As Zack ambled home, he passed gas stations with boarded-up windows, bail bond agencies, and one-room churches. Everything was small and stained with age, unlike the touristy parts of the city. Most of the buildings were a dirty tan, with iron bars covering the windows. The biggest exception was Eddy’s Market, a combination produce stand and convenience store. Its cheerful green awning was the only dot of color on the whole block. Zack bought most of his groceries there when he actually bothered to cook.

After passing Eddy’s, it was just another two blocks to his place. When Zack spotted his building, a sense of ease settled over him. Most people would call him crazy for being comforted by the sight of it. The building was squat and boxy, with small windows like sad eyes in a sagging face. The open breezeways between the units meant bugs were plentiful and ubiquitous, attracted by the easy shelter. Zack lived on the first floor, which was perfect for moving furniture but also for getting robbed. He’d had to replace his television twice in the past year, and his Xbox was living with his friend Lee until he moved to a nicer neighborhood. If that ever actually happened.

But Zack was strangely attached to the place. Rent was the first bill he’d paid with his own money when he left for college. Even after he’d dropped out, he’d continued to live there.

Zack trudged up to the black gate surrounding the building. He waved to a middle-aged Dominican woman who was hanging laundry out of a second-story window. “Hey, Mrs. Alvarez!”

The woman finished clipping a blouse to the line that stretched between the buildings and waved back. “Hey, Zack! Ziggy and Marilyn are waiting for you.”

“Thank you!”

Zack slipped through the gate and hurried along a thin walkway. It snaked from one apartment to the next before widening into a dilapidated parking lot in the back. Weeds crept up through huge cracks in the pavement and clung to the chain-link fence surrounding it. It looked like a scene out of a postapocalyptic film: the plants had begun to reclaim the earth.

A man with skin so dark it matched the oil smudges on his white shirt was squatting next to a patch of dirt. He was tending to a few fruitless tomato plants with a spade. They fit the definition of a vegetable garden in only the loosest sense, but they were clearly well cared for.

“Hey, Mr. Alvarez,” Zack greeted him as he approached. “How was your day?”

“Not bad, son,” the man replied. He pushed himself into a standing position with a weary groan. “Your boy here missed you.”

As he spoke, a streak of white flashed past him and appeared at Zack’s feet.

“Whoa, there, Ziggy.” Zack laughed as the white shepherd jumped on him. His paws easily reached Zack’s narrow hips. Zack petted as much snowy fur as he could reach and scratched behind his ears. Ziggy’s whole body reverberated with the force of his wagging tail. “Easy there, boy. I was only at work, same as always. It’s like you think you’re never going to see me again every time I leave.”