Alleyways

The walk

It's 8:23 at night, and finally cool enough for a walk. I take walks often, I mean really often. Matter-of-fact, I walk all day everyday. The thing is, in the summertime, when you been walkin' all day the way I do it, 8:23 pm...that's the time to walk, walk. So when that time comes that's what I do, even though I was already doin' it...oh you know what I mean. So I start my walks the same every evening. I start off real brisk down Morton street, not really paying attention to much, just walkin'. I told you when 8:23 comes around I'm in cruise control, not really paying attention, just walkin' I told you that. But you've never seen Morton street the way I do. You've never seen plenty of things the way I do, I'm sure bout that, so I'll paint you a picture. Morton street is a clean area for the most part, it's got big concrete and brick houses with orange glowing lights burning in the windows, and wooden fences surround almost every house. The fences keep all the stuff in, the tricycles, the pools, the rollerblades, all the toys and even the trash, all of it. These ain't no puny fences either, believe me I should know. See you can squeeze through the fences at my destination, then once you're in you just keep walkin' and lookin' but make sure you're NEVER seen and NEVER go inside. You just take the stuff the people don't want, squeeze through the fence again, and get to walkin'. Anyway, more of that later, I get side tracked pretty easy, you'll get to know that about me, but I remember now, painting; that's what I was doing for you. Street lights stand at attention at the end of every block on Morton street. Really I don't see the point in the street lights, see 8:23, that's when I start cruisin, but 9:20 or do, that's when the dark comes out, and when the dark comes out the fireflies come out. The fireflies like to swarm and dance in and out of the bushes by the fences, then every other second their butts flicker, that's all the light I need for my walk. Every now and then you pass one or two people walkin toward you carrying a sack or a bag maybe. I always wonder what's inside of them, I might stare for a bit but I never get too close. Most times they try to talk to me or get me to walk with them, but I just keep my head down and move a little quicker until they're out of sight. Anyway these are good streets, no potholes and hardly even an oil stain. It's really nice, and I hate it! You can hear the steady ring of crickets in the distance, or even right beneath you. You can hear the occasional shuffle sound from behind one of those fences I was tellin' you about followed by a bark or a howl maybe. But none of that ever makes me flinch, I just give it right back and keep walkin'. I'm pretty fast for my size, I move quick enough to create a little breeze for myself, but slow enough to see everything in my area, EVERYTHING. I even see colonies of the potty ants along the curb every now and then. Once I get to 23rd and Morton I hit the alleys and I stay there til I make it to Sals Deli. It's not too far, 13 blocks maybe. Once you hit the alleys that cross 28th and Granger street; that's when you're walkin' in my kind of area. You can say good night to the big houses and glowing lights, it gets a little more exciting to weave in and out of the potholes, if they're full of water I usually stomp in them to stir things up a little. And oh yeah, the people, you don't have to worry about them trying to talk to you, on a good night you won't even see any people once you hit Granger. You can still hear the crickets, and by now you're far enough out that you can even hear the frogs groaning. No birds chirping, just how I like it, I hate the birds. But the scenery, the alleyways on the route to Sals, that's true beauty. Like I told you, know more glowing lights and big houses, I told you that. These houses are mostly made of wood, they don't stand up straight and the fences look Ike the smile of an 80 year old man with no money for dentures. That's the way it should be, cause there's no money hear, just stuff and sounds. You can hear a few others diggin' in dumpsters, and muffled arguments about who found what first. Ain't no more street lights here so it's hard to see, but if you're from the area, you can tell who it is by the voice. 32nd and Watts; that's where Sals Deli is, and if you made it this far you made it to the Alleyways. This is my destination, this is home for all of us. Home st last! The first thing I do when I make it here is lick up the dumpster juice or any scraps leftover from whatever tank couldn't fit in his stupid stomach. That's what I usually do, but not today, as soon as I strolled into Sal's alley the first thing I heard was a whimper then I saw a little cloud of dust right by the corner of the dumpster, my lickin' spot. Apparently Tank had just rolled Bumpy over for lickin' the scraps, it's been rough lately. Tank; he's and old grumpy German Sheppard with one eye and a lot of teeth that spends his time lecturing us and causing problems with anyone he runs into, even if they run into him from 2 blocks away. He ain't really German though, I think he just gives himself fancy titles to feel good. Me, I'm a Dachshund it only took me 45 minutes to get here, I'm pretty fast fir my size, I told you that. I go by Dash, cause my breed and cause I'm fast, mostly cause I'm fast. But for the rest of the pack, you got Chief, he's a fat lazy bulldog that used to be a mascot at an elementary school. Whatever that means he's real proud about it and brings it up to get out of stuff. He won't ever go scout cause he was a mascot, can't go on rescues cause he's a mascot, can't run, can't jump can't do anything useful cause he was a mascot. Oh but rescues! That's where the action is, see what happens is the whole pack gets to get her and we find a house, not just any house the big house. But it's not always the same house, it all depends which one it is, it depends on....well I'll get to that later, I get dude tracked easy. I told you that. I remember now, introducing the pack, that's what I was doing.