Jericho ~ Past
“YOU GO ON OUTSIDE NOW, while I take care of business,” my mother said. Her eyes had that glassy look that I hated, and the tall guy with the big belly in our living room was giving me a look that said if I didn’t get moving, he’d kick me until I did.
So, I left.
It was already dark, and kinda cold. Although, if I had a jacket, it probably wouldn’t be so bad.
“I hate her,” I mumbled, then looked over my shoulder, sure I’d see her standing there, ready to smack the words out of my mouth.
My arms were skinny, but they were getting bigger. I’d started working out after school, after seeing how big some of the eighth graders at my school were. I’d followed some of the football players and found them all lifting weights and doing pushups and stuff, so I’d started hanging out and doing what they did.
At first, I’d thought they’d catch me and kick me out, I was only in sixth grade after all, and they usually didn’t want nothing to do with us. But Bo, one of the biggest guys, lived in my same apartment building and said he’d vouch for me.
Whatever that meant.
I think it meant he knew who I was, knew who my mom was . . .
“It’s better for him to come here and work out, gain some muscle so he can take care of himself, then end up on the streets with the druggies, or worse,” I’d heard Bo tell the coach one day.
Anyway, because of that, no one gave me any problems. I’d been going there every day after school, and although the only difference so far was that my body was always sore, I felt like change was coming.
But now, school was closed and my mom wanted me gone, so I had no choice.
My stomach growled, and I tried to remember the last time I’d eaten. It had been a couple days at least. The school offered free lunches for people in need, but my mom didn’t fill out the forms cause, “We don’t need no charity from no damn do-gooders,” so I usually only ate if she remembered to go grocery shopping, or bring something home.
I was thinking I needed to get a job. That way, I could buy food for myself and eat it when she wasn’t around.
“Hey, kid, come here,” a man yelled, but I just started walking faster and turned the corner, then I started running.
“You cold, baby?” one of the women on the corner asked, but I ignored her, too.
Some of these people were nice and tried to help, but I’d met too many of the other kind. The ones who wanted me to sell drugs at school, or suck dick for five bucks, so I’d stopped talking to anyone on these streets.
I’d run about four blocks when I needed to stop and catch my breath. I looked around, trying to figure out where I was. When I recognized the deli, I let out a sigh of relief. This street wasn’t so bad.
I kept walking, making a game out of kicking trash on the sidewalk, when a sound had me looking up and to the left.
A boy about my size was waving at me from behind a dumpster.
At first, I thought about running in the other direction, ‘cause who knew who, or what, was in the alley with that kid, then I heard him ask, “You’re Jericho, right?”
I paused, trying to decide what the smart thing to do was, then shrugged and walked closer to the boy.
“Who’re you?” I asked, looking past him into the alley, relieved when I didn’t see anyone else.
“I’m Hector,” he said, “I’m in your math class.”
I squinted, trying to make him out better in the dark.
“Oh yeah, you sit next to Gunther.”
Hector was pretty new to the school, and was just as quiet as I was, so we’d never really met before.
“Yeah,” he replied with a shrug. “What are you doing out here?”
I mimicked his movement and said, “Just needed to get out of the house for a while. You?”
“Same.”
Just then, my stomach growled again, and I flushed with embarrassment.
“The guy at the deli usually leaves the food he’s gonna throw out just inside the back door, for me and some of the other kids around here. If we don’t eat it, he throws it away, then puts more out the next day. He won’t care if you eat some.”
Hector started walking through the alley, to where I assumed the back door of the deli was, but I stood still watching him, suddenly worried that I’d been wrong to trust him, and it was a trap.
After all, why would a man give food to kids, without wanting something in return.
I watched Hector open the door and disappear for a second, then come back out with a hand full of bread and meat. He walked toward me, holding it out, but I kept my gaze trained on the door.
“It’s legit,” he promised once he was back in front of me. To prove it, Hector put some of the meat in his mouth, chewed and swallowed, then grinned. “See.”
Too hungry to stop, I took the food from his hands and began to eat it as fast as I could.
“Easy,” Hector said. “You’ll get sick if you eat too fast. That’s what happened to me.”
“You live around here?” I asked between bites.
“Yeah, in the bricks,” he said, referring to another apartment complex a couple blocks from mine. “You?”
“Commons,” I replied.
Hector nodded, indicating he knew where that was, then asked, “You want to head down to the park and hang out for a while?”
“Sure,” I said, happy to have a full belly and a new friend.
Little did I know, when I returned home that night, I’d find out that my mom had been arrested and would serve her first stint in jail for soliciting a police officer.