_{The Streets of South Philly - January 3rd}

Cars passing by. The reflection of tail lights hover a moment, suspended by the darkness, before trailing off. The odd street lamp holds a slight glow upon the surrounding area. The sound of rain drops on the pavement and the splash of built up water mixed with mud, tossed about by the churning wheels. Cars passing by.

I like it. Dark. Wet. Somewhat Seedy. The broad street is alive by the pulsing beat of the people. Some coming. Most going.

A car pulls up. The sound of the engine dies off as the car comes to a halt. Lights off. The door opens and out steps a man and his wife. Well dressed. Both out for a night on the town. The laughter of the women arouses a sense in me. I like a good broad. A pleasing gift from my fathers genetic pool. I smile. They pull their jackets tighter. Collars up. He puts his arm around her and pulls her closer as they meet on the sidewalk. Laughing. Happy to be together. Happy to be in the moment. They fade off into the distance as they make down the pavement and away from me.

I cough as the smoke tickles my lungs. New to this. Cigars are for the big boys. And I want to be one. So I smoke and cough yet my age is ever present. I lean back against the shop front. Which shop. I take a peak back at the window as curiosity gets the better of me. Some coffee shop. Too dark to read the sign printed on the window. Not here for that anyway. I flick at the cigar. Ash drops on the sidewalk as the sound of more cars fills my ears. Cars passing by. Some people coming. Some going.

Movement. My legs are telling me they need a rest. So I slide my stance. My legs thank me. Only momentarily. It’s always that way when they’ve had enough. Fuck. The cigar falls onto the sidewalk. Not my intention. My head shakes side to side as disappointment captures me for a moment. Fuck! I stamp it out and kick it onto the road. More cars race by. More tail lights trail after them.

Another car pulls up and my body moves again. This shit is getting annoying. So says my legs. When will he be here? I check my pocket watch. A gift from my father. Indirectly. But fuck it. It’s mine now. I like the styling of it. Makes me feel more important. 1:32am. I gaze up at the car parked in front and a little ways down the road from the other. This could be him. My stomach tells me I need a meal. My body odour tells me I need a wash.

A man exits. This time from the passenger door. I take note. There must be more than one in the car. I also take note the gun is still tucked in my pants. I’m golden. My jacket covers it, and I tug at its bottom to make sure. I shuffle my stance again and watch as the man approaches. My hands stuff into my pockets.

He’s not the average junky. I like that. Means he won’t be a mess to deal with. Or so it looks. Nice suit. Overcoat to match the horrid weather. Hat to keep his face slightly concealed. Or so it looks. My right hand empties from my pant pocket and I outstretch it to him. He reciprocates. Firmly. No limp fish shit. I like that. I look him dead in the eyes. Nod upwards. Then once toward a car parked three cars back and to the right. If only he could hear her. He would be impressed.

We walk over. The hearts racing. I’ve done this a few times before. The adrenaline still gets me. I don’t know why. Feel the fear and do it anyway. My father would say that. We reach the car and I glance back at him. He has a straight face. The street light is a little distance away. I purposely parked here for that reason. I see a glimpse of the man’s face as a car passes by. Clean shaven. Dark brown eyes. Striking jawline. The cars gone and the darkness welcomes us again. Cars passing by.

I reach toward the boot and slide in a key. Warm steel from my pocket meets the cold metal of the night. The lock pops with a twist of the wrist. The boot jumps up an inch ready and eager to let us inside. We both take a careful and inconspicuous look around. Fine to me. He nods letting me know he approves.

Up goes the boot. The darkness within meets the darkness without. I bend a little at the waist and lean forward. My hands dig in. They return with a suitcase. The leather feels soft to touch. Cushioned. Subtle. I pop the locks and pull it toward the dimmed light of the streets. Another quick glance around. He peers into the darkened boot and the suitcase. It’s all there. I know it is. I made sure of it three times before leaving. Nerves maybe.

He gives his approval as another car passes. We step closer toward each other. Human shields from the view of nosey tourists. This is our town. Our city. They just come and go. We own this place. Arrogant. Naïve. Cocky. All the makings of what my dad had warned me about. Early manhood rearing its ugly head. The car disappears out of sight. I smirk and look at the man now face to face with me. His lips emphasized by his strong jawline mirror mine.

The awkward moment passes and I quickly close the case. Time enough already. I pull it out of the boot and place it into his care. He takes it and lets it dangle by his side. He slides his other hand into his jacket. Time freezes and it feels like this moment lingers. Eventually it returns with a thick envelope. He flicks it toward my chest. I take it with both hands to be sure. A tip of the hat and he’s pacing up the sidewalk toward his car. I slam the boot shut. The adrenaline still present yet the mind speaks of triumph. Courage wins again.

I pretend not to care about the immediate environment as I walk to the driver’s side door. Cops. Gangsters. Thugs. Spontaneous thieves jumping out from the shadows. The heart racing as I pop open the door. In I slide. The envelope tossed onto the passenger’s seat and the key swiftly in the ignition. The sound of a car engine ticking over. The mirrors show nothing of importance.

The foot plants and the engine gets throaty. The pulse still quickened. Deep breaths and a big grin. The fedora comes off and lands next to the envelope. Leaning back in the seat as I plant the foot further down and she rumbles through the street. We leave the scene further and further behind in the rear view. Now I join the procession. Just another one going. Another car passing by.