the streets

This story started here.

I was at the absolute back of the alley, almost leaning
against the wooden fence, but suddenly there was gunfire from
behind me, as though a door had opened and someone had fired
through it. I lost no time getting down on the ground, I can
tell you.

The shooting went on for a while.
Once things had quieted down, I got up and brushed myself off.
The two cops were dead, shot several times each, and there was
nobody else in the alley. I looked at the wooden fence at the
end of the alley, and if there was any sort of door in it, it was
very well-concealed indeed.

I picked up my mug from the sidewalk outside the alley and
made my way back to Duffy’s. Once I was safely inside, I took my
seat at the table again and began to tell the story of what had
happened. I didn’t make it very far, though, before the bar
phone rang and Archie answered it. He called my name and held it
out.

“Someone named Fifteen is calling, sir,” the operator said.
“Will you accept the charges?”

“Accept the charges?” I asked. “Where is he calling
from?”

“Pasadena, sir.”

I must confess that by this time I was not really at my best.
“Pasadena?” I asked. “Pasadena, California?”

I could tell the operator was getting impatient. “Yes, sir,”
she said slowly. “Pasadena, California. Will you accept the
charges?”

“Sure,” I said, realizing that it was going on the bar’s phone
bill, not mine.

“Hey,” came Fifteen’s voice. “You okay?”

“Yes,” I said, “though I’m not sure why. Are you really in
Pasadena?”

“Yup. You think you could take up a collection there to get
me a bus ticket home?”

find out what happens next

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