Free The Set Up by Kim Karr Page B

Walls built so high, neither like to think about all the bricks that formed them.
    I might think I had an absent mother growing up, but his mother was truly never present. Even if her body was, her mind wasn’t. She was a drug-addicted prostitute who somehow managed to never lose custody of her son. Although I’m not sure that’s a good thing. Will had it tough. He was born into that life, and he was always taking care of her. Making sure she ate, bandaging her up if someone got too rough. Covering up for her neglect of him.
    “Want to tell me about the girl you were with this morning?” I ask.
    “The one I was about to take when you barged in?”
    “Yeah, that one.”
    “Nah.”
    “You’re such an asshole,” I mutter.
    With a laugh, he shoves his hands in his pockets and heads toward the crowd. “I’m going to grab some food.”
    With a raised brow I shout, “I don’t think she’s here.”
    He flips me the bird.
    I laugh. “I’ll be there in a bit.”
    I look around.
    Neither my mother nor Charlie is in sight.
    The clouds have rolled in on top of the sunny day, holding the warmth in the air and making my blood boil. Quiet for a moment, all I can do is stare up into the ever-growing cloud cover, my eyelids flickering. Thinking. Agonizing. Wrestling with how I know I should feel and how I actually do feel.
    About her.
    About my mother.
    About my father.
    My life.
    And even about Hank.
     
    It’s my birthday. I’m ten. My mother took me out for pizza and now we’re walking, walking fast. She’s been drinking. In fact, I think she’s drunk. It’s how she copes. The block is dark. All the streetlights are out. And it smells. Trash is everywhere.
    “Jasper,” she says softly.
    “Yes, Mom.”
    “We have to move.”
    “What do you mean we have to move?” I ask. “You said you had it all under control.”
    “And I thought I did. I tried, Jasper, I really did, but I lost the house,” she babbles.
    “How?”
    She starts to cry. “I just couldn’t do it alone. We have nothing left.”
    “I don’t understand. You sold everything we had. You told me we would be fine.”
    She comes to a stop. “I wanted us to be. I really did. But I can’t pay the bills and I haven’t been able to make the mortgage in almost nine months.”
    Alarmed, I look around. “Why are we here?”
    “Look.” She points.
    I look up and see a grimy brick-front building whose upper floors are scorched and boarded up from what had to be a recent fire.
    “Here, we’re moving here.”
    Cass Corridor.
    Fire Alley.
    The arson capital of the inner city is our new home?
    “Here?” I ask in shock.
    “It’s going to be fine, Jasper. Look at it like an adventure.” My mother smiles down at me.
    Cass Corridor is in the beginning stages of gentrification, my mother tells me. She says it means the area will be transformed into a nice and safe environment, and we’ll get to be right in the middle of it all and still pay a low rent. Looking around, I’m having a hard time believing it.
    She does the best she can to make our apartment nice. She quit the nursery because it was only for the summer months. Instead, she started bartending.
    She works nights because the tips are better.
    She hates it—I can tell. I hear her on the phone sometimes, saying how she can’t stand the men who put their hands all over her and how she hates that she has to let them or forgo the tips.
    I know she’s doing the best she can.
    But I’m alone a lot.
    I hate it.
    I miss Charlie.
    Until I remember I hate her.
    Then as luck would have it, a boy my age moves in next door. His name is Will. His mother is never home at night either, I think she also works at some kind of bar or club, and Will and I start hanging around together. A year goes by and the top floors of the building are finally refurbished. We have a lot of new neighbors, and Will and I meet Drew and Jake one day while skateboarding on the broken sidewalk out front.
    After pounding each other