The Long Road to Easy Street

I stepped out into the crispness of an early October morning and took in a deep breath. Exhaust fumes, fresh asphalt, and the ever constant, underlying funk of garbage. Ah, gotta love this metropolis of a wasteland. I rolled my eyes, shelved my sarcasm best I could, and took that first dreaded step in the direction of my more dreaded destination. Four years now, give or take a month or so, I'd been making this depressing little commute; usually six, sometimes seven, but never less than five days a week. Christ, how the mighty have fallen... yeah turns out that stereotypical girl really does exist. You know the one, Ms. Highschool Fabulous, got it all with a future so bright you become concerned for her eyesight, but then one day highschool is over and life gets real and badda boom badda bam she ends up fading into some lackluster background that became her reality. Hell of it is she likely never even realized she was falling until she experienced that lovely abrupt stop at the end. No, hell of it is she's me, I am her, and frankly it sucked...not bad enough to change anything apparently though. I did not need the weight of that depressive little mindfuck however and paused to force my attention outward. I wondered if this place ever had a moment in time it too had been considered beautiful, full of potential and destined for something so much more. Hard to believe that once you felt the nearly visible greyness that seemed to hang in the air here. I forced myself to tune in and really listen to the voice of this intentioned elegant dame turned old crone and bitter to it's bones about it. Horns blaring, squealing tires and breaks, overworked machinary far passed it's prime, unintelligible but obviously angry or frustrated voices in varying languages, occasional gun shots and sirens, helicopter blades slashing the air overhead and at a distance, electrical hums and tinks, and the hisses of steam escaping grates and manholes. Cold, depressing sounds; no birds chirping or insects singing, no laughter or voices raised in excitement from children or rebellious teens. Hell with no parks or picnic areas and only the rare scraggly excuse for a tree I'm amazed we haven't all suffocated considering the size of this place accompanied by the size of it's population. No wonder the suicide rate was off the charts here. Maybe outward focus was a worse idea, even the feel and soft snick of my tennis shoes catching on the cracked, often crumbling, concrete from time to time just seemed to hollow me out.

"Hey lady? Lady! Hey bitch I said hey... hey... hey!" Great and I'd even lucked up on gaining the attention of one of the cities crazies or druggies or both. I immediately felt guilty for that thought as I glanced at the now well faded scars decorating my hands and forearms. Don't be them, be anything but those judgemental bastards, I mentally shook myself. Knowing only one real way to deal with the inevitable confrontation that gave both sides a good chance of walking away intact, I stopped, hesitated half a breath, then spun on my heel to face my articulate adversary.

"And I heard you fine. It's only your choice to holler at me, but only my choice to respond or ignore." I cocked a hip to the right, my head to the left, and crossed my arms in front of me. "Since you so poetically insist upon some type of response, what the fuck do you want?"

I hate these moments, almost never do these encounters occur, not for me anyway, but I'm always amazed how well I can appear to solidly stand my ground seeming only mildly annoyed when inside I'm a mess. Adrenaline starting to feed into my blood stream, guilt and heartbreak for their obvious quality of life, pissed to have to deal with it and because for all of humanity's great leaps and bounds and accomplishments we still haven't managed to simply take care of those needing it most or even begin giving a damn. He stood there sort of stunned to find prey turning antagonist.

"You got money smart bitch?"

"You got any manners prick?" He actually grinned a bit at that.

"You ain't pampered bitch rich and scared is you? You look the part but you ain't huh red?"

Ah yes, red, how original, considering my unique blend of orange/auburn/dark copper curls I'm amazed I'd never heard that one before...

"And you ain't so stupid huh? I don't know, you down to walk with me a ways to the next store? Grab a bite 'n' maybe some things you might need or you just looking for fast cash to get that next fix?" I arched an eyebrow but relaxed a bit, he wasn't one of the straight crazy ones or vicious type. Just one more person beaten and broken down by this life, coping best they knew how. I hated watching the indecision play across his features, I knew that thought process too well. 'Damn, I am hungry but I ain't about to be dope sick either.' I really, really hate this damn world sometimes. 

