MELODY’S PLACE
Melody’s place turned out to be a crumbling brick building wedged onto a dead-end street overlooking the highway. The shredded chain link fence was festooned with trash and the vestiges of memorials to victims of…what, I wasn’t sure. Half of the streetlights were dark—burned out or shot out or both—and the front steps of the building were lively with a knot of homies watching cars creep up the street, stopping just long enough for an exchange of goods. Overhead, a blue police camera flashed, a silent witness, but the lone patrol car went past without stopping.
There was a chorus of whistles and raucous Spanish from the homies as Melody led me toward the gate. She unlocked it with a key and stepped through, but when I moved to follow, I found my path blocked by a wall of ro
