The Trouble Boys

by E. R. FALLON

  A heavy man in longshoreman’s garb walked in and took a seat at one of the booths in the back of the pub. He hollered, “Rick, bring me a pint!”

  “Be right with you.”

  “Colin and I should be getting home. See you laters, Rick,” Colin’s father said.

  Colin hopped off his barstool and followed his father out of the pub as Uncle Rick waved goodbye to them.

  Outside the pub the autumn air was strangely warm, and it felt a little like the early summer as Colin walked with his father down the block and crossed a side street. Colin’s father reached for his hand but he declined.

  “I’m too big for that.” Colin then tugged at his father’s sleeve. “Da? How come you don’t like to drink like Uncle Rick does?”

  His father looked down at him and his brow furrowed. Colin wondered if he’d asked the wrong question. “Because the drink makes me a mean man.”

  The sun had still been visible when they’d left Uncle Rick’s pub, but as they walked on it disappeared behind the vast skyline. All that was left in Colin’s presence were gray shopfronts and row after row of suffocating tenements with the occasional shout coming from an opened window. As Colin walked on with his father, it only grew darker. Soon the moon shone bright in the sky above him, somewhere he wouldn’t be able to see from the dirty streets down below of the Lower East Side. How could his mother and father ever have thought this place would be better than home?

  By the time Colin arrived at the tenement with his father, Maureen had already set dinner on the table.

  “You were at Uncle Rick’s, weren’t you?” she asked as they took off their coats.

  Maureen wore their mother’s red apron, which fit her well. She seemed annoyed, as if the food was cold because they were late, even though they weren’t. She had just set the dinner out earlier than usual.

  “Yes, we were visiting your uncle for a bit,” Colin’s father said. “Are we late for dinner? I didn’t think we were.”

  Maureen shook her head as she stood in front of the stove. There was no separate kitchen in the apartment. The only spaces that were separated by walls were the two small bedrooms. The stove, the icebox, and the sink were part of the main room that you stepped into when entering the apartment. They had to boil water if they wanted to fill the bathtub in the main room and everyone else had to leave for privacy.

  “Thank you for dinner, Maureen,” Colin’s father said. “Has Danny come home yet?”

  Maureen shook her head as she went over to the small dining table. She was already taller than their mother, and she was clever and self-taught.

  “I suppose he’s still working,” she said. “What time did Danny leave for work?”

  “I’m not sure. It’s not unusual for him to be late.” Maureen sat down at the table and waited for them to take a seat.

  “Where’s your máthair?”

  “In bed.”

  Their father sighed and then sat down. Colin sat next to his sister. Maureen put her hands in position to pray, and Colin and his father followed her lead.

  “Dear Lord,” she began, “bless this food and the members of our household. We pray for their safe departures and their swift returns—”

  Someone knocked at the door.

  “It’s open,” Maureen hollered as she started to eat her potatoes.

  Colin watched as their father scolded Maureen for her boisterous behavior.

  She shrugged. The door opened and Colin began to eat. Most likely it was a neighbor wanting to borrow a frying pan or a paring knife.

  But Mr. Duffy who lived downstairs burst into the apartment shouting, “Come quick, Danny’s been shot!”

  He had to shout again before the startling news sank into the mind of anyone at the table. “Danny’s been shot!”

  Maureen gasped and started to cry. Colin’s father dropped his fork and ran over to Mr. Duffy. Mr. Duffy was almost crazed with madness himself. His white hair went this direction and that, and his spectacles were falling off his face.

  “Where is he? What happened?” Colin’s father asked.

  Mr. Duffy fixed his spectacles and whispered into Michael’s ear. “I see,” Michael said. Then he spoke to Colin and Maureen, “Stay here.” He began to walk out with Mr. Duffy and Colin started whimpering.

  “Da, don’t leave without me.” Maureen rose from the table and ran over to where he was.

  He took her by the shoulders gently. “I have to. I can’t take Colin with me so you need to stay with him.”

  “No…” Maureen touched their father’s shirtsleeve but he shook her off.

  Colin’s father didn’t grab his coat as he left the apartment.

  Maureen’s entire body seemed to shake. She left the door open and lingered in the doorway for a few minutes after their father had left, almost as if she was waiting for him to return. She didn’t shut the door, and went back to the table and sat down next to Colin.

