01 The Wall

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Part I Autumn 

I first saw her hiding behind the crumbling brick wall of the Frontier Building.  From my terrace, which isn't much I had a perfect view of the glistening waterfront. The moonlight reflected off the dirty bay and illuminated the shambled homes on Water Street. The honking of horns and the deep bass from radios rumbled through the ground as the city came alive for the night. 

The buzz of the city evaded the waterfront though. The lights and sounds from The Brooklyn Bridge and the skyscrapers were just background noise. The water was peaceful and sleepy-looking, and I had the perfect view of it from my little rooftop garden. 

My building was just as languid as the water. Most of the tenants were elderly; tired from work, or middle-aged men who'd already drunk themselves to sleep. Then there was my mother and me. 

Candy Cohan, from what I remembered; was once a beautiful vivacious woman now worked to the bone. Her long red hair was turning gray and her smile lines were now accompanied by forehead creases giving her a permanently stressed demeanor. Her eyes had become heavy with bags and her cheekbones had hollowed out. Most nights she went to bed without dinner, only sleepily mumbling goodnight before stumbling into her bedroom. Without my mother, home felt empty and alone. 

The waterfront was dark, only dimly lit by a few streetlights and the lantern I'd hung on the porch. Tonight it was clear and crisp, a soft breeze blowing my hair when I leaned over the metal railing to peer at the street. I scanned the road below trying to find the small sedan belonging to my mother. I had no luck though, the dim street was almost empty with only a few wrappers tumbling across in the breeze. 

 In the years since we'd moved to the city, the terrace had slowly been overtaken by plants. Vines now grew around the fenced off-platform and pots of flowers were closed up for the night. Blackberry and tomato plants climbed wire cages I'd smuggled here from the garden back in Georgia. I'd neglected to pick the berries last week and now they looked about ready to burst, I plucked one off the vine and popped it in my mouth. Shocked by the sweetness I made a mental note to ask my mother if she wanted to pick them with me over the weekend. 

The whole place looked eery at this time of night. The soft breeze blowing through the leaves made a rustling noise and the vines cast fluid shadows on the wall. I shuddered from the cold and turned away from the railing. 

 I shook the watering can in my hand and felt the remaining water slosh about, I looked around the pots trying to find a plant that still needed water before peering into the can checking just how much was actually left.  

Moving the leaves of my mother's aloe plant I dumped the remaining water onto the succulent. The dirt quickly soaked up the water and a few dribbles oozed out of the bottom of the pot forming a puddle under the stool where the plant was perched. Pleased with myself I dropped the plastic watering can letting it clatter onto the concrete floor before peeling off my gardening gloves. 

With a measly kick, I sent the watering can sliding under the stool.  The piece of green plastic had been delicately painted by my stepmother. Purple flowers sprouted from the base and formed a wreath around her name which was painted onto the can in the most elegant gold script. The letters of her name had become chipped and worn over the years but were still bright and visible.  I crouched down and set the can right side up. Turning the name Janice-Jolene away from the door, as to not upset my mother when she woke up. 

That's when I heard it, a loud clang ringing out from the street below me. I whirled around thinking I'd knocked the old Hello Kitty lantern off its post and it'd tumbled to its death on the street below, but when I turned around the familiar face of Kitty smiled creepily back at me. 

I popped up and leaned over the cold metal railing to peer at the street again. The road was still empty, no cars lined the streets, and the houses across the way were all dark, not even a bird was roosting on the rooftops. 

Then my gaze fell to the old decrepit Frontier Building. It sat high and mighty at the end of the street. The building was by far the tallest and most extravagant on Water Street. It was four or five stories of brick with long stained glass windows and tall decorated double doors. It was shambled and falling apart but maintained an air of superiority. Two dim lights illuminated the flag and its coveted historical property sign. 

She was there, cowering in the alley rolling a rock around in her hand. There were no lights in the crevice but her silhouette paced back and forth tossing the stone in the air. 

She stepped back into the light, wearing a black hoodie much too large for her. Long curls peeped from under the huge hood floating lazily in the wind. Her white vans were spotless and the streetlight made them appear to be glowing. 

She held the rock aloft and mock threw it like she was teasing a dog. She stopped for a moment before shrugging a backpack from her shoulders and letting it drop gently to the ground. She peered around the street before winding up her arm. She chucked the rock at the nearest light, instantly cracking the bulb. 

With a sigh of air and an electrical splutter the light faded away. Her shadow bounced around on the wall as she grabbed her backpack and scuttled away. 

I leaned in farther over the railing trying to see her face or at least what she was doing, but in the darkness nothing was visible. Once the light was broken she'd slinked back behind the wall into the dark. Nothing was visible now except a soft glow from the second light that still illuminated the historical property plaque. 

The street was silent again, and I was about to turn and head back inside away from the chilly autumn night when a faint rattling came from the old town hall. Once again I stifled my neck trying to see what was happening down below. Nothing was visible in the night, twilight had completely settled in now and the wind had picked up. The rattling and clicking from down the road were almost drowned out by the wind. 

I sighed and clicked off the Hello Kitty Latern before stepping back into the apartment closing the sliding doors behind me firmly. The warmth of our apartment immediately reached me, and my chill tensed muscles slowly relaxed. 

Our apartment smelt strongly of smoke and the microwave door was still open from when my mother had reheated leftovers this evening. Her gentle snores and the click of the radiator filled the apartment. 

She must have snuck in while I was outside. She didn't like bothering me while I was working, even to say goodnight. I sighed, rubbing my temple. 

Tiptoeing down the hall I peered into my mothers' room. Even in sleep, she looked exhausted. She hadn't even changed before heading to bed. Her bowl of two-week-old kraft mac and cheese was half-finished and sitting on her nightstand abandoned.

 I snuck quietly into her room and removed her glasses from her nose. She sniffled and adjusted slightly at my presence. Folding them up, I traded the glasses for her dinner dish and retreated almost silently from her room. 

A small creak echoed through the bedroom as I stupidly stepped on the loose floorboard. I swiveled around to see my mother lying dazed, her eyes half-open. She rubbed her eyes and squinted in the darkness. 

She yawned and pulled the blanket tighter around her chest "Goodnight Sammy," She croaked before rolling back over and resting her head on the old pillow. She settled in and quickly began snoring again. 

"Goodnight ma." 

Word Count: 1476   -----  May 11th, 2021

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A/n Oh boy this project has been sitting in the back of my closet for a while. I loved the idea so much I was afraid to show it to the world. I can't tell you how many times I re-read and re-read this first chapter editing it and changing everything trying to make it perfect. Of course, this is only the first draft and I've got a long way to go. I have about 3 notebooks of notes for little Sammy, ugh I'm so excited. It feels good to be so eager to work on a project again! Hope you enjoyed stopping back again because I have a good feeling I'm going to be updating this guy pretty frequently!

This chapter is dedicated to Sohinee Pramanik for reading and voting for Hopeless Sam and offering such helpful and inspiring comments! 

-Marja 

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