In a small, one room apartment on the north side of Great Lakes City, Roberto slept on a small futon in the center. A TV was turned on in the corner, running the nightly news. Roberto always liked that one news guy, Jason… he was the meteorologist. About his age, except slightly better built and much better off.

Outside his window, a gunshot rang out… or a backfiring car. Both of them were viable options. The north side wasn't exactly the most glamorous place to live… with one of the highest crime rates in America, it was no surprise this apartment only cost him 20 bucks a month to rent. A steal, if you asked him.

Ring...Ring...Ring…

Roberto opened his eyes, annoyed with the sound of his cheap wall phone going off in the corner. Damn thing was usually telemarketers trying to sell him random shit… no point in ignoring it, though. For all he knew, it could be the president calling… heh…

He forced himself to his feet and walked over to the phone, forcing out words from his mouth.

"Hello?"

"Uncle Robby? Is that you?"

Roberto held the phone away from his ear in surprise, as if he couldn't believe who it was.

"Carlota?"

"Yeah, it's me!" the girl said on the other end. "I need you to come over! I need your help!"

"Seriously?" he asked, glancing at the time. "It's 4 in the morning!"

"It know, but this is really important! When can you get here?"

"I don't know! Uhhh, how about in half an hour?"

"Sounds great! See you then!"

The phone clicked, and Roberto practically threw it back onto its holder before walking away to get dressed. What in God's name could his niece need right now! The one day a week he gets off of work and he has to go there anyway…

He walked out of his apartment and out into the night, trying to remember which way the subway station was. The air wasn't too warm for a late June… around 60 degrees. Perfect for a late night walk.

He hurriedly walked past small shops and housing complexes, stepping over a few homeless people as he walked. Sounds crazy, but it was no stretch. Not only was there high crime, but the homeless situation was spiraling out of control as well.

"Ayyy, Robby! What's up, man?"

"Nothing much, Jake!" Roberto yelled to the teenager smoking a joint on his apartment step. He was a nice kid; always greeted him when he saw him. He wasn't in a good home situation, though… like pretty much every kid in this city.

Now that he thought about it… his kids were lucky. They had a pretty well off family here in the city to live with, and from what he knew, they went to a good school. He didn't have any say in his kids lives, but it seemed to him their mother was doing just fine with it. But at the same time, there was a feeling of regret in him. Why did he have to take himself out of the narrative?

he thought about all the way down the subway station stairs, as he swiped his card and boarded the train… all he wanted was to be in their lives again. Was that too much to ask?

Sure, he knew he made a mistake leaving Maria and Bobby. But now that he was trying to fix things, it made him feel a little better, at least. It was like he ran away from a fire, then ran directly back in after making it three blocks down the road…

He had to chuckle at that one. He got off the L at the 43rd Street station, walked down the stairs to the road level, and walked down the street at a brisk pace. A few moments later, he walked up the stone steps and buzzed on the door to the Casagrande apartment.

After a couple of minutes passed, Carlota answered the door, giving a small smile as she did.

"Hey, Uncle Robby!"

"Hey, kid…" he mumbled, trying his hardest not to fall down sleeping. "What's up?"

"Nothing much… I just need a little help with something. Come with me."

She turned and walked back up the stairs, Roberto following her up the flights of stairs, down the casagrandes hallway, and to her room. It was a decent sized place, but JESUS, that perfume was intense! It smelled like a mix between rose petals and lollipop shit… if that was even a thing.

"Sit down and take off your shirt."

"Alri... wait, what?" he asked, looking at his niece as if she had smacked him.

"Sit down and take off your shirt! What are you waiting for?"

"Uhh… I mean, I guess..." he stuttered, his face turning red as he peeled off his tank top. He didn't exactly have the best body, but he wasn't COMPLETELY out of shape… his muscles were all there, and his tattoos still looked like they were what they were supposed to resemble, so… yeah, he was fine.

"Hmmm… interesting," Carlota mumbled as she took out a pencil and started writing in her notebook. Roberto sat down, his face turning even redder as his niece continued to take notes on him.

"Ummm, kid? ?hat exactly are you doing?"

"Hmm? Oh, yeah!" She siad, putting down her pencil and looking at him. "So I'm taking an anthropology class right now for an extra college credit, ok? I know it sounds like I'm a nerd and stuff, but it's actually-"

"-sigh- Just get on with it, kid…"

"Alright, alright! The basic gist is that I have to write a report on body art. Specifically, tattoos. And I figured, since, well, you're the only guy I know WITH tattoos, that you could be my subject."

Roberto stared at the girl for a solid thirty seconds before slowly looking down at his chest.

"You… want ME… to tell you about my tattoos?"

"That's right!"

"...All of them."

"Yeah!"

