“Look, little Sissy wet his pants!”
Kenny garnered laughs from the rest of his entourage
as Steven, two years younger and small for his age, crab-walked away from
the group after being shoved to the ground. He hadn’t really wet his pants,
but had landed in a mud puddle big enough
to wet them for him.
This was the third or fourth time this week, maybe the tenth
time this month Kenny had decided to pick on him, and by his
calculations, twice as many times as his friend
Elliott. Steven figured it was because he wore glasses and read books and
was smarter than them. So far, he hadn’t experienced any broken bones, just
bruises to his body and further degradation of his social status. Come to think
of it, he was already not-popular, so it'd be difficult to be more "not-popular."
“Don’t forget your books, Nerd!” said the pompous
bully as he threw Steven’s backpack into the mud after thoughtfully opening it
and shaking the contents out onto the ground.
Luckily, school was out,
so Steven didn’t have to spend the whole day in soiled clothes. His
Mom wouldn’t be able to bring him any new ones (she worked Monday through
Thursday) and his dad would tell him to stick up for himself and teach Kenny a
lesson.
The bullies took off to their next hell-raising mission
leaving Steven to collect his things
and walk home. Steven had always thought
of school as a refuge, but lately it had been miserable, a place of
fear. But what could he do? It wasn’t like he was going to
gain forty pounds of muscle and beat Kenny’s ass. He probably
couldn’t even beat Elliott’s ass.
As he walked home, he was certain he wouldn’t receive a
second beating. Kenny liked to move on after one, save up for a good one
tomorrow.
The walk was about fifteen blocks. Steven,
like most of the kids in the Shady Grove area, skirted
around downtown, partly because their parents told them to,
and partly because of the lore.
Broken Bottle Alley was situated between
Fourth and Fifth streets. The rows of brick
buildings downtown were all adjoined, making for very long alleys
behind them. But unlike the popular shops on First Street, as you got further
back, to Fouth and Fifth and Sixth, the storefronts were
abandoned. Broken Bottle Alley got its name from
teenage kids who would drive by and throw empty bottles of pop,
or beer, down the alley at the bad guys who supposedly
lived there: murderers and rapers and other insane criminals.
Besides having broken glass everywhere, the alley was
dark and narrow. Less than eight feet wide. Even light was scared to go into
that alley.
And the reputation was not just rumor. Police had found
eleven people murdered in or near the Alley in the past five
years.
It was worth the extra ten minutes or so to avoid the area
and stay on the tree-lined residential streets surrounding downtown.
---
Kenny was having a good day. After moving to this
po-dunk town from Detroit, he had already made a name for himself. Back in the
D, he was the one getting tossed, but here kids were naturally weaker and he
was the alpha dogg. He had a crew that wanted to hang with him and listen to
his tales of livin’ in the big city.
He didn’t like that smart-ass Steven one bit. It’s
like he knew shit, not just book shit. It’s like he saw
through Kenny with those thick, black-rimmed glasses. And it was good
to outweigh him by thirty pounds and push him around.
Keeping Steven in line was vital to maintaining his new persona.
Kenny’s mom relocated to work at the shoe factory,and had
picked up a second shift at Burger King most nights, which left a lot of free
time to screw around and not do homework. He thought about
getting that dick Steven to do his homework,
but Kenny preferred to keep his relationship
with Steven less professional.
Kenny asked his gang, “What’s there to
do around this dump?”
“Dunno,” said this one dopey-looking
white kid. “Sometimes we skate.” Others nodded.
“Yeah, I don’t do that.” Kenny never learned
to skate and didn’t own a board.
“We could go down to the park and skip stones and just hang
out,” said this other kid who was wearing an old-ass
concert t-shirt he probably stole from his dad’s closet.
“Maaaaann…” Kenny was getting
frustrated. "That’s BABY shit. What do the high
school kids do for fun? And don’t tell me homework or volunteer work
or some shit we don’t wanna do.”
