Ksssssshhhhk, Ksssssshhhhk, Ksssssshhhhk,
The soft hissing of the spray paint bottles broke the almost stillness down the alleyway. There was still the hum of the midnight traffic, the gentle sounds of the nightlife, but back here it was almost silent, almost pitch black except for the one light coming off the back porch of the Grandma Nelson's apartment house- it was a ancient outlier in the city, when the neighborhood wasn't so poor, a big rambling Victorian, it's front porch long gone, it's back porch hanging on at a crazy angle, half of it collapsing into the packed dirt yard between the house and the cinder block wall of the row of stores and houses behind.
It was here in this yard, behind this house, and against this cinder block wall that Luke had set up shop. His backpack sat on the hood of the old Chevy on blocks- when was the last time it had ever driven on the road? Luke had a suspicion One of the Roosevelts were in office then. and across the hood he had laid the rainbow colored cans of spray paint, the water bottle and the now open bag of gummy bears.
Ksssssshhhhk, Ksssssshhhhk, Ksssssshhhhk, with each hiss a new swath of color was added to the wall
“Now Child,” Grandma Nelsons's high wavering voice broke through his focus and he turned to look back- there she was in her frumpy nearly threadbare pink housecoat, loafer slippers and her hair, neatly wound around the pin curlers, that were hidden behind a turban of toilet paper- a trick to perfect curls that Grandma Nelson swore by. “Now Luke baby I want that to be tasteful back there, I have little ones living in the upstairs apartment- the one with the big picture window they can see right into this yard. I don't want you painting something bad back here for the babies to see.” She smiled, clutching her whiskey glass to her chest- her nightcap of the last forty-something years- a couple fingers of Jack Daniels, and exactly three ice cubes. “I hate that ugly old wall... never liked it when the built the row back in the day, I used to have climbing flowers, ivy and sweet peas growing on it, but my knees can't take gardening no more....” She took a sip, “You're a sweet boy for making my wall pretty again. I remember the garden I had back here- My mama had one before me. Big old victory garden during the war you know. Daddy got some big old barrels from the pickle factory he worked in, he sawed them in half and Mama, Daddy, my brother Charles and I all planted a big old garden- it was good eatin.” she sighed again at the memory, that was when the house was a fresh white, not the dirty drab gray, the grass was always neat, the flower boxes never weedy and the windows weren't covered in tinfoil to keep out the drafts. “Those were the good old days....” she mused as she shuffled back into the house, “you have a good night Luke baby-and be safe!”
He waved as she shut the door, and he heard the chink of the lock turning, she switched off the back porch and he was left alone with his paints, the wall, and the darkness. It didn't bother him though, he was used to it, it was comforting- and if one could see in the dark like himself, it didn't bother you much. He turned back to his painting, adjusting the respirator over his nose and mouth, indestructible as he was, his asthma and the fumes from the paint can's were not a good mix, besides he didn't want Miss B. getting mad at him again for damaging his lungs- he already did that once this week, two was pushing his employers good graces.
He added an artistic dash of purple before the sounds of footsteps made him pause- someone was coming down the alley.
A knight in shining armor is a warrior who has never had their metal truly tested
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