"The Hand is Quicker than the Eye"

So said two men I talked to today.I didn't get why they said that. That's because I was the typical outsider who didnt' have a clue with what the hell was going on. I usually don't. By this point the fact that I wasn't from around here was clear. But I never care about that when I come down here. So much goes on here, I feel like anything goes, people here have probably seen it all. Although as I think about it now, a young woman rockin an Occidental College bright orange/black umbrella and a matching beige/orange Oxy bag, probably looks mad weird walking around Skid Row. But whatever, I didn't care about my appearance, for the moment.

I was looking for my godfather, he was no where to be found again. I hung around his building hoping to get clues. After being rejected by a woman who refused to help, she closed the door in my face telling her friend, “she wants to get inside, but i’m not letting her in” Another man inside saw this and came out to ask, “who you lookin for?” I told him the room number and name of my godfather, he says, “go on out, back there, I’ll go upstairs and check” I leave and close the door behind me. Just then another guy comes out, “Who you lookin for?” I tell him the name of my godfather, “Tall?, he says “yeah” I reply. He said he hadn’t seen him in a while. The guy who went upstairs comes down. They began to tell me more. He had disappeared for about a week now, which is strange because they see him everyday. I begin to start asking these two questions, hoping to know more. “Hes probably in jail” they say. In my head i think “ i guess that’s what people usually assume when a community member disappears.”

Then I remember a conversation I had with my godfather, “here no one notices when you’re gone.” It seems to be different, for my godfather, which doesn’t surprise me. One of the guys is a 54 year old man. Said he had been selling DVDs with my godfather but my godfather hadn’t return to get his money. The other dude, who turned out to be 48 but looked 30 sees my reaction and in his attempt to comfort me says, “He’s a good man, from what I have observed, he doesn’t bother anybody, he’s the type of person a lot of people around here look up to” he tells me. I half smile, I’m not surprised. We talk some more. “What happened to you?,” I ask. How did you end up here” “Prison, he said, “I had to start all over” “I have 9 sisters” Where do they live?” He describes where they live, some in Compton, Some in Riverside, some in Fontana. I have no idea where Fontana is. In the middle of our talk, a man began to yell at us, the 48 year old man yelled back, “go on, get out of here, we’re having a decent conversation.” When the 48 year old runs him out, the 54 year imparts some advice, “just dont’ pay attention to em, and they’ll leave” the younger man responds, “I garuantee if I hadn’t told him all that, he’s still be here talkin” They go back and forth discussing the better option, ignoring him, or yelling back at him. My mind is blank, “where is he?” I stand there hoping for the slightest clue. I want to charge my phone, its been dead since last night, and I had just bought a charger. I guess I was desperate to call someone here a familiar voice. I ask them if they could let me in the building, “you have to be someone’s guest, they have to sign you in” one guy says, “just ask the woman” I refuse “ you go to open your mouth, just ask” We enter the building, him more determined than me. I’m overpowered by reluctance because I know she’ll say no. She says something else but basically its a no.

I go back outside, and stand around some more. But then I think I’ve overstayed my welcome and I leave. I run into a young woman that says, “Hi drea” I think I might of met her before, I feel bad I don’t remember her name, maybe she’s seen my godfather. “Wheres ____?” “He in jail,” she replies matter of fact. “how do you know that?” “he had a warrant, he was in the park they drove by and saw him” it begins to rain i open my umbrella, “what was your name again” i feel so bad she knew my name and i didnt’ know hers “_________”, she says. She was standing with a friend “Whats your name?” “__________” she continues looking down. I ask some dumb questions “Did he resist?” She chuckles, “no, why would he?” I feel stupid for asking. Wow, now I definitely feel like I should go, The difference becomes salient, I'm not from here. I don't speak the language, I don't look the part, etc. Maya lowers her umbrella and looks away. At the risk of asking more dumb questions I decide to leave Skid Row, sad, and defeated. I have no hope to hang onto, as I have discovered my godfather's whereabouts. But I cant’ ask why. I remember what one of the men said “He’s a strong man, He can take care of himself. I look back at where my godfather lives, and I want to believe that’s gonna be the case. I got to pray up for him. I look back and see the view below. I don't know the next time I'll return.