MAYBES

Why was Seth so set on seeing such seemingly squalid surroundings?

Ah, a tongue twister and a conundrum.

The answer is easier than the verbalization.

Seth was broke.  (See, that was easy.)  Seth needed a new home.  (Not so easy a solution, especially in San Francisco.)  Seth had no job or prospects for employment.  (Which was fast becoming the norm in the chilly city by the bay.)  So you can see why Seth was so set on seeing such seemingly squalid surroundings.  (It does get easier to say, doesn’t it?)

So Seth selected SoMa.  (Last one, promise.)

Not that SoMa is necessarily squalid, mind you.  After all, tons of condos and luxurious live/work spaces had been springing up in the neighborhood for years now. Still, there were plenty of streets where gentrification had yet to seep in.  Seth had few options except the back alley, run down roads that remained.  Besides, he thought, maybe his life would take a sudden turn for the better once he got a new place.

And what he got from unemployment could easily afford him a shared apartment.  Certainly it was better than moving to Oakland or, heaven forbid, beyond.  Though what was beyond Oakland remained a mystery to Seth.  With no car and little money, he was fairly stuck where he was.  Not a bad thing really.  Oz, even in the worst parts, was still Oz.  And Kansas (the rest of the world) was far away and utterly too gray for him.  No, Seth thought, SoMa it is.

And so, SoMa it was.

The house was badly in need of a new paint job.  His room was small and streetside, and he had one other roommate to share a bathroom with.  But on the bright side, the landlord only wanted a check for first and last month’s rent.  That’s it.  He could have cared less about Seth’s current or past history.

And though Seth barely had enough money to cover the down payment, the rent each month would be manageable, and it was better than the alternative:  no place at all.  So Seth, with what few belongings he had, moved in.  He was, if not happy, then at least safe.  Seemingly safe, that is.  At least he had a roof over his head.  Things could have been worse.

***

Jesse lived on the street, around the corner from a Filipino grocery store, in a box he had found on the sidewalk.  He was just barely 17.  A high school dropout.  A drug addict.  Clearly homeless and penniless.  And always hungry.  Hungry for food, for money, for drugs, for anything.  Without a roof over his head, things could not have been worse.

***

“Hi, name’s Seth,” Seth said, greeting his new roommate in the kitchen just shortly after he finished unpacking.

“Glenn,” was the monosyllabic response.  That and a nod was the only house warming Seth received.  It was also the end of the conversation.  Glenn took his sandwich and his Coke and quickly returned to his room at the other end of the house, closing his bedroom door behind him.

“Nice guy,” Seth mumbled to himself.  “I’m sure we’ll be best of friends.”

And with that, Seth went exploring his new neighborhood.

Not that there was that much to see.

There were many warehouses, assorted homes, all similar to the one he was now renting, a smattering of new condos, all of which looked unremarkably similar, scattered businesses, trashy dive bars, and a few downscale restaurants.  Luckily, there was also a Filipino grocery store right around the corner.  At least he’d be able to buy food and essentials, money permitting that is.

“Oh well,” he said to himself, “it could be worse.”

***

Jesse hated living on the street, and he hated the neighborhood even worse, but it was relatively safe compared to some of the other places he had slept.  Most of all, he hated being hungry.  If he only had the money, he would have straightened out his act.  Maybe he’d try moving back home again.  If he was off the drugs, maybe his parents would take him back.

But Jesse knew that maybes didn’t hold as much joy as a shot in his arm.  Maybes only made you sadder.  Maybes didn’t do a hell of a lot of good for a kid like him.

***

Seth’s first night in his new home was anything but restful.

Even with his bedroom door closed, he could hear Glenn’s music blaring from the other end of the house.  And to make matters worse, there was a homeless man shouting outside his window.  Should he say something to one or both of them?  He thought not.  Why rock a boat that’s already in untested waters?  Besides, he could go buy a pair of earplugs tomorrow.

Unfortunately, it didn’t stop there.  Starting at around midnight, there were people coming in and out of the house just about every half hour.  How could he ever get to sleep with all this going on?  And what exactly was going on?  What the hell had he gotten himself into?

Thank goodness for Tylenol PM.  He found a bottle in his knapsack and managed to get to sleep somewhere around three o’clock.  He didn’t wake up until around ten, when he heard the front door slam.  He peeked out from behind his blinds and saw Glenn leaving.

“What, no breakfast and witty repartee with the new roomie?” he said to himself.

He watched as Glenn made his way down the street, noticing with alarm when a homeless man, no more than a kid really, stopped to ask Glenn for some money.  Glenn pushed him hard out of the way, knocking the guy over.

“Uh-oh,” Seth said.  “Not good.”

Feeling all of a sudden very awake, he decided on some breakfast.