A fat kid called T-bone, short for something
worse, like Thomas or Theodore, said, “My older brother and his friends
break bottles at Broken Bottle Alley.”
“Sounds like more skipping stones.
This shit sounds lame.”
The other kids looked at each
other. Kenny noticed. “What?”
T-bone continued, “Broken Bottle Alley is
like one of the most dangerous places in the whole country. It’s haunted… a-and
lots of people have died there.” The other kids shook their
heads vigorously.
“Well, I’m not scared. In Detroit, we got hundreds of
alleys full of drug dealers and gang bangers. Can’t be nothin’ like
that. Let’s go check it out.”
None of the kids wanted to tell him no, so they
made up excuses about feeding their dogs and sick Moms and fake errands they
had to run. One by one they took off and Kenny was alone. This
alley full of broken bottles sounded a little promising, but it would
have to wait.
----
The weekend bell rang and Steven stayed at his
desk while the rest of the kids blew out of the classroom and into
the hall. Waiting Kenny out might be smart. Or was
blending in with the crowd smart? Too late. Go with plan A.
He sat in class an extra hour, drawing pictures of
superheroes. Steven wished he was a superhero. First thing he’d do
was to kick Kenny’s ass, but then he would clean up the town, including Broken
Bottle Alley. He thought people shouldn’t live in fear and if the police
weren’t going to do it, someone should.
After peeking into the hall and not seeing anyone, he walked
out the rear of the school. Kenny would be expecting him to exit out
the front, closest to his house. He sprinted across the playground
and into the neighborhood behind before turning toward his house. After
five blocks, he figured he was home-free. No sign of Kenny... maybe
they had gone on about their business.
He passed the park eight blocks down and was about
to turn onto Sixteenth when he heard, “There he is! Get him!” And a
flock of Kenny’s subordinates charged across the
street. Steven didn’t even try to run.
T-bone grabbed Steven’s backpack and gave it
to Kenny. “Doing some extra homework after school,
Stevie?” Kenny looked through his folder and saw the
drawings. “Superheroes don’t exist, dickhead.
But Supervillians do.” And he punched Steven in the
gut.
Steven fought back tears and held his stomach, which
felt like it had ruptured. He said, “You’re just a bully. The
real Supervillians are in Broken Bottle Alley. You should go and
never come back.”
Kenny thought, twice in two days...
this place sounds more and more dope. “Ya know... I’m gonna
take your advice… let’s go... all of us.” Then to T-bone, “Where’d
you say this place was?”
“Um, it’s between Fourth and Fifth Street, over by
the Burger King, but about four blocks past.”
“Let’s go check it out. Unless you guys are too scared.”
Steven spoke up. “Give me my backpack.”
“’Give me my backpack, give me
my backpack.’ The baby wants his backpack. I think I’ll take it
with us.” And Kenny took off toward Burger King.
Steven did not want to go. He could tell his Mom he
lost his backpack, but she would never believe him. Or tell
her Kenny took it. But… if Dad found out he’d be mad
at Steven for not standing up for himself. So he followed the other
boys at a distance. Maybe after Kenny got murdered he’d get
his backpack back from the police.
---
Kenny liked Burger King.
The Whopper here tasted just like the Whopper in Detroit,
which was one of the few things that was the same. And if he showed these kids
he wasn’t afraid of their stupid babytown alley, he’d earn even more
street cred. He turned to wave Steven’s backpack at him. “Come
and get it, Sissy. It’ll be waitin’ for you in the alley.”
As they crossed over to the deteriorated downtown area from
the BK at Fourth and Elm, the shadows were growing and most of
the shopkeepers had already closed their doors for the night. A few vagrants
hung around, slow-moving like zombies.
“Which way now?” Kenny called out.
“Um, it’s about three blocks ahead.” They were walking
down Fourth Street, where even this close to Elm, the buildings
were abandoned. Many of the store owners had moved to the new strip malls on
the outskirts of town. There was talk of tearing down the “historic
district” and replacing it with a park or a mall, but no one wanted to pay
for it.
