An excerpt from my recently published novel A Long Slow Aftermath,. Preston comes home and visits his neighbors, who supplement their working class income with a pizza connection.

     Preston walked Toshi back to the house so she could get back to work. He walked down the driveway and into the backyard to get to Thea’s studio. Thea had agreed to let Preston live in her backyard studio while he was getting back on his feet after having left his drug rehabilitation program.
     As Preston approached the large former garage that his old friend Thea had converted into a full studio, he heard the anticipated toenail clicking, the gratuitous watch dog barks and yelps, followed by the thumping and scratching of paws on the front door.
     Joey knew it was him.
     Joey sprung out of the door and ran around the yard as Preston quickly ducked inside of the studio for her leash and collar. The brown and white pit bull with perky ears jumped up and down and wagged her thin tail so quickly that it had become a blur.
     Preston did not feel like moving anymore, but he had to walk Joey. Putting the collar and leash on her took extra time because she would not stop squirming and jumping. Bringing her out to the street, he decided he would take the short, gratuitous dog walking route.
     Joey zigged and zagged, and jumped up and down whenever she saw another dog. She also scanned the trees for squirrels, as barking at and chasing after squirrels was one of her favorite pastimes.
     Preston was not sure what Joey would do if she actually caught a squirrel. She was such a happy dog that he assumed she would try to play with it.
     “Can I pet your dog?” asked a passing shaggy-haired neighbor.
     “She’s not my dog.”
     Joey had already decided to say hi to his neighbor. She pulled on her leash and wagged her tail at full speed.
     “He’s really friendly,” said the young tie-dyed shirt wearing neighbor as he knelt down to pet Joey.
     “He’s a she actually.”
     “Yeah? What’s her name?”
     “Joey.”
     “A girl dog named Joey?” asked the neighbor as he darted his head around to avoid Joey’s flickering tongue.
     “My friend named her after Joey Ramone. I’m watching her while he’s away.”
     “I already seen you with this dog for a couple of weeks.”
     The man’s curly hair flopped over his face as he bent down to scritch the still tail-wagging Joey’s ears. He was from the large corner house, the place that Preston suspected was a commune of sorts, as he saw all manner people coming and going from the place.
     “It’s been two months actually,” said Preston.
     The man stood up. “Two months? Is he traveling the world or somethin’?”
     “Maybe. He’s kind of one of those chaotic types.”
     “Okay. A happy wanderer?”
     “More like a flaky wanderer.”
     The man nodded. “Oh yeah, I know those types. Anyways, stop by the house with your puppers if y’wanna to catch some bud.”
     Preston shook his head. “Sorry, I don’t partake.”
     “Y’don’t like weed?
     “It’s okay, I just can’t do that kind of stuff no more.”
     The man looked right at Preston. “Got a few stories then?”
     Preston looked down at Joey. “Too many.”
     “Take it easy man,” said the neighbor with a wave as he continued to walk down the street.
     Preston circled the block with Joey and came back around to Thea’s house. As he approached, he saw the usual gang of neighbors next door, hanging out near the side stairs of their old and large duplex.
     Donjee spotted Preston as he got closer. “Hey! You want some a’ this pizza?” said Donjee as he held up a box that contained more than half of a large pizza. The pizza was thick with a bulging white crust and a generous layer of congealed cheese.
     “More pizza?” said Preston.
     “You gotta help us eat alla this,” said Lanelle.
     “Sure, I’ll have some.”
     The driveway alongside Donjee’s duplex worked as an extra long alleyway. They had set up an exotic variety of chairs and a round, plastic table, along with an old couch and a few end tables to make it an outdoor setting. There was almost always someone hanging out in the driveway, either reading a book, having a smoke, or conversing with passing neighbors.
     Many evenings they were out around the table eating pizza. Tonight it was three out of the four duplex dwellers, Lanelle, Donjee, and Jeffers with his wheelchair wedged up against the side of the staircase by the table. They had at least three pizza boxes with them.
     Preston sat down on a barstool near the table and worked on his piece of pizza. Donjee handed him some napkins.
     “Where’s Al?” asked Preston.
     “He already went inside,” said Lanelle. “He’s the only one who can’t eat this no more.”
     “I don’t know if I could ever get sick of pizza,” said Preston.
     “Try workin’ in a pizza joint like Al,” said Donjee.
     “Once I was roommates with some guy who worked at Acme Bakery,” said Lanelle as she whipped her head around to get her braids out of her face. “He always brought back bags of sourdough bread. Like, everyday. I never thought I could get sick of sourdough bread.”
