Thank God for the distraction of writing but, mostly, reading!
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There are two distinct worlds in Chicago’s Lincoln
Park neighborhood; the beautifully maintained brownstones and three flats of
the street fronts, and the alleyways that exist almost secretly behind them.
Alleys have their own eco-system it seems; even
their own terrain with mountains of trash, ruts and potholes big enough to
warrant Jeep Wranglers. ANIMALS, People, Smells.
I’ll bet it’s a different world than most of us
know. Yet, I do because I lived on an alley for eight years.
Things happen daily in alleys.
Then there’s THINGS THAT HAPPEN in alleys.
I’ve seen lovers locked and been that lover. One felt slightly intrusive, the other steamy on a cold winter’s night.
Muggings were seen, and heard, from my bedroom
window; Fights, both domestic and drunken brawls.
People waited for you to empty your dinner’s trash
with hopes of something decent to eat so, most often, you'd bring a full paper
plate out instead.
Cars driven in nearly foot deep ice ruts with no
choice but to do a sliding sideswipe of a passing vehicle. Been there, done
that. Oops!
I’ve witnessed a garbage bag filled with clothes
intended for the Laundromat disappear from the apartment to discover moments
later it was mistakenly dumped in the alley as trash but reconciled
the anger immediately as somebody needier finally had baby clothes.
There was a late night standoff in cars when all I
wanted was to turn into my parking spot and another refused, mid-block, to back
up ten feet. I’m stubborn; we sat for 20 minutes, me signaling him to please
back up and receiving “the finger” in return. Not my brightest moment but DIDN’T
move either!
Have you ever seen rats the size of toddlers (not
quite that big but BIGGER than you could ever imagine) with beady red eyes
staring you down?
But…
The worst thing I ever saw was a boy dressed up as
a girl earning money the only way he knew how because he, surely, was
desperate.
