The Back

You’d have to know exactly where you’re going to find the back entrance to Miguel’s apartment building somewhere in Midtown. It’s concealed Tetris-like in an alleyway where it intersects two disparate rear doors belonging to stores nobody ever visits. The space is narrow with random graffiti and trash cans strewn about its perimeter. For the whole nine years since Miguel moved here with his mom there’s even been a rumor that a dead body was discovered early one morning at the upper part of the passage. An urban ecosystem thrives with the best -and not so best- of what this environment has to offer. For Miguel, who is eleven, an avid reader of comics and soccer fan, this place is paradise, his favorite place in the world.

When Miguel is fully done with school he falls under the supervision of a tía who takes care of him until the early evening when his mom returns from working at a hospital. He’s allowed to go down to the alley until right before dinner which is what he does almost every day. Both tía and mom trust him to always be back on time, ready to finish homework and accompany his mom.

This one day, Miguel had finished schoolwork promptly and rushed down shortly after all the commotion had already began, stopping by the mailboxes next to the exit to open their slot and retrieve a black Moleskine notebook that he always leaves there upon returning. He’d then step out, notebook in hand, typically encountering a group of kids playing ball, a table of abuelos playing dominoes -weather permitting- and one or two grown-ups furtively smoking a cigarette against a wall. Not that day though. That afternoon as he opened the back door, he noticed the lane was almost entirely deserted. As the event unfolded, this time he wouldn’t sit against the door with the notebook -and pencil he always carries- sketching parading insects, drawing imaginary creatures or creating comic book cells based on his surroundings in this urban inner realm. It wouldn’t be this time. A sharp alarm had been going off for minutes now and there seemed to be a crescendo of car screeches and police sirens up and down the main street on the other side of the building. Miguel could feel a certain dash of boots emanating nearby but he wasn’t quite sure exactly where from. He then walked across the lane to see if he could identify anybody still strolling around and just before he was about to return, he caught the figure of a man buttoning up a colorful shirt prior to pushing what looked like an ice cream cart. One of those white, basketed push carts with bells attached to the handles full of Mexican paletas, ice cream sandwiches and popsicles. The type you’d normally see in public parks doing its rounds.

The man noticed Miguel and began pushing his cart towards him. Lean and steady in his approach, Miguel had never seen this man before. He kept coming while the ambient sounds around them grew more intense. As if peeling off his silhouette, the man’s features started becoming visible to Miguel who was alert with his surroundings and whatever was certainly going on. The incoming man seemed to be sweating but otherwise looked calm.

-Is he calling me? -Miguel pondered. He was sensing a tension like you would a sudden counter current while underwater.

-Hey, kid! -The man called out, advancing further. -Let me get to you!

Miguel wasn’t really sure what he was saying so he’d let him stroll all the way to him where he could understand him better. It’s not the first time Miguel had seen an heladero walk through here and knew this man was not a normal street vendor who’d somehow ended up in this deserted alley looking to peddle his treats. He hadn’t picked up on anything that would make him uneasy and he stayed by the door as the man finally closed in. Indeed he was sweating but he spoke calmly and in an English that wasn’t learned. There was no way this man would speak Spanish. As he was looking at his face when he talked, Miguel noticed a long strand of what appeared to be black nylon coming down from his ear and into the collar of the shirt he’d been buttoning up just a moment before. He also kept looking to his side not in a nervous manner but reflexively as if his neck hurt or expected somebody to join at any time.

-Sorry, easier to just come to you. -The man would say. -I thought I saw you wanting to check what I have in here today?

-Sure, thank you. -Miguel replied politely with a very nasal and forced inflection that left the man trying to read where this kid might be from.

The man lifted the basket’s lid and Miguel leaned into the opening peering inside.

-Don’t mind that blue bag you see in there by the way.

The man said this exactly as Miguel himself had noticed it, resting against the basket’s wall. Miguel lifted his head back to the man and looked straight at him with his brow just barely arching. The man checked his surroundings again and turned back to the kid.

-Everything is fifty cents today.

-I don’t have any money with me. -Miguel slowly answered with concentration.

The man looked at him more intently this time and proceeded with a smile.

-I can give you one of the bars for free if you want. Just pick one.

Miguel seemed to think about this and then slowly again, not without effort, asked him a question instead.

-What’s in the bag?

As soon as Miguel tendered that question the man would change his focus entirely to him. He didn’t reply right away yet his smile grew wider, an almost satisfied smile. He thought about getting in the basket and just handing Miguel one of the bars prior to continuing in his path but the man legitimately wanted to answer the question; something he would have done if not for the events that immediately followed.