     “Has Jessica been by tonight?” asked Preston.
     “The chicas have her over at their house,” said Lanelle.
     “She still lookin’ for that ice cream truck?”
     “Yeah she is,” said Jeffers. “I wish she would find it. I ain’t seen an ice cream truck in these parts for I don’t know how long.”
     Jeffers tore off a piece of pizza crust and tossed it at Joey who caught it mid air and chewed it down.
     “Hey, don’t feed the dog pizza!” said Preston.
     “I can’t help it,” said Jeffers. “She keeps lookin’ at me with those sad puppy dog eyes.”
     “That’s because she knows you’re a sucker,” said Donjee.
     Preston sat back with his pizza, eating with one hand while he kept a hold of Joey’s leash with the other. Looking around the table, he could always tell when Donjee had worked that day or not. Donjee was wearing a slick black shirt and his good pair of jeans, meaning he had not had any work for the day. He could never tell with Lanelle. He knew she had been looking for a new job, with little luck.
     Preston looked at Donjee. “You still lookin’ for work?”
     “I’m always lookin’ for work,” said Donjee. “I still gots that graveyard gig over at the warehouse, but they been cuttin’ my hours.”
     “That job pays pretty well though, right?”
     “Hell yeah. But I don’t get enough hours. I keep tellin’ ’em I want more hours.”
     “An’ then they cut his hours back,” said Lanelle.
     Jeffers looked at Preston. “What about you? You gots any work yet?”
     “My friend Haste says he might be able to get me some contract work, working for this tree an’ shrub service he sometimes works for.”
     “Shit, I sometimes get days with a roofer,” said Donjee. “Last week my friend Daryl got me a job hangin’ out on a roof, tossin’ stuff to the ground and haulin’ junk around.”
     Lanelle pointed at Donjee. “An’ then he went to the warehouse!”
     “No fuckin’ way,” said Preston. “From roofing to the warehouse?”
     Donjee shook his head. “I was up for more than twenty hours. Got in sixteen hours a’ work though.”
     “Money money money,” said Jeffers.
     Preston shook his head. “I know they said money can’t buy happiness, but I can’t shake the feeling I’d be a lot happier if I had a lot more money.”
     “Hell yeah” said Lanelle. “If I won the lottery I’d buy so many damn shoes they would need their own room.”
     Jeffers winced at Lanelle. “Y’all gonna be Imelda Marcos?”
     “Welcome to my shoe room!” she announced as she waved her hand.
     “I wouldn’t know what to do with a lottery win,” said Preston. “I ain’t got extravagant tastes.”
     “Buy yourself a big ol’ house,” said Lanelle.
     “Buy yo momma a big ass house.”
     Preston shook his head. “I don’t even know where my momma is.”
     “I wish I didn’t know where my momma was,” said Jeffers.
     “Yeah.”
     Everyone was quiet for a moment as they ate. Joey sat down and carefully watched everyone eat with hopeful eyes.
     Jeffers looked at Preston. “You didn’t ask me if I was lookin’ for work.”
     “Are you?” asked Preston.
     “Hell naw.”
     Lanelle turned to Jeffers. “They gotta be somethin’ your lazy ass could do. I’m killin’ myself at that damn store.”
     “I do okay with my disability pay,” said Jeffers. “I sure could use a lottery win though.”
     “Again with the lottery,” said Preston. “You guys buy tickets?”
     “Hell naw,” said Donjee. “That shit’s a waste a’ time.”
     Lanelle looked at Jeffers. “Get a job in an ice cream store, that way you can bring back lotsa ice cream to go with this pizza.”
     “Psh! Maybe I should become a bartender.”
     Donjee looked at Lanelle. “You should get one a’ them fancy ass desk jobs like Preston’s friend Thea, then you can start fancying up the house like alla these tech bros.”
     “Shit, I don’t know enough to get one a’ them jobs,” said Lanelle.
     Preston looked down at Joey who had started to lie down. “I should get Joey back into the studio.”
     Donjee held up a pizza box that had a few slices of pizza left. “Take the rest of this with you.”
     “You sure?”
     “Hell yeah,” said Lanelle. “Al’s gonna bring more by tomorrow.”
     “That pizza joint connection,” said Donjee.
     “Okay.”
     Preston took the box just as another piece of crust flew at Joey who perked up and scarfed it down.
     “Jeffers!”
     “She’ll be fat but happy!” said Jeffers.