"Lady I think maybe I thought you was some body else, you should go head on be on your way now."

Damn now he was really pulling heart strings and reminding me of old demons.

"How bout this man, next store is about ten minutes that way..." I hooked a thumb over my shoulder. "This ain't the safest place in the city, and I am well aware of my appearance. Say we make us a deal?" At least I had his attention and he didn't just take off. What the hell had gotten into me? It had to have been a solid seven years at least since I felt compelled to reach out to anybody. To really even interact at all beyond what was required at my job...that aforementioned worse dreaded destination.

"What type a deal lady?"

"Say Im feeling a little skittish now, you come with me, watch my back, I'm no longer a single female walking all alone and lunch and some necessities is on me, plus I'll throw you an extra twenty bucks for your troubles."

"Shit, you serious lady?"

"Name's Jay, not red or lady, but I've been known to be a bitch from time to time." I smiled finally and offered a handshake. He kinda stared at my extended hand for a second then almost cautiously accepted the gesture.

"They call me Easy." He really grinned this time, full on smiled even and I found myself thinking 'wow what a friggin charismatic change to this guy's appearance' .

"You know, easy come, easy go?" He laughed and I did too. "Shit it's your lucky day Jay consider yourself on Easy street." He strutted up beside me, chest all puffed out proud as a peacock about that line, and hooked his arm out for me to hold.

I haven't the slightest clue what got into me that day, even now years later, but I couldn't stop myself from smiling, looping my arm through his, and allowing him to lead us on. I didn't realize it then but that day set into motion a chain of events that would forever change me and my life.

To have come off so gruff, rude, and possibly dangerous upon first impression Easy fast proved himself more than meets that original idea. He was hilarious for one, quick to make a joke and laugh, very articulate in reality despite my previous sarcastic thoughts; for another it was apparent, at least to me, that life hadn't been just cruel to him but downright brutal. This life is never fair, true enough, pain will find and transform us all even if just a little for those rare lucky few, but for Easy it had certainly been anything but as his nickname implied. I was two years his senior at twenty-eight but he looked five years mine despite the fact that life hadn't exactly treated me with much in the way of kindness either. Age in years and age in experience I've come to believe and those matured more by harsh experience than time itself often seem ancient when compared. Old souls they like to say. That was the first day since getting my going nowhere, stress filled job and moving to this damn city that I called in sick. We took a seat in the tiny deli section of that little store and actually sat and ate, just enjoying our conversation. I realized I couldn't recall the last time I enjoyed just socially interacting with another human being, or socially interacted at all for that matter. 

"So miss Jay, you straight crazy or does getting all 'do something motherfucker' with what coulda been a street thug that woulda killed you have something to do with those scars?"

I shrugged. "Likely both." I laughed. "I just fully understand what it's like to be alone and desperate and addicted too. Life can be so damn cruel."

He didn't respond, just chewed another bite of his philly cheese steak and nodded solemnly. We finished our meal, walked and talked for awhile, then I upheld my end of the deal giving him a twenty dollar bill, and bid goodbye. Think that may have been the very first day I honestly enjoyed myself since becoming one more rat in the city's constant race.

To my surprise, and delight I realized, Easy was waiting on me nearly in the same place. I joked that I couldn't be spending more on him everyday than I did myself in a week but made it clear I'd enjoy his company and buy lunch anytime he wanted to meet me. I even started leaving early so we'd have plenty of time. Everyday for nearly a month this was our routine and I'd come to really love Easy, nothing romantic but he was my best friend, only friend. I'd push him to get clean and he'd push me to do something I'd actually enjoy like writing, I'd always dreamed of being an author but dreams don't pay bills. It was nice having something to look forward to everyday.

It was a mild winter day, that grey feel could actually be seen that morning and it was more fitting than I could've known. Easy wasn't waiting for me, I thought it odd but chalked it up to him having something else he needed to do. He was doing really well, even able to pass a drug screen on his own for a few jobs he'd put in for. Things were really looking up for him and I was proud. When he was a no show the following day I began to get uneasy, no pun in the least. By the third day I was worrying hard and when day four came and went with no sign I knew something was wrong and I had to find out what was going on. It dawned on me then just how isolated I really was...what was I going to do, who was there to ask? I didn't even know his real name and mentally kicked myself for not finding out so much that was now so important. Weeks passed and I sank into an even darker depression than I knew before meeting Easy.

