Doves and Crows

Standing against the fence outside my high school, I went into a deep trance of nostalgia, like I most often did, and looked back over the busy streets of Chicago.

A few years ago I had learned to classify the people in this city as one of either two classes. A lot of people when they hear that word, "classes", they think social standing and wealth, even ethnicity. But the way I see it I measured people by strength of will and ambition. My classifications weren't so different from any other because A) they had an upper and a lower class, and B) If you were to ask someone of either class what they thought of the other, they would probably say they hated their guts.

There was the lower class: naive people who either traveled to the Windy City in the idea that it was a haven of entertainment and lights or because they were having a sort of mid-life crisis. And in doing so, never were able to get out when they realized that so many rich families had left the city that they were now the lower class, impoverished. The lack of money isn't what makes them the lower of the two groups though; it's that they don't try to become better people. They just sit around and mope at their own stupidity, and that's what frosts me about them.

The other class, the upper class, people who were the polar opposite of the first, were people like me. They were people who knew how things worked and how to not get pushed around. We were in charge of our own fates and nothing could change who we wanted to be. We as a people were much more self-reliant than the other type.

As my mind wandered my eyes fell on a kid smiling at everyone passing him. A few seconds went by, and he stayed grinning until he turned and ran right into a tall man.

I had to presume he was a man of fine status from his posture, clothing, and shiny pocket watch whose chain hung from his hip. But he had good manners and helped the boy up. The boy stood up, flashed a toothy grin, and thanked the man. The man apologized and he wiped dirt off the kid's shoulder.

I jumped as the school bell rang, causing the whole fence to tremble. I sighed and bounced my head against the links of the fence. Picking up my backpack off the asphalt I slung it over my shoulder and walked toward the other side of the school where it wasn't so much the slums. I couldn't be seen in this part of town.

Just as I turned my back on the street I caught a glimpse of the man as he took his leave and the kid slipped something silver into his pocket. The reflection of the sun that sat on a pedestal blinded me momentarily but I refused to close my eyes. I wouldn't make myself blind.