio can sprawl himself allover"
"Sergio's not bothering you"
"He bothers many people. I don't know what relations you keep with him..", Harry didn't believe him, he was smart enough to imagine what kind of 'relations' Sergio made him do, "I know this – he's not on my side. Little-Loulou's daughter got so roughed up the other day and now she can't fucking see from the one eye! Doesn't this bother you?", Harry was suspicious, he put his hand in his mouth and took out his small dentures for his six front teeth. He showed it to Jim just to remind him of that. He already knew but sometimes we get to choose what to forget.
"Don't tell me what Sergio is capable of..", he mumble while putting it back in his mouth.
"Then why are you running around doing errands for him?"
"Things change, Jim. They change. I don't want to be stuck here"
"It's fine here"
"Maybe for you"
"Why? It's not enough for you?"
"No"
"What more does Sergio have to offer you?"
"Money"
"Money?"
"Money to get away from here..", Jim looked at Harry in melancholy, he put on his glasses and sat on his plastic chair. Harry's voice and his face had changed since Sergio set foot in Roseville and declared that things are gonna be different without asking anyone's opinion about it. Harry compromised like many others except from those who left and moved to the other side of town and kept on with their lives ignoring what was going on here. They didn't bother Sergio, he didn't bother them. Jim wasn't expecting Harry to understand him, he had his reasons after all and every man makes his choices. Jim was disappointed every time he saw him like that, he had a face with a tired and cogitative expression, enraged and strange at times. He hoped that he hadn't changed a lot – at least for the worst. He missed his company but he couldn't say that now. Instead, he came out with this:
"You gonna sit here for a while? I see your clunker over there and I have many memories from when we were back in high school"
"Ha! We managed to do everything!", Harry laughed and Jim noticed something sweet hiding at the edges of his eyes – almost everything, "I think I'll hit the road"
"Stay, man. The guys will come over in a while and they'll bring some good stuff to eat. See! I have the barbeque all set up here", Harry thought about it for a while and decided to stay. Why not? He didn't have something better to do while Nora was shooting. No. He'd stay and he'd eat his steak for free.
Many gathered here; Jolene brought all sorts of things and the barbeque was already heating up. Little-Loulou came by along with Andrew, Roxanne, Betty, Sam 'The Man' and his fat cousin Cecilia whom everyone wanted to fuck because she had the biggest bong-lips but you didn't always make it if you said that in her face. Some others passed by who swarm like flies when they sniff free meat.
"There he is!", shouted Cecilia and turned around to take a good look at him, "About time! Did you come out of your hole little mole?", Harry hugged her.
"Big guy! Where have you been?", this was Sam 'The Man' with one good eye and a glass one which made him feel very proud of since he could show off when there were chicks around.
"What did you bring me?", Jim took the bag from Sam and smiled, "You're okay!", he took the sausages out and gave them to Cecilia. She was the expert. It never took her much time to tell a bad sausage from an ideal one. Those were good stuff, "I knew you would bring me something good!"
"He couldn't do otherwise", Cecilia warned him and Harry laughed.
"I didn't expect you to stay..", Jim leaned close to him and whispered when Harry reached for a beer. He seemed surprised.
"Why not?"
"Cause you are a bit distant lately", he shaked his shoulders carelessly.
"I've got things to do"
"With whom? Sergio?", Jolene blundered, her eyebrows were so bleached you couldn't tell she had any and there was a piercing underneath her upper lip. You never saw her with short hair, always wavy and untied, so blonde that sometimes made you think they were white. She'd always wear a brown coat with thick fur inside – it was her only coat, it was Jolene's coat until summer.
"I have things to do, Jolene. Many kinds of things"
"Come on Harry, don't lose your temper"
"I think Harry needs a beer", Jim grabbed one from the bucket with the ice.
"Well, we don't see you around here now, do we?"
"People are dying Andrew every day"
"And you look after the dead?", Andrew had this weird look on his face as if he knew too much and Jolene laughed with Cecilia. Harry didn't care. He went along with it.
"I am a caring man", he didn't want to get angry because this was all they could do to Sergio. They wouldn't get more daring than that. So, he drank his beer and had a laugh with them.
"Well, one thing is certain Harry", Little-Loulou came close, she had the old garage at the center of Roseville for boxing training, "Whatever you do now, I'll never forget that you coughed up for my little baby when they busted her", everyone agreed at once and she smiled with her orange freckles shining in the last light of dusk.
"That was cool man"
"I didn't do much, Jim. Marilou did all the work"
"Yeah but.. if you hadn't had a word with her and if you hadn't paid the money, then things would be different"
"Look, Loulou, I did everything I could"
"God bless you for that. But it wasn't the only thing you did for us, right?"
"Of course not!", Jim shouted, "If they lock me up, I know who's gonna take care of my baby girls", he hugged Harry and he felt something bizarre itching his chest, someday long ago he'd agree with him but now he wasn't certain.
"To Harry!", everyone raised their beers and wished him the best, he smiled and drank to his name. He didn't care much to persuade them that all this talking they did was plain wind nor did he care to prove to them that he hadn't listened to a word from what they were saying about him. He just went there to amuse himself. There were times when he was very close with them but things change. Things always change and these things happen. He wouldn't feel guilty about it now.
What concerned Harry was to pay off whomever was nagging about him owing them money and get the hell out of there. Roseville was his prison. He wouldn't stand another day in Chicago. He had to leave otherwise he could see where he'd end up. He didn't want to become like Jim who worked for pennies at this shitty shop of his in the flea market. He didn't want to become like Korina and her fucking betting shop or Sam 'The Man' who served beers at his cousin's cheap bar to whomever went there to knock some balls on the felt.
Harry took a good look at them. They were careless and carefree. They terrified him. He'd hung out sometimes at Roxanne's barber shop or Andrew's little fried chips canteen and he wondered how they could live like this. Was it enough? Didn't they desire something more? Didn't they have dreams?
Alas! He desired the notorious waves and the shining sun, he desired its rays to sunburn him and the sea salt to dry on his shoulders and his hair scent from the spume of the sea – some of them would be wet and some of them damply. He couldn't find in Roseville the notorious waves he was after.
If Harry wanted to get away, he had to follow the path of the Aquarius.
Hey there dear darlings! The first chapter is officially here! I hope it pays off. I have to remind you that the book is finished - all done for real till the smallest detail - and all I have to do now is create a posting schedule. Leave your comments - I'm so eager to receive your feedback. It's important to me. Very important. The playlist will be ready soon (and many more!). I'm telling you - I'm so excited I'm banging my head on the fucking keyboard!!!
I love you Dear Darlings to the moon and back.