Steven lagged a block behind the bully gang, keeping
sight of his backpack and already feeling dread. His Mom didn’t want him
anywhere near this part of town. Not even to go to Burger King unless he
was with an adult.
The boys with Kenny were
also trying to be brave, but they were in unfamiliar territory. Never
a reason to go into this area, just Kenny being macho and each one of
them trying not to be the next Steven.
As the seven boys crossed Fillmore and then
Green they were alone. Cars passed a few blocks away, but here, there were no
people, not even bums. At the corner of Fourth and Hemingway, the pack
stopped. Steven crossed the street, keeping his backpack still
in sight.
“So where’s this
scary alley at?” Kenny asked.
“Over there,” pointed the concert t-shirt kid.
It didn’t look like no alley Kenny ever
saw... more like a crawlspace between two
buildings. Kenny thought, nothing but rats would be in
an alley like this.
He walked across Hemingway and over to
the alley while the other kids hung back, half expecting something to
jump out of the alley and eat Kenny. But nothing
did. Kenny stopped at the edge of the alley and peered down
the long, narrow corridor. He had trouble seeing, due to the heavy shadows,
except for a sliver of light at the far end, a football-field away.
The alley was a little wider than what he thought
from across the street. Maybe seven or eight feet across, so
murderers could be down there… but nothing was moving,
so probably not. The floor of the alley was littered
with broken bottles... a shit-ton of them, more than he ever saw before. To the
rest of the gang he shouted, “What’s the big deal? I’m gonna throw this
dufus’s bag in the middle for the rats to eat.” Seeing Steven
cross Hemingway, but still a block away, he called out, ”Hey, Dufus. Your bag’s
goin’ into the Alley.”
---
As Kenny crossed over to the Alley,
Steven’s first impulse was to turn around and go home. He could get
another bag, and books... they had to have
more books at school, just in case, right? But then he
thought, time to break the cycle. Stand up to Kenny, get his
backpack back. But that alley… those murders… He reasoned he could go
further than the scaredy-cat gang who stopped at the corner across Fourth,
so he crossed Hemingway, and was now on the same side as Kenny.
Just Kenny and him.
Kenny was acting like he was going to throw the bag
into the Alley. He swung it with exaggerated movements, like it was going
to go really far, but he never let go. Steven didn’t
realize he was walking, but he had already crossed Fourth and
was headed up the sidewalk toward Kenny.
When he was only ten feet
away, Kenny released Steven’s backpack and it sailed into the
abyss.
Kenny showed his hands were now empty and
shrugged, “What? Guess you’re gonna have to go get it.” He pointed to
the alley with both fingers. “Unless you’re scared.”
At this point, Steven was more scared of
getting murdered in the alley by Kenny than of
anything already in there. Or beaten within an inch of his life and
left to be murdered by someone else. But what Steven said
shocked even himself. “You THREW it in there so you wouldn’t have to go
in! YOU’RE the one who's scared!”
The boys across the street
murmured, “Uh, oh,” and, “Oh, snap…”
“Yeah? You stupid shit. I’ll go in
there right now and I’m gonna piss on your backpack in the
middle of the alley and let the rats eat your stupid books
and your stupid drawings.” And Kenny ran into
the alley.
"Oh, Stee-vie…I got your boo-ooks…Come an’ get
‘em…” he taunted, all echoey, and Steven peered around the
corner to see Kenny with his backpack only about twenty
feet away. Then Kenny jogged further down the alley. But after
about seven or eight steps, Kenny tripped on something and went down
and shrieked like a little girl.
Kenny had put his hands out to brace
his fall and sliced them open on broken glass. His palms
were gushing blood, and had jagged shards in them, as well as in
his knees and forearms.
Steven couldn’t see what happened, but did watch
his backpack fall free, and thought he could
dash around the howling Kenny, grab it, and escape.
He ran toward Kenny and as he was almost by him, Kenny tripped Steven who
went down and got his own dose
of broken glass. Steven screamed bloody murder as his hands
and knees were lacerated.
