Jim had insisted on driving the two kids home. It was late and Alanah was carrying a large sum of money on her. “Just wait until Amir and Robin can show their dad the wages they earned and their big bonus.” Alanah said while smiling. Amos and Jim both laughed at this, good outcomes were few and far between for most people, so it was a luxury to be able to celebrate them when they occurred. When they pulled up to Alanah’s building Amos felt a knot in his stomach, and it was suddenly hard to swallow. He was not sure what to say next and he just sat there in the middle of the front seat of Jim’s old truck with Alanah sitting stiffly beside him.

  The seconds while the truck sat there idling seemed to drag on and on when Jim saved the day. “Amos’s got a shooter for you. It’s an old one but it is a good one. He says he’s got a spot to practice so I think you should take him up on that. Especially if the thugs in North Boston might be looking for ya.” “I…...” Alanah paused with her hand on the door handle and then smiled “would love that, when can we start?”

  The two friends drove away, Jim was telling Amos the merits of each type of holster one could use to safely and discreetly carry a gun, and Amos was half listening while thinking about meeting Alanah in two days’ time. They had chosen the diner he liked to frequent, not because the food was anything special but because it was the farthest from North Boston and Giorgio’s restaurant.

  When Jim dropped Amos off, he warned him. “Don’t go back to that restaurant, not even to look around.” He looked very sternly at Amos “don’t give in to the temptation to have a look, they will be watching anyone and everyone that comes nearby. Stay away and stay alive, remember that.”

  That last warning echoed in Amos’s mind Stay away and stay alive. Simple enough but the bigger implication was not lost on Amos. He had made an enemy, the kind of enemy which automatically meant that he now had dozens and dozens of enemies who would want to punish the kid who embarrassed the Boston ‘Ndrangheta. Punish…hah….it would be worse than that. It did not take much creativity for Amos to realize what the final outcome would be for him if they caught him.

  His Dad used to joke about concrete shoes and a one-way boat ride for those that ran afoul of the Boston mob. Making concrete weights just to drown someone had seemed absurd at the time but it did not seem like such a far-fetched idea now. He would have to watch every step he made now and for the foreseeable future.

  The next two days passed by quite slowly; Amos watched at the window of his apartment trying to catch when Filthy Phil might rob another apartment. Twice he thought he had an opportunity, but Mr. Phil went up to another floor and Amos was not ready to follow him on these floors. Why don’t you prepare all the air return grills so that if and when you need to, you can gain access?

  It was a simple enough precaution, and it might be helpful or even necessary and it gave him something to do. Unfortunately, Mr. Phil did not try to enter any other unattended apartments after that, so Amos passed the time reading and then stocking up on some supplies.

  On the way home from the grocery store while carrying his beaten-up old bag Amos heard footsteps fall in behind him. It was still light enough to use the reflections in the shop windows to see who was following him. He had picked up a large hulking teenager and a smaller accomplice who were quickly catching up with him. Amos watched the larger boy take a last swig from the glass pop bottle he was holding and then reverse it in his hand and raise it up in his fist ready to strike.

  Oh no you don’t, you better not even try… Amos gauged the distance between him and the larger boy in the next shop window and then spun around pulling his baton up and out at the same time. The larger boy slowed down almost to a stop and his arm with the bottle hesitated in midair, he seemed unsure whether to hide the crude weapon or to complete his attack.

  KRAAASSSH. The bottle exploded into a shower of glass fragments that the larger boy managed to twist away from just in time. As he brought the baton back, he clipped the big shoulder just behind the arm with the end of the baton hitting the flesh with a swift glancing blow. The big teenager howled in pain and grasped his arm. The smaller boy had come to a stop and was now slowly retreating, eyes wide with shock. “Are we done then?” asked Amos as he collapsed the baton back into the handle and then, sensing that they were indeed done, he spun round in a half circle and continued on his way.

  Two hours to go. Amos sat at the window, bored and restless, waiting until it was time to meet Alanah at the diner. He ate his cheese sandwich slowly and watched out the window as people passed by on the sidewalk and sometimes came and went from the building. It was a lovely spring day. The sky was clear, the sun was shining, and the trees were looking their best. Soon the hot summer days would take a toll on the leafy branches but for now, everything looked healthy and green.

