He was shouting at me as soon as I went out on the balcony. I was just thinking recently that I rarely see anyone in Nightsity above street level. And then here he was, just standing over there, a sticky outy thumb situation.
“Hey mo- f-cker! Do me a big big favor and bring over my clothes to me! Right over there!” I can make out the distant man pointing somewhere to my right. I pause, wondering if I should even reply to this obviously somewhat insane person across the way. Like I’m going to deliver anything, let’s see, 5 stories up to a strange apartment in a building on one of the most dangerous streets in Kabusie; *knew* I shouldn’t have come here and do some exploring today. But then I spot them hanging off a balcony about 3 stories down on my side of the street, barely visible from around a corner. At least he wasn’t lying about the garments. But, heck, they’re probably not his anyway.
“My clothes my clothes!” he pressed before I could exit the balcony and withdraw back into the depths of my own building. “I *know* you can see them from there — I guess! There’s a shirt, then another shirt and then 2 pairs of pants hanging behind the shirts, and, most important, my *dress* in the middle! My red mo- f-cking dress I *just* bought at the pawn shop… I mean, er, J.C. Ponney’s! That’s what I need to wear *tonight*!”
“I-I can’t help you!” I decided to give him. “Sorry!” I tacked on.
“Aw maan!” I see him flip his arms at me in disgust. “I can’t go back in there, maan!” There was true grief in his voice now; maybe he was even weeping a bit too? “The old lady… she…!” He paused. So I guessed what he was going to say.
“Kicked you out?!” I imagine him slapping her in the face. Or worse.
“No no, maan! You got it all wrong! *All* wrong!” But he still wouldn’t tell me what happened. He started pacing back and forth back and forth on his narrow perch, hands to his face. Yeah, he definitely appeared to be weeping now.
“Alright!” I decided to say for some God awful reason, perhaps coming from the same warped curiosity that brought me to this area in the first place today. “I’ll go down there and knock on the door and see if anyone is home — ask about the clothes!”
“Oh, man! Would you do that for me?! That would be awesome, mo- f-cker! Just don’t mention *Terrance*!”
I assumed Terrance was his own name but it turned out to be his son’s. And it wasn’t him that hit her but the opposite way around. We all kind of became friends after that, me and the father and his son from another mother. And he sure did look mighty pretty in that red dress he wore to the mayor’s ball that very night, smiles all around. TBC?
Sunklands 