The extra income stopped coming in, but the huge bills didn't.
I started collecting scraps after work.
I'd pile them up neatly in a corner until the end of the day, then carry them home.
Every weekend, I'd take the pile to the scrapyard.
I would sell them and keep the money specifically for rent.
I know it won't pay the whole rent, but it willl pay more than half of the rent.
Despite this, my search for a lucrative source of income never stopped.
One evening, I was heading home after work.
My head hung low as I walked.
My mind was filled with thoughts of finding a second job.
It would have to be something at night, something less physically demanding since the construction work was already wearing me out.
I knew the pay wouldn't be much, nowhere near enough to cover the mounting expenses I face. But what choice did I have?
As I trudged along, lost in thought, I noticed him again, a guy perched casually on the hood of his car.
He was dressed sharply in clean clothes and expensive sneakers.
I saw him there almost every day, morning and evening.
Sometimes he would be alone; other times, a group of guys would be with him.
Right now, he was perched on the hood of his car with two other guys, laughing about something. People came to him constantly.
Some walked up hesitantly, while others pulled up in cars. I'd seen homeless folks approach him, young women, boys, all kinds of people.
They always leave quickly, after some sort of exchange.
Nobody ever said what he was selling, but it wasn't hard to figure out.
I'd assumed from the start that he was a drug dealer.
I stopped a few steps away, staring at him from across the street.
He didn't look like someone who was struggling. He didn't look like me. For him, life seemed easy.
I tightened my fists, said to myself. I had to do something to save my Mom.
I crossed the street and walked toward him. This guy might be my chance.
"Hey," I said, walking up to him. "You're in the business, right?"
Then he looked at me, annoyed. "Who's asking?"
"Name's Luis," I replied. "I live around here. I've seen you. I need work, man. I can help you."
He laughed. "You? Help me? What can you do? You're just some kid off the street."
"I'm smart, I'm fast, and I know this area better than anyone. I'll prove it to you."
The guy jumped down from the hood of the car and leaned against the car. "Alright, prove it by getting lost.
They burst out laughing.
'My dad's dead,' I said, my voice trembling with a mix of anger and despair. 'My mom will be soon if I don't do something about it. She's critically sick, and I'm the only hope she has of raising money for medication."
I paused, my chest tightening as I fought to hold back tears. "I should have finished high school by now. But here I am, scrambling for money wherever I can find it."
I shook my head, taking a step back. "But this... this is the life I got handed."
Without waiting for a response, I turned and walked away, my footsteps heavy with frustration and helplessness.
I didn't hear them laughing anymore, but I didn't care.
"When I was far enough away that they couldn't see me clearly, I heard someone call out my name."
"Hey, Luis!"
I stopped and turned around. One of the guys who'd been sitting with the guy I assumed was a drug dealer was jogging toward me.
"You walk fast, dude, he said, slightly out of breath. "Do you know I had to run to catch up with you? Listen, Arlo isn't the guy you need."
I frowned. "Arlo? Who's Arlo?"
"The guy you asked to work for earlier. He's not who you need, he's not the boss," the guy replied.
We ended up standing there, talking for more than five minutes.
His name was Malik. He still has both his parents and his family is doing well financially. But that didn't matter to him.
Malik wanted independence. He said he found street life more "real" than the world he grew up in, which he saw as fake and sheltered.
"I can help you meet the boss," he said after a moment. "His name is Vigo Alejandro. But just because you meet him doesn't mean he'll like you. Still, he might, you never know."
Malik asked for my phone number, I didn't have a phone on me at the moment.
So, I gave him the email address on the family computer we had at home. Emilio usually used it for his homework.
"Alright," Malik said. "I'll email you when everything's ready, and we'll go see Vigo. Oh, and you should try and be with your phone all the time. We're not in the '80s anymore."
I nodded, watching him jog back toward the group.
I turned and kept walking, my mind Teeming with thoughts.
"I was lost in thought, having a conversation with myself."
"I knew getting involved with drug dealers was risky, but the thought of finally having enough money to take care of Mom clouded my judgment."
"How much will I be making?" I wondered.
Malik didn't give much details.
I am sure Working for vigo will be risky, but anything for mom and Emilio.
That's when I remembered I promised Emilio pizza tonight because he passed his math test.
He worked so hard for that test, and I wasn't about to let him down.
I spotted the pizza place up ahead.
The smell hit me before I even stepped inside, warm and cheesy with a hint of garlic.
The place wasn't busy, just a couple of people sitting at tables, eating and chatting.
I walked up to the counter, leaned on it like I had a long day, which I did, and ordered.
"Large Pepperoni pizza with extra cheese," I said, my voice steady. "For my little brother. He's a cheese lover."
The cashier smiled, typed it in. "Anything else?"
"No, just that," I said, pulling out my wallet. The price stung, but it was worth it. Emilio deserved it.
I waited a few minutes, standing by the counter while they made it.
My mind drifted back to Vigo.
What would working for him even look like? Would I have to do...things? Dangerous things? But then I thought about the money.
The idea of finally having enough to keep the lights on without stressing over the bills... It was tempting.
"Order up!" the cashier called.
I grabbed the box, felt the warmth of it through the cardboard, and paid before stepping back out onto the street.
I carried the pizza like it was something precious because it was.
Emilio's smile flashed in my mind.
He'd probably dive right in, pulling a slice so the cheese stretched, smiling like he'd just won the lottery.
That thought made me smile, as my feet carried me closer to home.