  “Leave me alone woman, I don’t know what you are on about.” Filthy Phil’s loud, heavily accented voice boomed out across the front of the building. He had come crashing out the door and he was trying to make his way to the sidewalk but was having a hard time because he was also trying to walk and shout over his shoulder at someone behind him.

  ?Esto es el colmo!” Do you hear me?” It was Mrs. Garcia; she had come bustling out of the building and was following Mr. Phil along with a couple of the other residents in tow behind her. “No mas” She shouted at the back of the landlord who was striding away quickly. “We know it is you who is taking our things; we are watching you now. ?Esto es el colmo!.” She turned and gave her head a shake and started talking in an animated fashion with the other residents, but it was harder for Amos to hear what she was saying now.

  It did not matter, it’s obvious that they know he has been stealing from them, I wonder just how long he has been doing this. He watched them go back inside. Amos thought that they would be angrier, but they weren’t. Mrs. Garcia had stopped waving her hands and her shoulders and arms had become limp and lifeless against her sides as she shuffled back inside the building behind the others. They looked defeated as they disappeared from view. They must feel totally helpless, he thought to himself he is the boss in this building and he is just preying on them, and they know that they can’t do anything about it.

  For the rest of the time until he had to go Amos sat deep in thought. He wanted to help the residents of his building but he had no idea how. As soon as Filthy Phil got any idea that Amos was around the building, he was sure that the landlord would check his unit and then break his way in as soon as he discovered that the new lock had been switched. I need to get to a safe spot soon, somewhere that no one can mess with me. The problem was that Amos was still a kid and even if he could afford it, no one was going to rent to him. He would have to make his own space somewhere, but he did not quite know how to go about it.

  Stolen content alert: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.

  After another slow thirty minutes, it was almost time to go meet Alanah, Amos left early and arrived early. His mood had brightened considerably once he arrived at the diner knowing that Alanah would soon be there. He ordered coffee. Something adults always seemed to drink and enjoy, his plan was to drink it as well so that he would appear older than he was. He took his first sip and his reaction was both immediate and genuine. Blech…. yuck…what a vile drink this is, how do people choke this down! Amos pushed the cup aside. He decided that he could look just as old with that cup of steaming sewer water just sitting there on the table. He did not need to touch it or God forbid, drink it again.

  He waited patiently, then while fidgeting impatiently but Alanah still did not come. After an hour came and went, along with a slice of pie and a glass of milk to keep the waitress happy, Amos had to give up. As he walked home, he tried to replay every word of their last conversation as she had gotten out of the truck. He was certain that they had agreed to meet today and that he had been correct about the time, but she had not come. The rest of the evening he spent worrying that something bad had happened to her.

  Has Giorgio tracked her down already? Was she hurt or captured? Amos slept poorly that night and had no appetite the next morning. For lack of a better option, he decided to return to the diner at the same time in hopes that she had gotten the date wrong but to no avail. After another slice of pie that he barely touched and a glass of milk that now sat warm and unfinished on the counter Amos got up and left the diner alone once again.

  Instead of going home he decided to visit Jim. It was later than he preferred to be out walking the streets alone and he felt pretty distracted with his fears of Alanah running through his head, so he opted to wait for a bus and take it slow and easy getting to Jim’s store. He felt better once he was inside the now familiar space and he even managed to crack a smile once he had Jim laughing heartily at his description of what he thought coffee tasted like.

  “Seriously, that has to be one of the worst things I have ever tasted, how does anyone want to pay for this or have it first thing in the morning?” “It’s something you get used to I guess” Jim smiled and then looked down at his hands “it’s part of being an adult, you just get used to things is all.” “Now, your missing friend here, what are you fixin to do about it?”

  Amos looked up with some surprise, he did not think he could do much about it and he looked at Jim with a questioning look. “I thought you were an enterprising young fellow.” Jim held his hands out as if to indicate that the answer was obvious. “Stop feeling sorry for yourself and go and see if you can spot her at her building or find out what apartment she is in. Someone there will eventually tell you what you want to know, you just have to make it happen.”

  Of course, why am I just sitting around waiting for something to happen. If I need to find Alanah, then I should start with her building. Feeling much more optimistic, Amos said a brief goodbye and started out the door. “Hold on a minute, hold on.” Jim held up his hand, it was getting late, she won’t be coming out tonight and not many folks are wanting to talk to a stranger at night. Best to try first thing tomorrow.” Amos was reluctant to stay but he knew that Jim was right, going now would be futile and just dangerous for himself.

