Morning Errands
Jahnny stirred as a low, gravelly whisper pulled him from his sleep. “Jahnny, c’mon, boy. Get up. We got stuff to do.” The voice was his father’s—familiar, rough, and carrying a weight that always made Jahnny snap awake.
He blinked in the dim light, his eyes adjusting to the faint glow of a streetlamp filtering through the gaps in the threadbare curtains. His father crouched beside him, his face half-shadowed but still grinning that lopsided grin he wore when he was up to something.
“Why? What time is it?” Jahnny asked, his voice thick with sleep.
“Early,” Garth replied, his words a quiet rasp. He glanced over his shoulder toward the hallway, then back to his son. “We got a big day ahead, my boy. Don’t wanna waste it lying around like the rest of ’em.”
Jahnny rubbed his eyes, glancing at the door. He knew “the rest of ’em” meant his mom and sisters. They were probably still asleep in the other room, oblivious to the whispers. Lila usually wore earmuffs to sleep to try and dampen the occasional fights, so he wasn’t too worried of her waking up. He sat up, the thin blanket slipping off his shoulders. “What about school?”
Garth snorted softly, shaking his head. “School? You kiddin’ me? You think they teach anything worth a damn in that place? Nah, you stick with me, and I’ll show you what life’s really about.”
The words sounded important, like a promise. Jahnny’s chest puffed up a little, his father’s grin infectious. He swung his legs over the side of his makeshift mattress, his bare feet touching the cold floor.
“Here, throw this on.” Garth handed him a worn hoodie that smelled faintly of sweat and cigarettes. Jahnny tugged it over his head as his father tousled his hair, leaving it sticking out in messy tufts.
“That’s my boy,” Garth said with a chuckle.
They crept down the narrow hallway, the floorboards creaking faintly beneath their weight. The house was quiet save for the occasional murmur of baby Betsy in her crib and the soft sighs of Marie’s restless sleep.
Garth paused as he and Jahnny saw Clara spaced out on the couch, slowly nodding in and out of some type of state of consciousness, a sight common when her boyfriend got his check. Garth turned to his son, leaning close to whisper, “You know why I wake you up and not them, don’t ya?”
Jahnny shrugged, unsure if he should answer.
Garth crouched, his grin fading into something more serious. “Because you’re different, Jahnny. You’re not like them. Your sisters? They’re just like your ma—useless, whining, and waiting for someone else to fix their problems. They’ll end up like Clara, running off with some deadbeat who’ll knock ’em up and leave ’em. But you—” He placed a hand on Jahnny’s shoulder, squeezing just enough to make the boy sit up straighter. “You’ve got potential. You’re smart, sharper than all of ’em put together. Stick with me, and I’ll show you how to use it. You’re my right-hand man, Jahnny. You and me, we’re a team.”
The words made Jahnny’s chest swell with pride. He nodded, though he wasn’t entirely sure what “potential” meant. He just knew his father believed in him, and that felt like enough.
“Alright, quiet now,” Garth said, rising to his feet. “Don’t wanna wake the hags.”
Jahnny bit back a laugh as they tiptoed to the front door. Garth turned the handle slowly, easing it open to keep the hinges from squealing. The cool morning air hit them as they stepped outside, the door clicking softly shut behind them.
The streets of Blenc were nearly empty, bathed in the pale orange glow of streetlights. The only sounds were the distant hum of cars and the faint rustling of wind through the crumbling alleys. Garth lit a cigarette, the tip flaring briefly as he took a drag.
“Where we goin’?” Jahnny asked, shoving his hands into his hoodie pockets to ward off the chill.
“You’ll see.” Garth’s grin returned, mischievous and wide.
Jahnny fell into step beside him, his small legs working to keep up with his father’s confident stride. The world felt bigger and quieter in the early morning, and Jahnny couldn’t help but feel like he was part of something important—something only he and his dad understood.
The sun was beginning to rise as Jahnny and Garth made their way deeper into the labyrinth of Blenc’s back alleys. The air grew thicker with the smell of damp concrete, exhaust, and trash, and Jahnny could hear the faint hum of activity—voices murmuring, the occasional rattle of a shopping cart, and distant bursts of laughter that sounded more menacing than joyful.
Garth led the way, his head on a swivel as he scanned the narrow streets. Every so often, he’d stop and glance over his shoulder, his hand reaching back to pull Jahnny closer. “Stick near me, alright? This ain’t no playground.”
Jahnny nodded, his small hand gripping the hem of Garth’s jacket. The boy’s wide eyes took in everything—the graffiti that crawled up the walls like vines, the broken glass that glinted in the weak sunlight, the figures huddled in shadows smoking or counting crumpled bills.
“Where are we goin’?” Jahnny asked after a while, his voice hushed, as if afraid to break the eerie stillness of the alley.
