Eric, Stevie, Paul, Willie, Mike, Randy, and Cedric, had spent the entire day downtown, and they had a blast. They went to McDonald’s, and to one of the candy stores, and hung out in the game room, and went to the movies, and sat through Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid twice, went and ate again at Big Boy’s, and went to the comic book store, and got caught up on the latest Mad Magazine, and all of the latest comic books.
While they were running around having so much fun, they forgot to keep track of the money they had, and by the time they were ready to go home, not one of them even had the dime left that it would take to ride the bus. “Man! What are we gonna do?” Willie asked. “We don’t have a choice.” Eric said. “We have to walk.” “Walk!” they all said in unison. “That’s like five miles.” “I know how far it is.” Eric replied. “But what choice do we have?”
So they started out. “Twenty-five miles from home girl.” Paul started singing. “My feet are hurtin’ mighty bad.” “Shut up, with your non-singin’ behind.” Eddie said. Then Stevie started. “It’s your thing. Do what you wanna do.” Everyone joined in. They continued walking down the street singing their favorite songs.
Time seemed to pass quickly as they continued on. They passed dozen’s of stores, and they sure wanted to go in and get some chips or candy, or something to eat, but of course none of them had any money left. It didn’t matter though. They were having plenty of fun.
“Hey. I’m gonna try and thumb a ride.” Eric said. They still had a few miles before they got back to the neighborhood. “Man, nobody’s gonna pick up your ugly behind.” Willie laughed.
As they continued down the street Mike stopped dead in his tracks. “Aw Man!” He cried out. Everyone stopped and looked at him. “What’s wrong with you?” They all said in unison. “Look where we’re going, and where we gotta go past.” It took a second to sink in, and then they all groaned. “That’s trouble. I don’t wanna go past there.” Randy said.
They were talking about 46th Street. The infamous 46th Street. It was one of the seedier streets in town, if not the seediest. It wasn’t so much the massage parlors, X-rated movie theaters, drug peddling, and prostitutes that the guys were worried about. It was the street gangs. There were gangs lined all up and down 46th Street, and they were pretty tough. They were constantly fighting because they were in such close proximity to each other.
“Man, what are we gonna do?” Paul chimed in. “I ain’t trying to get jumped!” The group tried to put their heads together to come up with a plan, but they couldn’t think of anything. From where they were, the only way to get back to the neighborhood was to go past 46th Street. “I hate to say this.” Eric said, “But the only way is to go back downtown, and go down Broadway. That way, we won’t have to go past 46th Street at all. They all let out a collective groan. That would take forever. “My parents will kill me if I come walking in the house real late.” Randy said.
It didn’t seem like they had much of a choice though. Either head back downtown, and go home a different way, or risk a possible beatdown. The guys were no slouches, but those gangs along 46th Street were no joke, plus they were all older than them too.
As they turned around to head back downtown, all of a sudden, they hear someone honking a horn. At first, they didn’t pay much attention to it. The street they were on was pretty busy, but the horn kept honking. They looked up, and a black pick-up truck pulled over to the side of the street. “What are you rookies doing over here!” It was Aaron.
They all knew Aaron from the neighborhood. He was in college, and he had also helped coach their park board 6th grade football team. “Do you knuckleheads know where you are?” He yelled at them. They started to respond. “Just shut up and get in the truck.” Aaron said, while giving them a stern look. They all piled in the back of the truck, relieved that their journey was over. Of course, now that they were all safely in the truck, and headed home, there was a little trash talk about what would’ve happened to those 46th Street chumps, if their paths had crossed, but in reality, they were all very relieved that their paths didn’t cross.