  “You should finish your dinner,” she said.

  “Where’s Danny?” Colin began to eat his food again. “Someone hurt him with a gun?” He wiped some food from his face.

  Maureen slowly nodded as she dried her eyes. “Yes, Danny’s been hurt.”

  “Who did it?”

  “I don’t know, Colin.”

  “Will he be all right?”

  “Da’s going to find out for us.”

  “How come Mam didn’t go with him?”

  “Da left in a hurry.”

  “Why did you stay? I’m big enough.”

  “I stayed so you wouldn’t be alone.”

  “But I’m not alone. Mam’s here.”

  “Yes, but she’s sleeping,” Maureen said gently.

  Colin’s mother spent a lot of time shut away in the bedroom when her sadness and fear overcame her.

  “Doesn’t Mam care what happens to Danny?” Colin asked. “She does, but she’s anxious.”

  “Anxious about Danny?”

  “If she knew then I’m sure she’d be worried about him, yes, but she’s anxious all the time.”

  “Will she feel better soon?”

  “There’s no cure for what she has.”

  “I don’t like it when she’s this way.”

  “I don’t either.” Maureen squeezed his shoulder and then got up and stepped into the bedroom their mother wasn’t using.

  Colin sat at the table alone. His face felt hot but he wasn’t crying. His mother entered the room in her bedclothes. She yawned as she walked and barely managed to keep her eyes open.

  “Why is the door open?” she asked and then closed it.

  Colin thought she must have been a very deep sleeper to not have heard the commotion.

  “Hello, handsome,” she spoke sleepily to him. She walked to him, put her arms around his neck and hugged him. “Stór,” she cooed in Gaelic.

  Colin looked back at her.

  “It means darling. That’s what your father used to say to me when I was younger and prettier.” His mother laughed slightly and kissed the top of his head. “You’re my favorite child. Don’t tell the others.” She winked. “I know you’ll make me proud someday.”

  “Something bad happened to Danny,” Colin said. “What’s going on?”

  “He was hurt. Ask Maureen.”

  “Oh, Lord.” His mother looked around the kitchen. “I would ask Maureen, but where is that girl?”

  Colin pointed at one of the bedrooms. “She went into there.”

  His mother sniffed and held back tears. “I don’t know if I can handle this right now. Why don’t you go and cheer your sister up? I need to stay here and smoke one of your father’s cigarettes for a bit to relax me and then I’ll talk to her.” She’d been smoking his father’s Lucky Strikes more and more since coming to America.

  His mother’s eyes and hands searched the table for the pack of cigarettes, but they weren’t there. She eventually found them near the stove.

  She patted his back. “What are you waiting for, sweetheart? Go on.”
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  Colin rose from his chair and went over to the bedroom Maureen had entered. His mother sat down in the tattered blue armchair in the corner of the main room and exhaled. She never smoked in bed because she didn’t want to start a fire. She took a cigarette out of the pack then got up again to look for a match. Colin already knew her routine by heart.

  Colin was in the middle of asking his neighbor Mrs. Finnegan and Uncle Rick when Danny would be coming home when his father arrived. Uncle Rick had shown up a little while ago before Mrs. Finnegan came over from across the hall to see how the family was coping. Bad news traveled fast in the tenement. Colin’s mother and Rick were smoking the Lucky Strikes at the table.

  Mrs. Finnegan had brought cake and tea with her. Colin devoured the cake with relish.

  “Michael,” his mother spoke to his father. “Why did this happen to our son? Who would do such a thing?”

  “He had a dispute with a customer he sold cigarettes to.”

  “Has he died?” she inquired softly.

  Colin’s father shook his head. “But he was shot twice, and his arm is in a bad way. We can’t let him work for that man anymore.” Colin’s mother dragged her cigarette away from her red lips with a pale, thin hand, and blew a curl of smoke out of her mouth. She nodded slightly, and Colin could see tears shining in her eyes.

  She was trying to remain composed but failing.

  “We’re all praying for him,” Mrs. Finnegan said. Then she remarked with pleasure as Colin gobbled up a piece of her sweet cake, “He’s a growing young man, isn’t he?” She patted him on the head.