"...ALL of them?"

"Well, duh!" she laughed, raising her eyebrows. "What else do you think I would need you for?"

"I-I don't know, an actual emergency?!" he said as his eyes narrowed. "I dragged myself out of bed at four in the morning on a Sunday so you can look at my tattoos?!"

"Yep!" She said, and without missing a beat she pointed to his left arm.

"Tell me about that one. The snake with the dagger coming out of its throat."

"Oh…" he said, staring at it for a second. "That one… I think it was from what, twenty years ago? It was a symbol for my friends that we drew growing up."

"Really?"

"Oh, yeah!" he chuckled, his angry mood being replaced with past memories. "I was what, 12? My dad called us the "Sewer Snakes" and the name stuck. The dagger isn't anything important, though. Just a little extra thing added later."

"Fascinating…" she muttered, jotting down the notes. "Now what about this one?"

It went on like this for a solid hour, with Carlota pointing out random tattoos and Roberto telling her what they meant. It was shocking, really… Roberto forget just how MANY he had. Every time he thought they were done, there was always one more to find.

It was while Carlota had him turned around when he had his first real test.

"Alright, this one. The one that has the devil rolling dice."

"Oh, that one?" He asked, looking down at the tattoo just above his naval. "Uhhh…"

"Well?" she asked as Roberto stuttered. "What is it?"

"That was… oh, geez, I don't know… maybe a…"

Carlota crossed her arms and raised her eyebrow as Roberto struggled to think up a good lie.

"Uncle Robby, what is it? A dare you lost? A personal one?"

"They're all personal!" He shot back defensively. "I just… don't feel comfortable telling you what it means."

"Oh? Why not?"

Seriously? Did this kid not get the hint? It was private buisness that she had no reason to-

"-sigh- I got it after I overdosed for the first time."

Silence. Roberto stared shamefully at thd floor as Carlota slowly realized what he had said.

"You… you use drugs?"

"I USED drugs," he corrected, composing himself as he sat up in the chair. "I was 16 and stupid, ok? My friend offered me coke and I took it, and long story short, I barely made it through that night alive. I'm not proud of it and I never will be. You happy now?"

Carlotas mouth hung open as she struggled to come up with words. Finally, she spoke, albeit much more softly than before.

"I'm… sorry," she mumbled. "I didn't know…"

"Don't worry about it, kid," he said reassuringly before pointing at the tatto again. "I got that tattoo right there to show me that you take a chance every time you do stupid shit. You roll the dice against the devil every time. It ain't worth it."

It took a moment, but Carlota looked up and sheepishly grinned.

"Well… it might be a little late for that."

"...What do you mean?" Roberto asked, his eyes raising in anticipation.

"Uhhh… I may or may not have smoked weed with Bobby a few times… just a few, though. My mom would kill me if I told her, but-"

"Kid, kid," he said, raising his hand. "Don't worry about it."

"Really?"

"Yeah!" He said, smiling. "Weed ain't THAT bad of a drug. I think the first time I smoked it was when I was… twelve, I think? It helped calm me down after school and stuff."

"Wow…" She said, placing her head in her hand. So much stuff she didn't know about her uncle… and out of nowhere he was telling it to her.

"...So yeah, stick with weed. I won't tell a soul, kid. Promise."

"Thanks, Uncle Robby," She said, leaning over and giving him a quick hug. "You're not nearly as bad as Ronnie Anne makes you out to be."

"Yeah, I know that much…" He said, chuckling. "I don't know what I gotta do to get her to like me… and kid?"

"Yeah?"

It was Roberto this time who looked sheepishly at the floor. Finally, after what seemed like hours, he spoke again.

"I… never really told anyone about my, you know, before. Not my mom, or dad, or your aunt Maria."

Seeing the shocked look on her face, he continued.

"So… can you keep that to yourself for a while? I don't really want Bobby and Ronalda knowing about that stuff yet."

"...Yeah. I think I can do that."

Roberto smiled, and Carlota smiled back. And as fast as he had come over, Roberto walked back down the flight of stairs, back out of the apartment, and back onto the subway heading northbound. It was 6:30 A.M.

He hopped off at his stop and walked back up the stairs to street level. He walked past the same shops, same housing complexes, and same cars as before.

"Yo, where'd you go, Robby?"

"Oh, just to my kids house," he told Jake as the teen sat in his usual spot. "I had a… family issue."

"I see… you wanna joint, man? I got a whole lot more stuff growing out back…"

Roberto hesitated, but only for a moment before taking the joint from the kid.

"Thanks, man."

"No problem, Berto. Anytime…"

Roberto kept walking, taking puffs and smiling all the way back… at that point, life was good. A nice change of pace, indeed...

Life was good...