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Race ran up the staircase into the bunk room, grinning from ear to ear for the first time in weeks. He’d gotten a ton of extra money from people not willing to make change, and he was getting closer and closer to getting himself those new, well new to him, shoes he’d been eyeing down at the pawn shop. It was a good day.
“Hey boys, good selling day, damn good selling day,” Race said, bursting through the door and getting a good two steps before he saw everyone sitting at his bunk. They all were dead silent. “Hey what’s wrong?”
Nobody said anything, and Race rushed over to the bunk. Nobody was making eye contact, and Elmer was crying .
“Jackie?”
Jack was sitting in the middle of everyone, on Race’s bottom bunk, and looked up at Race with red eyes. Panic was welling in his chest before the older boy could say anything, and he sat down next to him.
“What the hell’s goin’ on?” he asked, looking around at the others and getting nothing back before looking at Jack. “Did somethin’ happen, somebody sick?”
Jack cleared his throat and took a deep breath before saying anything. Something was wrong .
“It’s uh,” he started, voice catching in his throat as he did, “it’s Al.”
Race felt his heart pick up and he looked around the room, trying to find Albert among the crowd. “Whaddya mean? Where is he, what’s the matter with him?”
Elmer burst into another sob and Race felt his head start to spin. He knew what Jack was going to say before the words actually formed.
“Al’s dead, Racer.”
A few another sobs came out from across the room and Race staggered up and back, keeping eye contact with Jack, who started to get up after him. “No, Jack, that-that ain’t-”
“He got caught up under a carriage ‘bout an hour ago,” he said softly, and his hands were shaking as he did. “He’s gone, coroner already took ‘im away.”
Race started clawing at the beds of his fingernails and he couldn’t breathe dammit. He’d seen Albert this morning, he couldn’t be dead, he couldn’t do that it couldn’t be real.
Jack moved toward him, and Race saw the other kids watching him with a mixture of fear and sadness. He needed to get out.
“Racer-”
Race had turned heel and was out the bunk room door before Jack got the chance to say anything else. Feet dragging, he fought to keep from falling down the stairs but the whole room was tilting.
Albert was dead. Albert was his best friend and he was dead .
As he got to the bottom of the stairs he heard muffled voices calling after him, but he gripped the banister and kept going. A sob was starting to make its way up his throat and he shoved at the lodge house door hard, a spike of pain going through his hands from the force but he couldn’t feel it.
“Fuck, no, c’mon.”
He wasn’t really aware of anything he was saying, and there were tears running down his face now.
The alley was the closest thing off the street and he watched the brick swim in front of him for a second before letting the sob go and his fist move toward the wall.
Crack .
He’d known the guy his whole life and the body was already gone.
Crack .
There was a time last year when Albert hadn’t sold for a whole week once Racer got sick. They’d both gone broke in the process of him getting better.
Crack .
None of it fucking mattered now.
Crack .
Crack .
Crack .
“Hey, hey , back off it, Race.”
Blood was dripping off his hand and everything hurt, and there was a hand on his collar tugging him back, coming around his chest when he lunged forward again. He didn’t have to turn around to know who it was.
“You’se hurtin’ yourself, leave it,” Spot’s voice said from over his shoulder, pulling him back another step as his other arm came around Race’s chest, holding him still.
“Let me go,” he snarled, the words coming out choked and he clawed weakly at Spot’s hands. They didn’t move.
Spot just took another step back. “Fuckin’ yourself up ain’t gonna bring him back.”
Race took a deep shuddering breath, nearly going limp in Spot’s grip as he did. “He’s-”
“I know, I heard,” Spot said, voice rumbling into Race’s back. “I’m sorry.”
He was crying then, full on losing it in the alley and Spot was still holding him back, keeping him from falling to the ground like he knew he would if the guy had let go.
“It’s gonna be okay.”
Race was hiccuping, shaking head and putting his full weight into Spot. “They already took ‘im away.”
Gently, with more care than one might expect from Spot Conlon, Spot turned Race around so that he was facing Spot. He held the younger up and made steady eye contact. “They did, they do that and it ain’t right but there ain’t nothin’ you can do now.”
Race was still crying and Spot looked all blurry through the tears. “I-I dunno what I’m gonna do.”
He more or less fell into Spot again, solid arms wrapping him into his chest and holding him there.
“You’se gonna be okay, it’s gonna be okay.”
There were footsteps from the alley, and Race didn’t care or bother to look up, but there was another voice now and another pair of arms wrapping around Race from behind.
Jack’s voice was saying something softly now that Race couldn’t catch. It hurt , he hurt .
Albert was gone, and he was here in an alley with Jack and Spot, and it hurt.
After a while, Race calmed down, and the two boys pulled back and let him stand there, looking at the ground and catching his breath. He looked up at Spot, and there was an apology in his eyes that he was grateful for before he turned to Jack.
“What are we gonna do?” he asked. He sounded small, everything felt so small all the sudden.
Jack shrugged, his own face tear streaked as he put a hand on Race’s shoulder. “Couldn’t tell ya, but we’se all still here, the rest of us.”
Race nodded and silence fell over the alley. Somewhere else in the city a yell rang out. It didn’t matter who it was coming from. None of it mattered outside this alley, and they all knew it, because it was different now. It would always be different from here on out.