  Colin’s mother smiled at him, and he saw how other peoples’ compliments about him pleased her.

  “Da,” Maureen shouted as she ran in from the bedroom where Colin had left her a little while ago. “Is Danny okay?”

  Michael calmed her down and gave her a hug. “He’s in surgery now. I have to return to hospital,” he told everyone in the room. “You and your mother can come with me if Rick can stay here and watch Colin,” he said to Maureen. “Colin’s too young to come with us. Will you watch him, Rick?” He looked at his brother.

  “Sure I can.” Uncle Rick began to eat a piece of cake.

  Colin sat with his treat and then began to fret about Danny again. Johnny’s mother had stopped by an hour ago to say that Johnny would be in to see Colin as soon as he came home from visiting his cousin, so Colin had that to look forward to.

  Colin’s father looked at Maureen and then at his wife. “Let’s go, girls.” He nodded at Uncle Rick. “I’ll ring Mrs. Duffy upstairs if I need to reach you, Rick. They have a telephone.”

  “We’ll be saying our prayers,” Mrs. Finnegan said.

  “I’m not sure even prayers will be enough,” Colin’s father mumbled.

  “Can we go play baseball?” Colin asked Uncle Rick after his mother, father, and his sister had left.

  “Now?” Rick said.

  Colin nodded. “I don’t want to wait.”

  “Surely, child, it’s too dark outside to play baseball,” Mrs. Finnegan interrupted.

  “It isn’t,” Colin insisted.

  Mrs. Finnegan frowned at him.

  “I’m afraid we can’t do it right now,” Uncle Rick said gently. “You see, we have to stay in the building to wait for any news of your brother. Your brother’s been hurt, you know.”

  “Will he get better?”

  “I expect that he will.” Uncle Rick smiled.

  Mrs. Finnegan gave Colin’s uncle a look of disapproval.

  “Let’s have some more of this cake Mrs. Finnegan was so kind to bring us,” Rick said to Colin.

  Mrs. Finnegan beamed with pride as Uncle Rick cut them a few more pieces from the cake using the small pop-up knife he had in his shirt pocket.

  “Danny would have wanted me to play baseball,” Colin said. Mrs. Finnegan smiled at him. “Yes, but not now, sweetheart.”

  She smelled like baby powder, and Colin thought about asking her why she smelled that way since she seemed too old to have babies at home.

  “I’ll tell you about my father, your grandfather,” Uncle Rick suddenly said to him. “Say, do you know if your da keeps any beer around the house?”

  Colin shook his head.

  Rick sighed. “I thought as much.”

  “My John has some,” Mrs. Finnegan said. “I’ll go fetch it.”

  “That’s very kind of you, ma’am.” When she left, Rick spoke to Colin, “I feel like having myself a drink. It keeps the nerves off.”

  Colin smiled along with his uncle although he hadn’t entirely grasped what Rick meant.

  Uncle Rick began to tell a story. He started out slowly but he became livelier and beaming with exaggerated detail after Mrs. Finnegan brought the beer.

  “When I was a child…” Uncle Rick had already finished his second bottle. “…your grandfather would take me to his pub with him, like your da takes you to my pub. I’d sit and watch my da work. He’d give me a ginger beer. Sometimes your da would come along with us.”

  “I never knew my grandfather,” Colin said.

  “He died before you were born. He was a great man, full of laughter, and love for this world. Everyone he met loved him. He played the accordion like your da. He was quite talented. Your da is a skilled player as well though you wouldn’t know it these days.” Uncle Rick looked at Mrs. Finnegan after he’d started drinking his third bottle. “Do you happen to have any more beer at home?”

  Mrs. Finnegan nodded. “But you’ve already had three. Do you really think you should have another?”

  Uncle Rick gave her a sheepish smile. “If you wouldn’t mind, I’d really love another.”

  Mrs. Finnegan was too polite to not carry out Rick’s wish. “Thank you,” Uncle Rick called out as she left. He smiled at Colin when she was gone, and Colin smiled back. “Now, what were we talking about?”

  “Your da.”

  “Yes, him. You look very much like him. Did you know that?” Colin shook his head.

  “Well, you do. You’re both big, handsome devils.” A twinkle shone in Uncle Rick’s eyes and he gave Colin a wink.