“Just makin’ some stops,” Garth said without looking back. “Gotta check in with some friends, see what’s what.”
They turned a corner and entered a wider alley, where a group of men was gathered around a makeshift table. The table was little more than a wooden door propped up on cinder blocks, and on it lay a disorganized mess of cards, bottle caps, and cigarette butts. The men—rough-looking, with faces that seemed carved from stone—glanced up as Garth approached.
“Garth, you slimy bastard,” one of them drawled, a round man with a scruffy beard and a perpetual sneer. “Didn’t think you’d have the stones to show up here.”
“Relax, Rico,” Garth said, flashing his signature grin. “I ain’t here to cause trouble. Just thought I’d drop in, see how the game’s goin’.”
Rico’s eyes flicked down to Jahnny, his sneer deepening. “And who’s this? Bringin’ the kid around now? What kinda mess you draggin’ him into?”
“Family business,” Garth said smoothly, resting a hand on Jahnny’s shoulder. “Boy’s gotta learn the ropes someday, right? Ain’t no harm in watchin’ his old man work. Plus, the kid’s a good luck charm, aren’t ya?”
Jahnny puffed out his chest a little, trying to look tougher than he felt under Rico’s piercing gaze, nodding, unsure what was expected of him.
One of the other men, a short guy with a shaved head and noticeably large legs, chuckled. “Kid looks like he’d blow over in a stiff wind. You sure he’s cut out for this, Garth?”
“Don’t let the size fool ya,” Garth said, ruffling Jahnny’s hair. “He’s sharper than he looks. Got a good head on his shoulders, this one.”
The men exchanged skeptical looks, but Garth didn’t wait for their approval. He stepped up to the table, pulling a crumpled wad of bills from his pocket. “Alright, who’s dealin’? Let’s see if I can’t turn this into somethin’ worthwhile.”
As the game began, Jahnny stood off to the side, his eyes darting between the men and the cards. He didn’t understand much of what was happening, but he could tell by the way his father leaned forward, his grin growing wider, that things were going well—for now.
But the good mood didn’t last long.
“Damn it, Garth,” Rico hissed as Garth raked in another small pile of bills. “You’re always too damn lucky. What’s your secret, huh?”
“No secret,” Garth said with a smirk. “Just a little skill and a lotta charm.”
The other men muttered amongst themselves, their suspicion growing thicker in the air. Jahnny shifted uncomfortably, his instincts telling him this wasn’t going to end well.
As if on cue, a new figure stepped into the alley. He was tall and broad-shouldered, his face partially hidden under the brim of a battered hat. His voice was a low rumble as he spoke. “Garth.”
The tone alone made everyone at the table go silent. Garth looked up, his grin faltering for the first time that morning. “Well, if it ain’t Big Ray. Long time no see.”
Big Ray didn’t return the pleasantry. His eyes, cold and calculating, flicked to Jahnny before settling back on Garth. “You know why I’m here.”
“Now hold on,” Garth began, raising his hands in mock surrender. “I’ve been meanin’ to get you that money. Just had a few setbacks, is all.”
“Setbacks don’t pay debts, Garth,” Big Ray said evenly. “And you’re outta time.”
Jahnny’s stomach twisted as he watched the exchange. The playful charm his father had shown all morning was gone, replaced by a nervous energy that didn’t suit him.
“Look,” Garth said, forcing a grin. “I’m workin’ on it. Got a plan, a real good one. Just need a little more time, that’s all.”
Big Ray stepped closer, the menace in his presence palpable. “You’ve been sayin’ that for months. Your plans ain’t worth shit if they don’t pay up. And you know what happens to people who cross me.”
Jahnny’s heart pounded as he instinctively stepped closer to his father. Garth placed a protective arm in front of him, his grin slipping into a defiant smirk. “You wouldn’t hurt a guy in front of his kid, now would ya, Ray? That’s bad for business.”
Big Ray’s lips twitched into something that wasn’t quite a smile. “You’re lucky I got other things to handle today. But this ain’t over, Garth. Not by a long shot.”
With that, he turned and walked away, leaving the alley in tense silence.
Rico let out a low whistle. “Damn, Garth. You really know how to pick your enemies.”
Garth shrugged, trying to regain his composure. “It’s all part of the game, Rico. Now, where were we?”
But Jahnny couldn’t shake the feeling that the morning had just taken a dangerous turn. He stayed close to his father, the image of Big Ray’s cold glare burned into his mind.
After leaving the alley, Garth led Jahnny into the busier parts of Brassvale, the streets alive with a mix of early risers and those who hadn’t made it home from the night before. Jahnny’s small feet hurried to keep up with his father, who moved with purpose, his gait confident despite the tension from their last stop.
