The Past - Part 1

A buick rounded the corner onto Harbor Way, roaring between miss-fired engine strokes passing Chanslor Ave-- bottoming out in the alley across from St. Mark's Hall.

Jared lurched the car into park, launching the boys across the dashboard and cracked leather interior. He grinned at Cole beside him: "What?" Chris laughed from the backseat as John rapidly picked out his flattened hairdo. Rust cratered doors slammed behind Jared as he strode out into Richmond California's purpling night, adjusting his polyester ensemble. Rubbing a hand around his beard, Jared watched as a group of girls hustled across the street and joined the line packing into the hall: "Let's get laid boys."

Drums rummed off the linoleum-white walls, warm like the yellow light-bulbs inside, it bounced into the street. Jared smirked as he caught Cole dipping his walk to the beat. Pushing past some white folks shuffling around the door, the boys slipped into the dance hall.

Jared and Chris gave the fat doorman two dollars they earned working the concrete plant. Cole gave $2 he got resurfacing highways, John paid with money he filched from his lady the night before. "Put on your dancin shoes baby 'cause this' pretty fast." The accordion hit on, and Jared swaggered across the floor-- starting to bop up his shoulders in 2/4 time. When catching his eye-- and reaching his arm round a slim girl dancing to herself, Jared spun off with her across the wood floor.

--His tonight

Humming to himself, Cole eyed a young girl from behind-- John got a woman six times his size out the back door-- Chris sat in the men's room swearing it was something he ate. Jared to the beat slid round his girl, taking her hand and dipped through frantic spins-- pulling her closer. With big white eyes she smiled up, hooking her hips in fast circles to the music-- her skirt tossing around Jared's polyester pant legs.

The band stopped and started, then started again faster, as dancers packed it in tighter.



Set between streetlamps, three men sat alone-- perched on the curb. John's face beamed behind a cigarette as he told Cole about what sorts of things you can fit in a back-alley. Chris clutched over his stomach muttering. They waited. Maybe an hour, or a few.
Then they started the walk home.