Life one of nine
The dumpster years
Born behind the dumpsters on 100th Street. No mother he would name and no father he would admit to. He could open a trash lid before he could purr, and he has never once said thank you for a meal.
Lost to a raccoon named Dennis, who wanted the lid more.
Life two of nine
The bodega
Taken in by the bodega on the corner. Slept on the scratch-off tickets, which is how he learned that everybody buys a ticket and nobody reads the odds. Still his entire investment philosophy.
Lost to a nap in the walk-in fridge. Cold, but fair.
Life three of nine
The roof
Found a rooftop with a pigeon coop and a view of the whole block. Ran the coop like a landlord. Rent was paid in breadcrumbs. It was the first thing he ever owned and the last time he asked permission for anything.
Lost to gravity, after a strong opinion about a ledge.
Life four of nine
The hoodie
Pulled a green hoodie off a clothesline on 99th and put it on. It was too big then. It is too big now. It has not come off since, including during the fridge incident, which raises questions he will not answer.
Lost to a laundromat. He does not discuss the laundromat.
Life five of nine
The can
Found a spray can with a quarter of the paint left and wrote his name across the front of the precinct. Spelled it right on the second try. The first try is still there, underneath.
Lost to the precinct. Briefly.
Life six of nine
The crew
Met Big Cats at a fence, C at a chess table, and Meowhood on a fire escape where he was already keeping lookout for nobody in particular. None of them asked to join. They just kept showing up, and eventually that is what a crew is.
Lost to a block party that got out of hand. See Exhibit C.
Life seven of nine
The chain
Bought his first gold chain with money he has never explained. Then a second one. Then the rings. He wears his own name because nobody on the block was saying it right.
Lost to a jeweler who overcharged him. He got the chain back. The jeweler got tagged.
Life eight of nine
The boombox
One volume. He carried it up every stairwell in Meowhood and collected noise complaints like they were awards. Some of them are framed.
Lost to the batteries, at the loudest part of the best song.
Life nine of nine
The other chain
Robinhood opened a chain. Hoodlum walked onto it like he had lived there for years, tagged the first wall he saw, and started buying his own token from the pool like everybody else. This is the life he is on now. He intends to keep it.
Lost to nothing yet. Do not be the reason.