Page 5 of Seeing Grayscale

Dan's single silver cap over his left front tooth winks at me as he grins. Greasy brown hair pokes out from underneath hisbackward cap. “Unless you’re reconsidering, the motel ain’t for you. Nothing ‘round here, in fact. Go back to 2nd Street.”

That’s the thing about people like Dan. They piss on one corner and suddenly become king of an entire neighborhood. Does anyone stop it? Does anyone care? No, they fucking don’t.

I could take a bus to the next motel around here, but then I’d be caving. I’d becowering. Keeping my head down is the smart move—the safest. Bending the goddamn knee is what he wants.

Fuck what he wants. No one ever gave a shit what I wanted.

“You think I don’t see shit? Think I don’tknowwho comes and goes ‘round here, man? I see it all. And I know you got a pretty number tucked right there.” He flicks my belt, and I shove him back.

“I said fuck off, Dan. Nothing I’m doing interferes with what you’re doing.”

“We’ll see about that.”

He isn’t going to jump me right here where a shit ton of people could see and call the cops. Not that the cops would do anything for either of us besides slapping some handcuffs on our wrists and getting paid for the ticket.

I beeline for the streetlight, punching the crosswalk button, refusing to look over my shoulder. His threat isn’t unnoticed; eventually, he’ll make good on it, but I’ve got daylight on my side.

My new plan is to spite this fucker and buy two more nights.

I get across the street, my leg hurting so bad I have to lean on my right one. My foot drags across the ground dramatically, and oh, how I wish it were just that. Hopefully, two days of staying off it will help with the pain. Tomorrow, I’ll take the bus down to a pharmacy and grab some pain pills. That’s the best I can do because, as it stands currently, I’m ready to collapse.

The motel is eerily dead when I get there. Cars in the parking lot tell me people are around, but usually, they hang out outside to smoke or whatever. Not a soul is to be seen.

I pay for two more nights and hit the vending machine in the makeshift lobby, so I won’t have to leave later. Securing two water bottles and a couple of bags of chips, I tuck it all in my backpack and head outside to my room. It’s one around the backside of the motel this time.As I head that way, a door opens. Careful to avoid eye contact, I keep walking and ignore the men watching me.

Despite it being morning, the shadow of the building casts an uncanny darkness over this side, and I’m on edge. Those few guys I saw around before follow behind me.

Fuck.

My fingers shake slightly, but I hold fast to unlock the door. I hear the click, push inside, and just as I go to slam it shut, wood cracks into my face. My back lands on the stiff carpet with a muffledthud.

“Where’s the money?”

“Check his pants.”

The third man stomps his foot on my sternum while I struggle to push it off. My uninjured leg kicks out at the second as he tries to grab at my belt. The first guy shuts the door and locks it, trapping me inside. I want to fight back, but I’m so tired. I’m in so much pain. Money like I’ve got doesn’t just happen; people aren’t that generous. I’ll never see five hundred bucks again.

But I want them to take it.

Justtake itand leave me alone.

I don’t like the unhinged look in their eyes or how they're touching more than my limbs.

“Fuckers!” I roar as foreign fingers dip into my jeans, successfully snatching up my money.

“Dan said to remind you where you belong,” the first guy sneers right before kicking me in the face.

THREE

Mydadsaidtoget in touch with the local community.

It seems counterproductive because I was never a part of my local community.

Private schools, elite colleges, and a social circle that didn’t know what dirt felt like under their fingernails sum up my life. While he is off making moves to become Senator, reigning as our current governor, I’m finding our state to be as eye-opening as it is heart wrenching.

People vote, hoping it’ll tip the power scales in their favor.

It doesn’t.

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