  Colin laughed.

  Mrs. Finnegan returned with two more bottles and Rick thanked her generously as she set them on the table.

  “I have to go now. Let me know if there’s any news of Danny. And, Colin,” she said, wagging her finger at him, “don’t stay up too late.”

  “Goodbye, ma’am, and thank you again,” Uncle Rick said as she closed the door behind her. “What a lovely woman.” Rick opened a bottle using the table’s edge and toasted Colin.

  Colin giggled at the toast his uncle had given him.

  “Come here,” Rick said to him after a moment. “Come now and sit on my lap. I bet you’re tired. You can sleep.”

  Colin shook his head. “I’m too big.”

  “No, you aren’t.” Uncle Rick gestured for him to sit. “Come on.” He grinned when Colin hesitated. “You’re not afraid of me, are you?”

  Colin slowly shook his head and then smiled at his uncle. He had never sat on anyone’s lap before except for his parents’ laps a few years ago. But Uncle Rick was a relative so Colin figured it would be acceptable. He got up and went over to Rick.

  Uncle Rick lifted him up. “You’re getting big and heavy.” Rick leaned his cold, unshaven face against Colin’s “Have I ever told you what a good lad you are, a good nephew?” His breath smelled bitter like beer.

  Colin sat up and tried to get off his uncle’s lap, but large Rick, so much stronger than him, had his arm around Colin’s waist, holding him tightly.

  “You are a good lad.”

  Colin wasn’t a slight boy, but each time he tried to break free, Uncle Rick used his even greater strength to hold him back. Rick was slurring, and he had a difficult time keeping his eyes open. He put his hand on the front of Colin’s pants, and Colin jumped. His body squirmed as he, again, tried to wrestle free.

  “Did I ever tell you you’re my favorite neph
ew?” Rick smiled awkwardly. He slipped his hand into the front of Colin’s pants, inside his underwear. “But you have to be quiet now. Calm down.” He put his other hand across Colin’s mouth to muffle his shouts.

  Rick’s cold, rough hand felt awful against Colin’s warm skin. He wriggled and tried to escape again, but he failed under his uncle’s persistent force.

  “All right.” Rick pulled his hand out.

  He ceased covering Colin’s mouth and tucked Colin’s shirt back in. Then he lifted him off his lap and set him on the floor. Uncle Rick tried to fix Colin’s ruffled hair but Colin ducked out of his reach.

  “Go and get ready for bed now.” Rick gave Colin a terse push toward the bedroom. He didn’t look him in the eye. “Don’t tell anyone about this,” he warned. “I’ll come in the middle of the night and hurt you if you do.”

  Colin glanced back at Rick as he ran to the room he shared with his older brother and sister. Uncle Rick was now slouched over in the chair at the table. His head moved up and down once in a while as he snored. Colin hurried into the bedroom and shut the door. He didn’t understand what had just happened. Colin didn’t want to grow up to become a publican anymore. He used all his strength to push Maureen’s bed against the inside of the door to keep the monster out. Colin feared Rick would hear the noise and try to come into the room. His eyes were damp, but he never cried out loud.

  3

  Years passed. Danny had lived. The Dubliner he’d worked for had paid the hospital bill, but Danny had lost his right arm and the hand he’d depended on to join the Air Force. World War II was raging, and Colin’s family had to use ration books, but there would be no going to war for Danny now. Líadan had given birth to another son a few months after Danny’s injury. It wasn’t intentional, of course. The family had named the little boy Patrick, and he had his mother’s looks.

  Uncle Rick was present in Colin’s life less often, and when he was there, Colin tried his best to avoid him. If Colin’s father would go to the pub and ask him if he would like to come along, Colin always said he was busy.

  Johnny’s mother wanted to move out of the Bowery to the countryside, but she only made it as far as Twenty Second Street. In the process, Johnny got himself a girlfriend; a pretty, brown-eyed girl named Donna. Colin got into the habit of skipping school with them. He hung out with Johnny and Donna at a drugstore near Johnny’s new apartment building and ate hamburgers and drank cola while people watching and telling obnoxious jokes. Sometimes they bought beer from older boys, which they’d end up paying double for. But the lightheaded joy it gave them on endless weekend afternoons made the money spent worthwhile.