From up and down the block I could hear running feet and the odd door slam, doors on houses much like this one, unassuming structures in that graveyard-laden grey area between Boyle Heights and East Los Angeles.
While footfall fell and doors slammed, what I didn’t hear were children in yards, yards now universally browned-out or paved over. Also didn’t hear cries of “Look after the kids!,†thank God.
Where was Saenz running? Perhaps a block over to Calvary Cemetery to find solace in meditation? Down Indiana St. to hide in his secret recesses of the scrap yards of Vernon? Or up Whittier Boulevard and into LA, to find whatever he felt was denied him in life?
