Game

A small stone, just big enough to fit inside a man’s fist, skidded on the dirt road. It rolled clumsily forward, slowing. Then it stopped, barely bumping a rock already lying on the road, previously subject to the same treatment.

“Aha, I win!” Sandy hollered, kicking dust off the road with his foot and spinning away from his friends. The dark emptiness of an old inn stared back at him through a broken window. But on either side, the buildings were dimly lit, and residents slept soundly at this late hour.

“Shut up.”

“Ain’t so funny now, eh, Steve?” A boy in a plaid jacket chuckled, nudging the loser with his elbow.

“Well I woulda won, but for this…damn wind, or lack of it.” Steve looked grudgingly at the dark, cloudless sky, as if cursing it for this treachery that lost him a game.

“Well cough up them smokes and put ‘em right here.” Sandy grinned and leaned gracefully forward, holding out his open palm.

Steve faked a laugh and dug into his pocket, producing an old pack of cigarettes. Sandy grabbed them from him at first sight. “Thank you very much.”

“Toss another round? Let me win ‘em back?” asked Steve, coldly.

“Fall asleep and dream about getting these back, pussy,” Sandy replied, coolly, whipping out a lighter and sticking a prize in his mouth.

His other friend laughed heartily and the two moved forward, ignoring Steve. Sandy kicked the rocks out of the way and blew smoke into the air.

Through the smoke and hazy light from a nearby streetlamp, he squinted and saw a figure down the road, walking in his direction. An unfamiliar figure, with the look of someone who wasn’t from New York; the boy glanced uncomfortably at the buildings around him as he went.

“Hey!” called Sandy, waving some of the smoke out of his face with a free hand. “You there!”

The boy stopped in his steps, suddenly on his guard. New place, new people, got to be careful.

“Yeah?” he called.

A smile curled at the edge of Sandy’s lips and he picked up his pace; the friend followed his lead; he heard Steve trudging along behind him, also moving faster. Not six feet away from the boy, Sandy slowed and commented, “You look new here.” He paused and smiled warmly, not wanting to scare him off; certainly he looked imposing to the boy, with his two friends flanking him. “The name’s Sandy.” He held out his hand.

The boy’s eyes flickered to Sandy’s companions, then back to Sandy. He swallowed and smiled a little, still seeming unsure. “Jeremy.” He shook the produced hand. “It’s obvious, isn’t it?”

“Sure, but it’s no problem.” Sandy puffed on his cigarette momentarily and blew out smoke again, as he continued, “Newbies ain’t detested here, like in some places. You go to Brooklyn, you’ll have problems, sure, but here it’s not so bad.”

“Right,” said Jeremy. He paused. “You got a job?”

Sandy nodded. “Factory and odd stuff, like everybody else.”

“Think they’ve got an opening?” Jeremy smiled awkwardly. “I’m short on cash and I’ve been looking around, but everything’s either closed or kicked me out.”

Sandy laughed. “Sure, in the middle of the night. Yeah, I might be able to help you out there, though. At a more reasonable hour.” He paused, considering. “Meet me in a couple hours at old Peter’s lodge. You look low on sleep, too.”

“Suppose I am,” Jeremy chuckled, backing up as he prepared to walk away.

“Okay, see ya later then.” Sandy smiled, throwing his cigarette in the dirt and squishing it with his foot. "Don't oversleep."