The story of my life as seen through me. (Part two)

So here’s how things stood, our small, poor but loving family had another mouth to feed in the joyous precocious bundle of love that was my baby sister. By the time of her birth my mother and father had put behind them the fruit stand and my father had started what was to be his life long career in law enforcement, whilst my mother turned to the huge retail giant that was Sears & Robuck. He walked the mean streets of Kansas City in the endless search for crime and she worked the huge Sears sweatshop carving out wooden address numbers by hand. You know the ones, you put em over your front door and they spell out your address. I still see em all over.

But even with the new incomes the belt tightening could only go so far, because we had also moved out of the dirty second floor walkup and now resided in a small bungalow located within an enclave of police officers who lived near one of the city’s great parks. It was here that my father approached my mother with the idea that would shape my life forever. He was afraid that by living in the big city his son’s were in danger of losing their identity and their sense of self worth. So he put forth a plan to let us roam and travel free as he did as a youth, and as his father did as a youth. But my mother balked at his plan because she could not face the thought of both her boys out away from her arms roaming the world like gypsies. She pleaded with my father to let her keep one, and because he loved her with all his might, he relented and chose only one of us to go out into the world.

And soon it came to pass that with a heavy heart I stood in the front yard of my parent’s house, holding nothing but a cheap suitcase along with my father’s old hunting rifle. Standing on the porch sobbing were my mother, father, and my brother who held my baby sister in his arms. With one last look I turned around and started trudging up the dirt road to where I would meet the bus that would take me to my new world, a world of whores, pimps, booze and drugs. A world where I would have to be cunning to survive, a world where every vice was my friend, and every friend could be my enemy. But as I climbed the steps onto the bus, I felt assured that this was the right thing to do and in doing so I would insure that my family would survive. And that I would be fine, yes, I would be fine.

(to be continued)