He sat at the kitchen table and ate as he stared ahead and thought about his new situation.

“Maybe Glenn’s having a bad day,” he justified.  “Maybe he’s really a nice guy and the last twenty four hours have been outside the norm.  Maybe it’ll all blow over and everything will be hunky-dory.”

Seth tried hard not to think about the next maybe, but…

“Maybe I should take a look in Glenn’s room, just to be on the safe side.”

Maybes can be a dangerous thing, Seth knew, but so could living in the house with Glenn.

He got up and walked over to Glenn’s door.  There were no locks, so he knew he’d be able to peek in.  Just a peek, he thought, to set his mind at rest.

“What a sty,” he said, as he cracked the door open, stepped in and closed the door behind him.  The room was a complete mess.  Clothes everywhere, ashtrays filled to the brim, empty food containers all around.  There was only one item in the whole room that was uncluttered.  And that was the chest beneath the window.

“Maybe I should have a look,” he whispered to himself.

He stepped into the room and bent down to lift the chest open.

“Or maybe I shouldn’t,” he said.

But his hands were working faster than his head.

The inside held very little.  A bag, a bong and a bullet.  The bullet is what caused Seth’s heart to pound.

“Not good,” he said.  “Not good at all.”

But things were getting worse.

Just then, Seth heard the front door open.

“Shit,” he whispered.  “Now what?”

Acting on instinct and a rush of adrenaline, Seth flung open the window and started to climb out.  The bag caught his eye before he could escape.

“Maybe I should take it.  Insurance,” he thought.  Though what he was insuring himself against was anybody’s guess.

He made it out the window just as Glenn stepped into the bedroom.

‘What the fuck!” Seth heard Glenn shout, as he raced down the sidewalk, with the bag held tightly in his hand.

He stopped at the corner and turned around.  Glenn was climbing out of the window and yelling for Seth to stop.

“Yeah, that’ll happen,” he said, running around the corner.

Unfortunately, Seth didn’t know the neighborhood yet.  Around the corner was nothing but a dead end street.

“Maybe he didn’t see which way I went,” Seth said, as he realized what he had just done.

“Or maybe I did,” he heard Glenn say from behind him.

“Put the bag down and step back,” Glenn said, as he inched his way into the alley.

Seth stood there, frozen in place.

“Just drop the bag and nothing will happen,” Glenn said.

But Seth’s hands were locked onto that bag.  Nothing could have gotten him to drop it, even if he wanted to.  Seth just stood there, helpless, as Glenn moved closer and closer, until they were just inches apart.  Seth could feel Glenn’s breath as they stood there staring at each other.

“I think you poked your nose where you shouldn’t have.  I think maybe today is not your lucky day,” Glenn sneered at him.

Seth shut his eyes and gulped.

“Or maybe not,” Seth heard someone say.  Someone who wasn’t Glenn.  Someone who, thank goodness Seth saw as he squinted his eyes open, had a cinder block perched over Glenn’s head.

“Maybe next time you’ll give a guy a quarter when he asks for one,” Jesse said as he let the cinder block drop.

Glenn fell to the ground as Seth stood there staring at Jesse.

“What’s in the bag?” Jesse asked.

“Beats me,” Seth mumbled.

“Let’s have a look then,” Jesse said, as he reached down for it.  Seth looked on, still too shocked to move.

“Looks like we got ourselves one bad man,” Jesse said, as he removed the gun from the bag.

“Well, that explains the bullet,” Seth whispered.

“Guess he was protecting this,” Jesse said, taking a very full baggie of white powder out.

“Or this,” he added, pulling out the remaining contents of the bag:  a large wad of cash.  A good three inches thick, Seth figured.

“Now what do we do?” Seth asked, finally finding his full voice.

To which Jesse didn’t readily reply.

He just stood there staring at the money, the gun and the baggie.

He stood there thinking about all those maybes that now lay before him.

Then he smiled and reached for the baggie.  Seth thought he was going to take it, but instead he knelt down and tucked it under Glenn’s shirt.  Then he grabbed for the gun.  Seth sucked in his breath, but Jesse looked up and shook his head no.  Then he pointed the gun straight up in the air and pulled the trigger.

The shot echoed loudly down the small dead end alley.  Seth gave a jump but otherwise stood his ground.

“Here,” Jesse said, handing half the money to Seth.  “Take it.”

When a man with a gun tells you to do something, you do it.  Seth took the money and shoved it in his pocket.

“Now what?” Seth asked.

“Now we run.  Cops will be here soon,” Jesse answered.

“And him?” Seth asked, looking down at Glenn.

Jesse smiled and started running out of the dead end.

“I think maybe you should forget about him and start running,” he shouted as he turned the corner, out of Seth’s sight.

“Maybe I should,” Seth said. “Maybe I should.”