Inky darkness spread over the cityscape like inescapable oil outside my bedroom window. I want to go for a walk and never return, to be constantly isolated in the middle of nowhere with only myself and the dazzling stars. I would climb the fire escape and lay on the roof all night long until the sun peeked out of the wispy clouds, but the dog's comfortable slumber on my lap kept me firmly sitting on my bedroom floor, leaning against the stark walls. I stayed like this all night until the dog stirred a minute before it officially became the next day.
"Hey buddy" I whispered to the Doberman hovering by my shoulder, stroking his silky fur. Spade leaned against me, nuzzling my hand for a belly rub. I obliged for a minute or two until I rose to my feet and snapped for Spade to follow me. Together, we snuck out the front door, ignoring the woman asleep on the couch, and down the back steps of the apartment building. I could never come or go in the front, because Billy, the owner, had a No-Pets policy, but he let my violation slide if I kept Spade's presence on the down-low.
The ally that our apartment faced was barren save for the rats that Spade ignored dutifully, following me and living up to his reputation as a 'tough guy'. We came to a street which could take me to a forlorn park or a pool hall, depending on which way I turned; I began the short walk to Danny's Bar with Spade's soft patter of paws on pavement as he trotted by my elbow.
The pool hall was rightfully empty, as it should be at this hour, but the bar next door had a few loyal alcoholics nursing their beers and vodkas. A annoyed voice said, in the coarse accent that followed native New Yorkers like a plague, "You thinkin' of getting a beer or something?"
I saw Danny cleaning glasses and tumblers the way bartenders are liable to be doing, and scowled. "Something like that" I replied as I took a seat and Spade lay his body by my barstool. The only reason Danny wasn't already throwing me out head over heels onto the street was because nobody was in, much less a plainclothes cop. He was real strict about minors in his bar, but every once and awhile he'd let me hustle pool. Surprisingly, though, he never seemed to mind Spade in his bar.
Danny set a cold beer in front of me with calloused hands. "This isn't gonna be a habit. Think of it as a last drink or somethin'" he grunted, not looking at me. I've known Danny Fitzgerald for a few years, and ever since his mom took his baby sister with her to Washington he's had a soft spot for me. I sipped my beer, relishing the fact that not only did Danny offer it to me, but it was also free. Usually if I had a mind to drink I had to find a willing man to buy for me.
"Tell me again why you're leavin" he grumbled. Out of all my expectations for my limited interaction with him, this question was not one of them. I looked at him, him staring at me with mournful eyes that many night-wanderers inherit. Theres a quality about the night that makes everything wistful and deep, drowning almost.
"Oh, you know. It's Rob" I say flippantly, trying to make my beer last longer so I'd have an excuse to talk with him. There was a part of me that really liked Danny, that looked up to him and relished the fact that he was paying me leftover attention in the middle of the night. His eyes narrowed, his suspicion only growing.
"What about Rob?" he prompted. I drained the last of my drink, focusing on the drunkard who had fallen asleep, his remnants of whisky still gone untouched.
"I guess he's been beating her is all. Now she wants to move". Even I could detect the bitterness in my voice when I thought of the screw up my mother was. She's always been this way - addicted to bad relationships, and deciding to play the blame game when she got what was coming to her.
"Don't hate her" Danny pleaded when I shoved my empty glass towards him.
"I don't" I lied. I occupied my time, smothering my insomnia, the rest of the night by playing pool against myself, and when Danny ventured over, I played with him.