by N. Fabal
Name?s Guapo, I run the streets around here. From the Sedanos on Palm to the Red White and Blue thrift, from Mango Hill to Milander, from Westland Mall to ?ooo Que Barato!, that?s right I run this shit. The Fat Man, he?s got a different name for me, he calls me Wally or some shit, but screw that. And don?t you let me catch you repeating it either. While you and your little honey and your annoying little brats are snug asleep in your beds, me and my homies run these streets. We come and go as we please wherever, whenever we want. Whether we?re looking for some bones to chew or some bitches in heat, we always got some place to be or someone to see. Yea, that dog you hear barking in the distance in the dead of night?.yea that?s me.
Y?see some people freak out and act all crazy when they see me and my other homeboys roaming the streets at night. They?re all like ?Oh my god, that?s so dangerous, someone should do something, put those nasty things away!? But you see, people like that, they don?t understand our lives, they don?t understand what it means to live how we live. They?ve never felt that kind of freedom, never enjoyed it the way we enjoy it. They?re envious of our ability to come and go as we please, with none to call master. Whether two legs or four, there are very few like us, who answer to no one. In a way, we?re pioneers, true innovators who really know how to think outside the box, or cage for that matter.
But that?s us man, me and my boys, we roam anywhere in this fabulous city of ours, Hialeah, and while you naked apes are getting your beauty rest so you can go slave in a box for 8 hours the next day, I?m out there man, roaming the streets, making sweet love to the night, pooping in your yard. I know this town like I know the back of my paw, I know things about this town you people will never know. In fact, I know a few things about you mister. Yea that?s right, I?ve been crawling thru your trash bins, I know what you throw away. I can see thru your windows at night, that?s some freaky shit you and the misses are up to. I mean us dogs, we hate having leashes on us, but you freaks like to put them on yourselves! For you see, when night falls and all you neanderthals are fast asleep, the city truly comes alive, the real soul of the city emerges from the shadows, but only for the brave, chosen few who find solace in the night.
And in the end, I may not really know where I?m going, but I know I?m getting there fast.
Nestor Fabal is working on his first collection of short stories about the town where he?s? from, a place called Hialeah. Hialeah is a very special place filled with very special people. In a way, you could just say that Hialeah is not unlike any other town in any other part of the world. But who are we kidding? Hialeah is a very odd place filled with the oddest people you?ll ever meet. And to the author, that just about sounds like home.
Richard Edwards has a BFA in Creative Writing and Journalism from Bowling Green State University and an M.S. in Education from the University of Akron. Managing editor of Drunk Duck, poetry editor for Prairie Margins, reporter for Miscellany, Akron Journal, Lorain Journal, and The BG News. He has also worked as a professional writer and editor in the medical publishing industry for several years. For the last 15 years Richard has also taught literature and writing at the secondary and post-secondary levels. He works much of the time with at-risk students.