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The alley was black behind the late-hours jazz club save for a narrow slit at the bottom of a heavy steel firedoor bolted against the night. The door had one fist-sized hole in the lower left pane of glass which at one time had been painted over to prevent anyone looking into the cabaret. Through these two apertures washed the only light visible at this hour -- a single narrow splash illuminated the puddles of an earlier rain directly outside this door, another horizontal column of yellowish hue which just then illuminated a bedraggled, wet and emaciated alley cat as it slunk in total silence down this filthy passageway, every sense alert for danger. A brief moment in the shaft of light, then it was gone. The few sounds of human activity in the vicinity were muted at this hour; even the raucous jazz club was winding down for the night. From somewhere farther down the black tunnel between blind rear walls abutting the cracked and weed-infested concrete of the alley came a hacking cough, one that went on interminably, followed by a guttural curse, another cough, and then silence again. There apparently was at least one homeless man living among the debris of cartons and boxes in this alley. An odd sound, at first almost inaudible, began in the distance. As it increased in volume it became more irritating, rasping. The cat, back again at the very edge of the light from the broken window, fixedly watched the mouth of the alley as it was dimly outlined by a streetlight too far down the block to shed any appreciable light farther inside the narrow entry. Without taking his eyes off the direction of the grating screech, the nervous cat backed into a narrow opening between a large wooden crate and the dumpster used by a small printing establishment directly across the alley from the jazz club. From there he could see what was coming, but he would be hidden still from view. A stocky figure pulling a loaded wagon -- the right rear wheel of which desperately needed lubrication, this causing the spine-wrenching noise -- appeared at the entrance. It seemed the man -- if a man is what it was -- must have intended continuing down the street. But at the last minute he paused and rotated his head to look into the darkness. The noise for the moment mercifully stopped. The cat drew back in his place of hiding another two silent steps. After a time, the figure turned into the alley and the terrible squeaking began again as the figure pulled the heavy wagon towards the rear of the dead-end alley where it was darkest. As the figure neared his position, the cat apparently panicked and tore across the alley to relocate itself behind several sacks of trash waiting for the next morning's pickup by the city. The approaching shadow did not seem to notice. In the briefest of moments when the shaft of light from the broken window fell on and lit clearly the bloody human ear showing through a single rent in the plastic bag which enclosed the body being dragged down the alley, there were only the narrowed and frightened eyes of the cat to see. |