The smell of food carts and car exhaust filled the air as they weaved through the bustling streets. Garth glanced down at his son, his grin back in place. “Alright, kid. Time to make some real moves. You remember what I taught you?”
Jahnny nodded, even though he wasn’t entirely sure what his father meant. Garth had taught him plenty—most of it subtle tricks to earn sympathy or to spot someone with an easy mark’s face. “Yeah, I remember.”
“Good. Just stick by me and keep that innocent look goin’. We’re gonna hit a few spots, make enough cash to take care of a few things.”
“What things?” Jahnny asked, his brow furrowing.
“Stuff you don’t need to worry about,” Garth said, ruffling the boy’s hair. “Just do what I say, alright?”
The first stop was a small church on the edge of the district. It wasn’t Sunday, but the doors were open, and a handful of people were inside, setting up for a community breakfast. Garth put on his best humble act, pulling Jahnny closer as they stepped through the doors.
Inside, a few older women were arranging folding chairs while a man in a frayed suit stacked paper plates. The smell of pancakes and coffee filled the air, and Jahnny’s stomach growled audibly.
“Good morning,” Garth said, his voice soft and laden with faux humility. “Sorry to bother y’all, but we’re in a bit of a bind.”
The man in the suit looked up, his face creasing with concern. “What can we do for you?”
Garth sighed heavily, placing a hand on Jahnny’s shoulder. “My boy and I… we’ve fallen on some hard times. Lost our place last week, and we’re just trying to get back on our feet. Anything you can spare—food, maybe a little cash—it’d mean the world to us.”
Jahnny felt a pang of guilt as the women looked at him with pity, their kind eyes scanning his thin frame and ragged clothes. He glanced down at his shoes, which were worn but not as bad as the story Garth was spinning.
“Oh, bless your heart,” one of the women said, hurrying over with a Styrofoam plate of pancakes. “Here, sweetie. You look like you could use a good meal.”
“Thank you, ma’am,” Garth said, his eyes glinting with satisfaction as he took the plate. “You’re too kind. God bless ya.”
The man in the suit reached into his pocket, pulling out a few crumpled bills. “It ain’t much, but I hope it helps.”
Garth accepted the money with a grateful nod, slipping it into his jacket pocket. “Every little bit helps, sir. Thank you so much.”
They lingered just long enough for Garth to scoop up a few more handouts before leaving the church. As they walked away, Jahnny looked up at his father. “Why’d you lie to them?”
Garth chuckled, breaking off a piece of pancake and handing it to his son. “It ain’t a lie, kid. We’re just stretchin’ the truth a little. Times are tough, and you do what you gotta do to survive. Don’t overthink it.”
Jahnny chewed on the pancake, his mind swirling with questions he didn’t dare voice.
Their next stop was a pawn shop tucked between a liquor store and a laundromat. The windows were covered in bars, and a flickering neon sign buzzed above the door. Garth held Jahnny’s hand tightly as they entered, the bell above the door jingling.
Behind the counter stood a man with thick glasses and a cheap cigar dangling from his lips. He barely looked up as Garth approached, pulling a small bundle from his jacket.
“What’s that?” the man asked, his voice gravelly.
“Got a few watches and wallets,” Garth said, placing the items on the counter. “Real nice stuff. Figured you might be interested.”
The man picked up one of the watches, examining it under a magnifying glass. “Where’d you get this?”
“Found it,” Garth said smoothly. “Cleaned out a storage unit a few weeks back. You know how it is.”
The man snorted but didn’t press further. He set the watch down and picked up a leather wallet, flipping through it quickly. “I’ll give you fifty for the lot.”
“Fifty? C’mon, Chuck, you can do better than that,” Garth said, leaning on the counter.
“Take it or leave it,” Chuck said, already turning to walk away.
“Fine,” Garth muttered, snatching up the bills that Chuck tossed onto the counter. He stuffed the money into his pocket and gestured for Jahnny to follow him.
As they stepped back into the sunlight, Jahnny hesitated. “Those wallets weren’t yours, were they?”
Garth crouched down, his expression softening. “Listen, kid. You gotta understand somethin’. The world ain’t fair, especially to people like us. You gotta take what you can get, or someone else will take it from you first. You’ll see that someday.”
Jahnny didn’t reply, his eyes dropping to the sidewalk beneath his feet, a pink and yellow chalked bunny mixing and fading from the wetness of the morning.
The rest of the morning passed in a blur of similar stops—churches, shelters, and even a diner where Garth talked the waitress into giving them free coffee. By the time the sun was high overhead, they had amassed a modest haul of cash and food.
Garth grinned as he counted the bills in his pocket, clearly pleased with himself. “Not bad for a morning’s work, huh?”
Jahnny didn’t respond. His mind was too busy grappling with the weight of what he’d seen and heard. For the first time, he wondered if his father’s version of survival was the only way—or just the way Garth had chosen.