Elder 6

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have the big house and the front porch but the kids rule the alley. Well, the kids and the vagabonds, the drunks and the stray dogs that is. Our alley is a good one because there are busy streets on both ends of our block. The backside of the houses on our street, Holly Street, and the houses on Russell Street all share a common alley. Every house has a three-sided cinder-block pit for burning trash. The city gives us metal trashcans and they send somebody out to pick them up and empty them into a big truck every week. Pick up days are our favorites. Sometimes they send convicts with wide striped shirts, guilty of Lord knows what all. And other times its men folks in fairly nice clothes that come after the trash; nicer clothes than the men that live on Holly
Street. Mama says they probably made the wrong person mad or they been running around with the wrong crowd. This only served to prove Mama’s theory that you are whoever you associate with. Whatever the reason, the well-dressed pick up men keep their heads down and work careful. Look like to me they trying to preserve their shined shoes as best they can. Willy loves to fill our leaky metal can with soured milk just to hear them cuss. The “hobos”, as Pop calls them, are kind a sad. Like walking scarecrows, they barely able to lift the metal cans. Willy calls them “zombies”. He’s been obsessed with zombies ever since he saw a picture show at the Roxy about them. Mama said they were “alkies” trying to drink themselves to death. At least once a day we make a run through the alley to check out every fire pit and bin. Willy and Bud found a quarter once and spent the whole day at the Roxy. I found a diamond ring without no diamond. The rings empty prongs made a great weapon for threatening Willy. Aside from the fire pits and trash bins, every house had a alley house. Some are barely standing with giant holes in their roofs, but others are kept up nice because they are rented out to relatives or boarders. I wished I could live in ours all by myself. No Mama to make me watch after Grandma … no Willy or Bud to tear the heads off my baby dolls and no crazy old Pop peeing all over the place. Every time I asked Mama if I could move into the
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Elder 6

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