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Blood Alley isa strange place. As soon as you step foot on the narrow cobblestonelane, you’re hit with the overwhelming stench of urine and garbage.Even though it’s a beautiful day, it’s dark here. Dumpsters withmakeshift cardboard beds sit against the brick buildings. BloodAlley got its portentous name from when a string of butcher’s soldmeat here in the late 1800’s. Now, its old buildings have beenturned into cheap rooms that cater to cash and carry pimps anddealers. As I near the middle of the alley, there’s an elderlywoman talking to herself and pushing a cart. I reach into my pocketand pull out a five. If I want any information from anyone here,I’m going to need money as an incentive. I stop in front of her.She looks up at me but doesn’t see me. Her eyes look spaced out asshe continues chanting.
“Hello,” I say,holding the bill where she can see it. She stops chattering andlooks at the money.
Speaking loudlyand clearly, I ask her if she knows where I can find Slinky? Forthe first time, she looks at my face and seems to connect. Irepeat, “Do you know where I can find Slinky?” I hold the moneyout.
She turnsaround and points to a red door at the end of the alley way.
“He’s downthere?” I say, handing her the money. She nods and resumes chantingand fiddling with the cart. The closer I get to the red door, themore anxious I’m feeling. This place has such a negative vibe. Ican’t imagine its inhabitants having much in the way of morals. Ifthe wrong person happened by me at the right time, I could be inreal trouble. Thankfully, there’s not a lot of foot traffic rightnow. When I get to the door, I pull my sleeve over my hand and openthe door. The putrid odor in the alley way is nothing compared tothe thick stench inside the hall. I gag and hold my arm over mynose. Looking up, I see five narrow stairs that lead up to anotherlevel.
As soon as Istart to climb, I hear a door shut from above and then footsteps.Next, the door to the stairwell opens and two men walk through. Thefirst man is old and bent over a bit. He’s wearing dirtylight-colored pants and has on a blue ski coat with rips on thearms. His hair is almost completely gone on top and the back ispulled into a grey ponytail. The younger man behind him is thin aswell but stands a good foot taller. I stop my ascent and stepbackwards until I reach the landing. They both stare at me as theywalk. I reach my hand into my pocket and ready a new bill.
“Hi. I’mlooking for Slinky.” I say, pulling another five-dollar bill frommy pocket. When they reach the landing, the younger man says, “Whothe hell are you?”
“Just afriend,” I say smiling. He looks at my hand and sees the money.“Were you going to give that to us?”
“Yes. I thoughtit would be a kind gesture in exchange for information.”
He laughs, “Itwould be. I bet you have more kind gestures in your pocket?!”
All of asudden, I feel unsafe and am rethinking my decision to use money asa lure. The old guy walks up until he’s only inches from my face.His breath smells of stale booze and rotten food, “You say you’re afriend of Slinky’s?”
“Yeah. Well,not me, but my parents are…were.”
He looks me upand down and with a furrowed brow says, “Who’s your parents?”
Not wanting topiss him off, I try and approach my answer diplomatically, “Well,it’s actually a long story. I’d rather to save it for Slinky, if Ican find him.”
The old codgerstares into my eyes. I’m not sure if it’s his way of intimidatingme or if he’s trying to detect bullshit.
The younger guypipes up, “Let’s just take her cash and get the fuck out of here,Slink.”
The old manshoots him a punishing glare.
“Hey? You’reSlinky?”
“Depends onwho’s asking?”
“I’m JuliaGordon. My dad is John Gordon and my mom was…”
“Jean. Yourmother’s name was Jean,” he says, his face relaxing. “I knew yourparents very well. We were close,” he says, smiling and revealingbroken brown teeth.
“It’s nice tomeet you, Slinky. Is there somewhere we can go to talk?”
“Of course. Howdid you find me?”
“A man namedJim that works at the bottle depot told me you’d be here, in BloodAlley.”
Slinky looks atthe tall man and seems to communicate something with his eyes. Theguy nods and then walks out into the alley. Slinky leads me outsideand tells me there’s a place a half a block away where we can goand talk.
As soon as wewalk out of the alleyway, I take my first deep breath sincearriving in Blood Alley.
“So, Julia,where is your father now? He’s in good health, I hope?”
“He’s in theICU at the hospital. That’s actually the main reason I came here tofind you.”
“I’d heard hewas out of prison, but I wasn’t aware he was in the hospital. ICU,you say? Something serious?”
“Yes. He wasbeaten up by two men, or so Jim says.”
“Jim, from thebottle depot is a crackhead. You can’t believe a word that skidsays.”
“Yeah, Idefinitely detected an element of bullshit.”
We arrive at asmall Chinese Restaurant and sit at a booth in the back. Slinkyseems to know the waitress, as he holds up two fingers and shebrings us a couple cups of coffee. Slinky is staring at me, “Ican’t believe you’re John and Jean Gordon’s daughter. Do