  He elected to stay, and they played several hands of cards until Jim drove him back to his building a few hours later. Amos had not gotten the answer he was looking for but at least now he felt like he could start looking for it.

  “No, I don’t know who you mean.” “I haven’t seen anyone like that living here.” “I wouldn’t tell you if I had seen her or not, no tellin what someone is after these days now go on, you’re not welcome here anyways.”

  Don’t give up, you only care about the one who knows something. Who cares about the rest? Amos has been canvassing anyone that had come into or out of Alanah’s building asking them if they had seen her lately or if they knew what apartment hers was. He hadn’t had any success, even during the morning hours many people did not want to speak with him and did their best to avoid making eye contact as they hurried past him to get away to go about their business.

  It had been just over two hours when a tall, thin-faced woman with dark hair pulled back in a severe bun came into the lobby. She stopped short of the door, adjusted her jacket, the bag she was holding and checked all of her pockets to make sure they were fastened tight. Once she was satisfied that she was not going to expose herself to any undue risk from petty thieves or bag snatchers she headed toward the door holding her brown shoulder bag tight against the front of her black raincoat. Amos waited until she was a few steps away from the front door and then he approached her slowly while calling for her attention.

  “Excuse me mam…… hello mam….please…just a moment please…. I am trying to find my friend; can you help me?” The woman had quickened her pace when he had started speaking and at the same time, tightened her grip on her bag while looking straight ahead, her eyes fixed forward and her lips pursed tightly together. “Please…. can you help me?” Amos called out as she walked away from him. “Her name is Alanah and she lives in this building.”

  At the mention of the name Alanah the woman had visibly stiffened and then shuddered which caused her to break her stride. She briefly paused before deciding to turn and face the person that had so suddenly and abruptly shaken her to a stop.

  The stern looking woman glaring at Amos was Hazel Jensen and she indeed knew of Alanah and where she lived. Hazel was Alanah’s aunt. She had been forced by circumstance and a sense of duty to take in her daughter’s only child and she had immediately resented the imposition on her space and her lifestyle. Times were tough enough without having to fend for a teenage girl.

  Hazel had never liked her brother-in-law and she blamed him for all that had gone wrong with her sister’s family and in her mind, Alanah was one of the many things that had gone wrong.

  “What do you want with her?” She barked while walking briskly toward Amos. Hazel was doing her best to use her height and her voice to intimidate Amos. This often worked on street kids if you acted promptly and forcefully but she could see by Amos’s lack of fear that he was not going to back down. Just as Amos was going to speak Hazel interrupted him “Never mind …. I am sure it is no good anyways. Alanah got to be too much for me so she has been sent to relatives out of town. She WON’T be coming back.”

  That last comment struck the blow that Hazel had been hoping for and while Amos stood there looking stunned, she shifted her direction and veered back toward the front door of the building with her key at the ready. Within just a few seconds she was through the door and marching back through the lobby.

  Get the door, move move move. Amos turned and tried to follow the older woman through the door but he had reacted far too late to catch the door. It clicked shut with a heavy clunk and he stood there with his hand on a handle that would not budge as he watched Alanah’s aunt disappear into the elevator. His heart sank, had Alanah really been sent away so suddenly? It was possible if somehow the aunt had found out what had happened at the restaurant. Perhaps Alanah had told her aunt and she had misjudged how her aunt would react?

  It all seemed plausible and far too likely to have happened. As he stared at the solid elevator door through which his faint hope of finding Alanah had disappeared, he noticed that suddenly the number four lit up above the door. He craned his neck for a closer look. Numbers two through six were listed above the door and number four was still lit up. That’s it, they must live on the fourth floor or at least she did….

  Amos replayed the interaction with the aunt in his head again and again. It seemed a bit off. If Alanah was really sent away then why did she rush back immediately to the apartment, especially if she was just leaving to go out before I spoke to her? It did not make sense to Amos, the more he thought about it, the more likely it seemed that she had lied to him just to send him away and then she had returned to the apartment to do what exactly? Amos did not know but he knew that he was going to find out somehow and that it would happen soon.