Walking down the street felt different to Amos now that he was armed, well, almost armed. After a long conversation Jim agreed to sell Amos the ammunition that he needed. He had first shown Amos how to load the revolver, empty the revolver and how to use the safety. He also made Amos take a dozen spent cartridges so that he could practice loading and unloading quickly without risking a misfire.

  “Now you listen good, do you hear me?” “There are no accidents when it comes to guns, just careless people making stupid mistakes, you have to know what you are doing, all of the time.” Jim went on like this for almost an hour, Amos appreciated the advice and did his best to listen and to learn.

  For as much as Jim was loath to sell the bullets to Amos, they both knew that the world had changed, and it had changed for the worse. A young teenage boy living on his own in the south side of Boston was a real target for all the wrong types of people. Jim had decided that Amos having a loaded gun for protection was a better option than not having one but just barely.

  The gun was in his backpack and the ammunition was packed away as well so even if he had needed to use the gun he was in no position to use it now. Not wanting any trouble Amos hurried along the street staying about twelve feet behind a group of housewives most likely walking toward the market he thought.

  Safety in numbers even if they don’t know that I am here Amos rationalized as he wondered how much further their routes would overlap like this. It turns out it did not matter because when Amos passed a wide set of walkup steps, three older boys who were lounging on the steps suddenly jumped up and came down the steps rapidly on a collision course aimed right at Amos.

  Amos saw their sudden movements and spun his back counterclockwise toward the street as he turned to face them. This was a move he had practiced on the rooftop, and he used an exaggerated sweep of his left hand to distract from his right hand reaching into his pocket to grab the baton. The oldest and largest looking boy seemed like he would be the first to reach Amos. Steady, steady thought Amos, wait until he is close enough and then attack suddenly.

  “What’s the hurry” said the older boy “stay right there, we need to inspect your bag for stolen goods, we’ve had lots of thefts here lately.” I need to stall, get in a better position and ready to run Amos realized in a flash as he sized up the situation. Amos started to back up holding out his left hand and he tried to speak with a higher pitched voice. “Leave me alone, just leave me alone, I am waiting for my mom.”

  “No can do” said the older boy, “you also need to pay us a fee to pass through our hood and unless your mom’s gonna pay it for you then she won’t be much use to you. Now let’s start with that bag” and with that the older boy suddenly reached out for the knapsack on Amos’s back.

  “Thwack” the poor older boy never got a chance to grab Amos or his bag as Amos brought the baton out of his pocket, up and then down with the hard end extending and smashing into the older boy’s thigh. He collapsed with an agonized howl and while his other two companions suddenly froze and looked stunned Amos decided that now was his chance to flee.

  “Get him, stop him” yelled the two other boys as Amos took off down the street. Who are they yelling to he wondered as he pumped his knees up and extended his legs out to get the maximum distance he could between the boys and himself. To his horror, he saw more boys stand up on a set of steps across the street and then quickly join the two boys hot on his heels less than half a block behind.

  Now that he was being chased Amos no longer cared about just blending in, he needed to disappear but how could he do this in a wide-open street?

  He turned at the first corner he came to and ran in the opposite direction from the boys across the street who had joined in the pursuit. There are at least five now thought Amos I can’t fish out the gun in time and it won’t be loaded anyways. There are too many for me to use the baton so I have to disappear.

  His breath was already becoming a bit ragged; it was the excitement and the suddenness of the chase. He would be tired soon, and he felt certain that a few of his older pursuers would easily run him down.

  There was no help for him on the street. The streets of the South Side of Boston have always been rough, and you had to tough things out on your own. In these new and difficult times if you were in distress people would almost always avoid you on the street. Whatever troubles you had, no one wanted to share them with you or get caught up in your problems.

  I have to find an escape, a hiding spot, I need to throw them off. Luckily for Amos it was a short block, and he sped up, determined to buy a little time once he rounded the next corner to disappear. At first nothing stood out as an option for him, the block was mostly three-story, grimy brick residential buildings with open staircases, locked doors and gated basement entries.

  His breath was fast and uneven now and his chest was heaving, after the fourth building instead of another basement walkup there was a small restaurant on the main floor. Amos lunged for the door, silently praying that it would open when he grabbed the handle and pushed.

  If you encounter this tale on Amazon, note that it's taken without the author's consent. Report it.

  Thank God he thought as he stumbled in and pushed the door shut without even looking around his survival instincts, already in high gear, had him fumbling for the lock while flipping the open sign over to closed. After locking the door, he sank down low beneath the window in the door and turned to face the open room of the restaurant.

  “Get out” hissed a small, uncertain voice. Amos looked in the direction of the voice in the dimly lit dining room and he saw a young girl who looked to be his age. She was clutching a kitchen knife in one hand and standing in the doorway looking both scared and angry at the same time. “I said get out; I will stab you if you come near me” she said in a slightly stronger voice.

