Songs From the Alley

My son and his wife live right in the middle of one of America's biggest cities, and it's a place I love to visit. Because it's downtown, their apartment is in an old building that is surrounded by the colorful; people who live on the streets or who live in various nearby shelters. At night, especially if you sleep with the windows open, you can hear the sounds of the alley two floors down. It's always fascinating to me.

There is the homeless man who lives on a cardboard island. During my last visit in the early fall, he rarely left his spot, but held court for those who wandered by. I admit to spying on him as he negotiated for the day's necessities. He would hand his cash over, some sort of deal was made, and the passerby would wander off to return an hour later, his pockets stuffed with sandwiches or fruit or milk - once a Starbucks coffee. My son told me that the individuals making the deals live a few doors down in a home for people who, for various reasons, can't live on their own. Their needs are met at the home, but the one thing they can't get there is cigarettes. Hence, the back-alley dealing.

Another couple entered the alley every morning at 4 a.m. like clockwork, to rummage through the dumpsters while bickering bitterly. They must have been devoted to each other because they were always together, but they didn't seem to like each other much.

Then there was the fellow they called The Puker. He was a man with apparent lung disease, one of the dealers for smokes, who, after he enjoyed his tobacco (or whatever), would follow it by hacking up a lung. It was loud and painful to hear. One night I awoke in the wee hours to that sound, followed by the voice of my son calling to The Puker from the window in the next room. "Hey, Dude! You can't do that here." Silence. Cough, cough, hack. Then, "I can still see you!" Silence. More hacking. Then, "Dude, I can still see you behind that dumpster!"

My son and his wife take it all in stride. It's all part of living downtown and they've made their peace with the inhabitants of their neighborhood. Last night, a new message appeared on my phone:
"Good news! The alley now has a piano for all passersby to bang on." I suspect it won't be there long, but he says it's amazing how all who walk through are compelled to try their hand. The melody of street life during a big city winter.