A harried cop would walk into the alley from the opposite side looking more lost than anything as he surmised the area. He wouldn’t notice Miguel or the man at first and actually peered into some emergency stairs before hearing a female voice coming from the other side. Isabel Franco, Miguel´s mom, stormed into the alley noticing Miguel as the lone child in the place.

-Excuse me! -She’d say firmly, looking to get the man’s attention.

The man reacted more to her than to the fact that there were not one but two cops now on the other side of the corridor. He would remain calm as Isabel landed right next to him where Miguel could see her directly noticing the two approaching cops. The second one had joined the site more aggressively than the first, even carrying his unholstered weapon in his left hand.

Suddenly, this heladero was the least of Isabel’s problems. Cop number two was now coming at them raising his gun as if feeling threatened. The first cop would stay behind unsure of what the other one was reacting to.

-Stay right there! -The charging cop would yell. -What are you doing here?

A question intended for the man that nobody answered. He kept approaching as the weapon was being raised.

-What’s going on here?! -He insisted.

He was closer but for some reason still very hesitant to get too near. With a fully raised weapon he stopped.

-One of you will answer me now! -He added nervously.

Cop number one started a slow approach towards his partner who was now fully pointing at the man who calmly raised his hands without the need to ask. As he did this, the nylon thread fully slipped sinking into his buttoned shirt, something that both Miguel and the man noticed but the cop hadn’t. Miguel and the man locked eyes after this and very faintly, as if rehearsed, smiled at each other. Isabel noticed this camaraderie between them right away and shifted her concern over to the armed cop.

-Turn around against the wall! -He ordered the man before searching him for weapons and finding nothing. -Stay there!

-Officer, that’s… -Isabel tried to say before being interrupted.

-Ma’am, I’m going to ask you to please turn around and face the wall.

-Officer! That’s…

-Ma’am to the wall please!.

The officer searched Isabel who now fully turned against the wall right next to the man.

Stay right there and don’t move! -He ordered them before yelling out to Miguel on the other side of the ice cream cart who couldn’t see his face. -Do you know this man?

No answer. The cop started getting his handcuffs ready as he asked again, louder this time.

-Kid! Talking to you now, do you know this man?

Silence. Without cuffing them yet, the cop fully turned to Miguel who now could see his face. He noticed a strong young patrolman whose hands were actually shaking.

-Don’t play dumb with me, son. I’m asking you. Do you know this man! -He finally yelled.

Focused on the open basket lid, Miguel hadn’t really seen the man’s face as he screamed at him. The policeman waited for an answer that never came. He made a forceful move towards Miguel right as cop number one appeared and grabbed his arm preventing his fury.

-Officer he can’t hear you! He’s deaf! -Isabel was able to scream. -He’s my son. I’ve been trying to tell you. Please, all he was doing was getting some ice cream. We live here, I can prove it.

Facing the wall, the man smiled again. Wider this time.

-Kid, can you read lips? -Officer number one asked Miguel, who nodded affirmatively. -Is this all true? What your mom said?

-Yes. -Miguel managed to say, again, very nasally.

Cop number one pulled number two from the scene and responded to a radio comm attached to their shoulder.

-We’re on our way. -He responded to the radio before turning to number two. -Come on, we’re on the move again, there’s nothing here.

Number two left with a scent of suspicion still haunting him and followed number one. He had lost his cool. They turned the corner onto the main street and disappeared.

Isabel relaxed and ran to hug Miguel. Right before heading back in with him she looked at the man.

-There’s been a bank robbery over by eighth street. Some weird group of robin hood types who started doling out cash and throwing money everywhere. Cops are all over the place running crazy. -She informed. -Now get my son a paleta, OK?

Paleta in hand, Miguel walked in with Isabel. Already in the elevator he suddenly remembered.

-My notebook.

-Vamos Miguel. -She said huffing. -Go! Hurry!

Miguel returned to the alley where he immediately ran into the man. He was waiting for him with his notebook in his left hand and perfect sign language stemming from his right one. They both smiled.

-I figured you’d come back for this and I wanted to thank you. Some friends of mine did something crazy and I wanted to give you something for you and your mom.

Miguel didn’t reply but looked over as the man took the blue bag out of the cart and put the notebook inside it. He zipped it and gave it to Miguel.

-There’s twenty thousand dollars in there. For you and your mom to use carefully. -He signed to him. -And don’t worry about me. There’s a lot more out there for me. Stay safe kid, hope to see you soon again.

With this, the man pushed his cart out of the alley and for the first time rang the bells attached from the push bar, bells that Miguel couldn’t hear as he stayed looking at him before running back in with a blue bag.