  Amos held out his hands while looking at her. She was smaller than he was with a slight build, her dark hair was pulled back in a messy ponytail and her eyes radiated anger and intensity. She was wearing an oversized apron that was so large for her it was almost comical, but her fierce expression gave her childish appearance a maturity well beyond her age. “I won’t hurt you; I am not here to steal, I want to leave as soon as I can.”

  Amos was trying to dismiss all of the most common fears one has with strangers while looking as honest and non-threatening as possible. “Please, please help me. There were five boys chasing me and this was the first hiding spot I could find.”

  “You can’t stay here” the girl said, “the boss is coming back any second and if he finds you here, he will hurt you worse than they will.” “You have to believe me, you have to go now, go before he comes back.” Amos felt instinctively that she was telling the truth, whomever this guy was, he was most likely a nasty piece of work and no one tolerated strangers anymore.

  You can’t go out there, you hurt one of those boys, they will hurt you far worse and take everything from you. Amos turned and crawled away from the door and stood up by the wall beside it. He turned to the girl and said, “can I just wait a moment, maybe I have lost them and….”

  The lock rattled behind Amos and the door started to shake as someone started pulling on the handle and then banging on the door with balled fists just moments afterwards. “Let us in, we know he is in there” called out a voice. Another voice joined in with a mocking, singsong quality to it “let us in…we just want the bad little piggy, let us in.” The girl stared at Amos, now wide-eyed with fear “oh no, oh no, what have you done” she moaned.

  An older, deeper voice, much louder but fainter due to the distance shouted out from down the block. “Hey, you little thieves, get away from my restaurant, get away.” The girl started to wring her hands with fear. “Oh no, oh no, my boss is back, he is going to be so mad at me now.” Solve the first problem, solve the first problem Amos took a deep breath and spoke rapidly and firmly to the girl. “We have no time, let me out the back and your boss won’t see me here.”

  Amos started across the restaurant floor with his hands still outstretched in a “I mean no harm” gesture. He hoped that the boys outside were now looking at the source of the yelling coming down the sidewalk. “Let me out the back door and then tell your boss you saw those boys coming through the window so you locked the front door to stop them.”

  Amos saw at first confusion and then relief in the girl’s expression. She lowered the knife and said “there is a door in the kitchen to a courtyard out back but the gate is locked and you can’t get out. “I have climbing gear” Amos replied, “I’m going to get out, go to the front and let your boss in. When he gets inside, don’t worry, he won’t find me back there.”

  He quickened his pace across the small dining room and passed the girl in an awkward fashion, she still clutching the knife and looking at him with mistrust and fear but standing aside to let him pass at the same time. “Thank you” said Amos as he passed her and stepped into the kitchen, completely unprepared for what he saw next.

  He stopped and stared, his mouth falling open and his mind racing through a number of possibilities. Huddled at the end of a narrow, dirty kitchen were two young Indian boys. They were wearing dirty white pants and t-shirts, and they had apparently been peeling onions that were piled on a narrow steel counter. The boys were looking at Amos with fear and confusion.

  Amos saw to his horror that both boys had a small metal bracelet and chain fastened to one of their legs and it trailed off underneath the table they were working at. Prisoners, what are they doing here, what is this place? More yelling from the front of the restaurant jolted him back to the present moment. “Alanah, are you in there, let me in” demanded the loud voice now much louder and right at the front door. “Open the door now.” Amos turned to the rear of the kitchen, located the courtyard door and pushed his way out into a small, dirty courtyard enclosed by brick walls and then a small metal gate at one end with a very big chain and padlock interwoven through the bars.

  Amos evaluated his options, there was really nowhere to hide in this small courtyard and if he was discovered here then he was trapped. The kind of person who chains young boys to a table is not going to treat you kindly at all, get moving. There was a battered old downspout clinging to the wall, he walked over and gave it a tug, part of it came loose at once showering him with dust and rust flakes as he moved the pipe. “No good” he muttered aloud and then he saw it, a slender gas pipe that went up along the brick wall, all the way up three stories and onto the roof. This pipe was much stronger and firmly fastened to the wall.

  He stepped onto the gas meter and then used his hands to walk up the wall. The pipe was set a few inches away from the wall allowing easy handholds and his feet took most of the weight off of his arms. A minute later he was on the rooftop, lying on his back, exhausted and completely fatigued from all of the adrenaline that had been coursing through his system during the last ten minutes.

  He tried to process what he had just seen. The thuggish street boys were nothing new, he just had to watch out for them and be better prepared next time. What he had just seen in the restaurant weighed on his mind heavily. Who owned this place and what are they doing to that girl and those two boys? Why would she be more frightened of her boss than a gang of hoodlums banging on the door?

  He had seen what he had seen, these kids needed help, and he slowly realized that he might be the only one that would help them. The police could not be trusted these days, they were often corrupt and on the take, and they might just make him a target instead if he went to them for help. No, he had to figure out how to help these kids and he had to do it soon. After what he had seen he knew he had to do something, there was no turning back.