I decided I'd head to the little store that had become our lunch place just for old times sake or maybe even to just delve on into the pain and confusion. Crazy how one simple little friendship could have such a profound impact. I ordered my usual BLT and nearly got it to go. Our normal booth was taken so I opted for a chair and two person table by the window. As I sit down I noticed a couple rough around the edges guys sizing me up but didn't have it in me to even act as if I'd noticed. I made it through my first bite when my peripheral caught movement and I turned to see one of the men walking my way. Great, just exactly what I felt like dealing with, I thought rolling my eyes.

"Hey"

I didn't bother responding just looked up at him putting as much fuck off into expression as possible.

"You gotta be Jay right? Easy's friend?"

Thank God I hadn't been chewing I would've choked right then and there. I sat up straight so quickly it must have appeared I was jumping to my feet because he took a step back and looked as if he may even bolt.

"You know Easy? Where is he? Have you seen him lately? Is he okay? I've went to our spot everyday kicking myself for not knowing what else to do, please tell me you know something, hell anything!"

I knew immediately, one look at the change in his expression told me before he could and I burst into tears. He took me by my shoulders helping me to stand, and hugged me tightly telling me he was sorry and other soothing things I blocked out as my mind reeled and my heart broke. He went by Tuke and his buddy was Z, once the worst of my reaction had passed I joined them at their booth and they filled me in. They knew Easy from being into the same things and living on the streets, he had told them all about the crazy redheaded chick who ended up becoming his best friend and savior, even telling them about our lunch spot and thank God, the fates, or whoever and whatever you believe in that he did. They'd been with him when it happened, stupid fucking fight, some asshole saying Easy owed him money. Easy denied it, the guy threw a punch, and then they were both throwing punches. Ended up wrestling around on the ground and suddenly the sorry bastard let go of Easy, jumped up, and ran. As Z and Tuke closed in to help him up they realized he may not ever get up again. The 'sorry bastard' as I'll forever call him, as he was never caught, had stuck a knife in Easy's chest and, as horrible luck would have it, pierced that big heart of his. He had died just a few hours later at Angel's of Divine Mercy hospital, just another random street person.

I shattered, my chest physically hurting from my heart tearing apart. I don't know how long I sat there with them that day and I couldn't tell you how many days afterward were a blur.

Before we parted that day they gave me a picture Easy had asked them to, still so beautiful but heart wrenching to have been the one on his mind when he realized he was leaving this damned world. It was the one I had snapped on my phone of us smiling, arms around each other's shoulders standing where we met. I had printed a copy and gave it to him after writing 'Jay's lucky place on Easy's street, Love you' on the back. Now it also read 'Miss Jay, my second chance and reason to believe again'. I still cry anytime I think of it. The city had Easy cremated because, of course, no one had claimed him, it took four excruciating months to track everything down and convince someone I deserved those precious ashes. The day I found out I had went home and started writing, eventually typing up a, not quiet novel length but close, story using ours as the inspiration and submitted it. I quit that miserable nowhere job and began looking for another place to call home. Three days after I finally got to pick up Easy's ashes; an editor called. Now I live in a much prettier place, even have my own pond in the backyard and a publisher contract that I feel future security with. After buying my own house in a more country style setting with my first few payments and setting Z and Tuke, (Androse and Shawn) up with a damn good rehab facility and awaiting halfway home, I took my very first flight to an island close to Hawaii. Home to a beautiful black sand beach, four non-recent active volcanoes and the most beautiful sea scape I'd ever seen. Easy and I had talked about escaping to some magical place like this many times and releasing his ashes there felt right after searching hundreds of other potential spots.

I've never been back to that cold, lonely city where I found and lost the best friend of my life, though I'm grateful to have known it. Funny he had called me a savior and second chance when in reality he was mine.