The gang across the street heard both boys’ cries
start and end abruptly after entering the Alley and they didn’t wait to find
out what it was. Obviously, they had been attacked, and perhaps fatally. They
hightailed it down Fourth and ran home as fast as they could, saying
things like, “What the hell was that?” and “I don’t know. Keep
running.”
---
Kenny and Steven were both nursing
their wounds. Kenny spoke first. “Thanks a lot you fuck, now I’m
bleeding all over myself.”
Steven, always analytical, said, “Dude. You started it.
I didn’t make you steal my backpack. Or run into this alley so we
could both get cut up. I got at least ten of these glass
pieces in me.”
“That all? Shit, man, I got twenty, and I can’t even
see ‘em all in here. It’s dark as shit.”
After a minute, Steven pronounced, “Hey.
At least there’s no monsters in here. Maybe we should tell
those guys there were when we come out of here all
bloody.” He showed his crimson palms and wiped some blood on his face.
Kenny thought about it. This kid was braver than any of
those guys that were hanging with him. He started to
nod. “Yeah... I guess we’re the monsters now…” and
he made his hands into claws, half human and half glinting
glass shards. "We can tell those dicks we fought off some attackers
and this ain’t nothin’ compared to what them other guys got.”
Steven wasn’t sure what to say next. So he
tried, “You gonna stop beating me up every day?”
“I dunno... I’ll think about it, but
I guess you’re all right. Don’t tell anyone, or I’ll beat your face
in. And your drawings... pretty sick... I used to draw superheroes in sixth,
too. Let’s bounce. I really don’t like this place.”
---
Kenny and Steven, with backpack devoid of piss,
walked back the way they came, stepping around the glass, best they
could, toward the street ahead. Dusk had turned into
darkness and the illumination from the street was a muted gray.
At thirty yards from the entry, a figure appeared in
the gray opening. A grown man, six feet, or taller, with what looked
like a top hat and overcoat? Or was it a cape?
Kenny and Steven saw the man at the same time
and stopped.
The man stepped into the alley, blocking all the light
behind him. He started marching toward the kids. Arms outstretched,
he touched the walls on both sides of the alley and picked up his
pace. Dragging his fingertips of what? Metal? He
made sparks as he strode toward the boys.
The boys, who were backing away, turned and
ran toward Jackson St. at the other end of the alley,
unfathomably far away. They were trying their best to not trip, but in the
darkness of the alley the were blind. The screech of
the half-man, half-monster’s fingertips grew louder. He was
advancing on them.
Just past the halfway point, a second figure appeared,
looking much like the other and blocking their escape. He propelled
himself toward the two boys with more speed than the first,
not touching the alley floor, using only the walls.
The boys became transfixed, not knowing how
to escape or which monster would devour them first. Their hearts were
beating out of their chest as the two demons
got closer and closer. They dropped to their knees in fear and
shielded themselves with their bloody hands.
In the almost complete darkness, the second being overtook
the boys and launched itself at the original supervillain.
The boys were unable to breathe as the air filled with sulfur and
smoke.
Kenny grabbed Steven's shirt and pulled him away from
the battling men. They took flight toward what they hoped
was Jackson Street, high-stepping through the glass. They emerged
onto the street as the fight echoed after them.
Kenny shoved Steven in
the direction of First street and said, 'Run!"
They passed Fourth, then Third, Second, and out of breath
reached the corner of Jackson and First. A barber was closing his
shop. A woman walked her dog across the street. They looked
back, half expecting the monstrous men to be following, here, in the
real world. Only an empty street.
They turned back toward First. Past
the dog walking lady was the Police station.
Steven asked. "Should we report it?"
"Dude, they'll never believe us. No
one will ever believe us."
Steven agreed. "Think we're safe?"
"Yeah. I think those things can only live in the
Alley." Kenny paused. "And, yeah, I'll leave you
alone. We're good."