Chapter Seventeen
The year was 1921. Jackson Gould held his chest tightly as he hoofed up South Wabash Avenue, desperately trying to find his mother’s place of employment. They lived in some cheap apartments several blocks south and the area was quite scary in the dark of night for a boy of just six years of age. But he had to find his mother. It was an emergency. She had told him never to come there but he had no choice. His stomach felt like something was trying to rip it apart from the inside and he needed his mother to tell him what to do. It was just a couple of weeks until summertime so at least the Chicago air wasn’t blanketed in the deep freeze of winter anymore, but it was still scary for such a young child. He had heard gunshots a few times as he lay in bed all alone but had not yet knowingly seen any of these gangsters that all of his friends were talking about.
He slipped and fell on his back as he dodged five black sedans that cut him off, pulling into the Four Deuces. “Jerks,” he muttered in pain as he climbed back to his feet. He went on past a few more buildings until he finally arrived at a four story structure called the Eternal Hunger Café. In the dark of night it was very ominous. Dancing lights from candles shone in most every window, strange cries and screams echoed throughout its walls as organ music poured out from its first floor. The building looked almost hideously alive, as if it was ready to reach out and swallow Jackson if he came any closer. His body trembled with fear now joining the wretched pain already there. His feet moved slowly up the walkway where two pale men in black suits stood menacingly by the door.
“What do you want, kid?” growled one of them.
It was no use hiding his fear as his pants immediately soaked. He coughed and looked at the ground in shame. “I need to see my mother, sir. It’s important.”
The men laughed out loud. “Beat it, punk. This ain’t a place for a kid who can’t even hold his own fluids,” commanded one of them.
“But--” he began but fell over in pain and threw up all over himself.
The men swore at the child and one kicked him. “Get out of here you sick little brat!”
He crawled to his feet. “I need to see her, please!”
One of the men picked up a small rock and threw it at him, nailing him in the shoulder. “Get out of here, I told ya! Your mommy will be home when her back gives out. Now scram!”
Jackson held his chest and stumbled away, crying as they laughed at him and cursed him. He turned into an alleyway and slid down against the wall, pain eating at him like nothing he had ever experienced before. “I just want my mommy, I just want my mommy,” he cried into his arms. “Only she knows what to do.” Suddenly the echo of a woman’s footsteps made Jackson raise his head and look behind him. He saw a tall, shadowy woman coming up the alley. It was dark but she looked like she wore a black coat and boots. Her hair was long and she carried a walking stick. “Who are you?” he managed through his grit teeth.
