She Will Persist

Origins pt. 1

I hit the concrete hard.

I just managed to save my forehead from bashing into the ground by landing on my chest with my arms beneath me, but my skin still raked against the cement.

No sooner had they thrown me to the ground of the alleyway did the four gangster minions yank me back up again and started socking me in the gut.

I doubled over as two took turns pounding me again and again while the other two held me up.

"Still think you're quick you little shit?" One snarled in my face. I could barely make out his appearance through my rapidly blackening vision but the slight Italian accent made it clear this was the Calabrese gang. He punched me in the eye.

"Think you can fuck with our run and get away with it boy?" They threw me to the ground again and I landed on my side. They all took turns kicking my back and stomach several times each and I desperately curled into a ball with my hands over my head like I was taught. Sirens wailed distantly, it might have been close and my hearing was just shot but I doubted it. The police probably were looking for the Calabreses, just not beating up some nameless 12 year-old boy in a back alley.

I laid on my back on the damp concrete for a while after they left, the blood that was leaking from my nose and mouth starting to drip onto the ground. Eventually I managed to turn onto my side with a groan and start to flex my limbs again to see if anything was seriously broken.

The pain in my wrists was the worst, but all ten fingers worked.

I call that a win.

I struggled to my feet with another groan and limped over to the dumpster that was tucked between the two buildings on either side of me. It was also damp, but not with rain. Some kind of sticky thing that smelled distinctly like urine and rotten meat. I rested my forearms on the lid and blinked most of my headache away, then wiped my face the best I could with the hem of my shirt. The stretched black fabric came away stained even darker with blood.

It was 7am. It was also Sunday though so most shops opened later, which meant owners wouldn't be around for another few hours. I could still make it to a couple and try and find some food or pawnable goods.

But as soon as I let go of the dumpster my left ankle gave out and I fell. The rocky ground cut up my forearms as I landed. With a sigh I painfully got to my feet once again and began limping home. Mrs. Lawrence would be very disappointed in me if I didn't come straight home while I was in this state anyway, and I was in no shape to flee. I could already hear her scolding at me in her deep cocaine-induced voice.

Not one of the bustling Chicago civilians gave me a second glance as me and my bruises and cuts made our way up Grand Ave to good old St. Clair. After the second block my ankle got it together a little more and I stopped limping as much.

I reached the home alleyway and gave Penny Boy's gloved fist a bump as I passed his guard spot.

He squinted his good eye at me through the tangles of his long, greasy grey hair. "Tough mornin' kid?" He said in his raspy voice.

"Coulda been worse. I'm okay."

"Atta boy," he winked. Well, blinked. Penny Boy's left eye had been a shimmery milky white ever since I could remember and I don't think I've ever actually seen it close. "Tell Simon he owe me dinner when you up. And toss down a cig, will you?"

"Sure thing PB."

I pulled myself on top of the familier dumpster, this one smelling more like urine and sweet and sour sauce, and began climbing up the black steel fire escape ladder of the Dragonfly hotel.