by E. R. FALLON
“Has Danny been around?”
“Yeah,” the bartender, a tall and heavyset man, with combed-back hair and piercing green eyes, replied. “But he met up with some girl. They left about an hour ago.”
“Do you know where he went?”
The bartender shook his head. “Want me to give him a message the next time I see him?”
Colin shook his head. “It’ll be too late.” He headed for the door, but before he left, he turned around and said to the bartender, “Actually, can you give him a message for me?”
“Sure. What is it?”
“Tell him I had no choice.”
The bartender looked perplexed but he nodded. Colin walked outside.
Colin went home, hoping that maybe somehow through their family Danny had heard word about what had happened and would be there for him. But with the exception of Carmine’s body, which was starting to turn rank, no one was home.
Colin decided there was only one possible solution left, and it was a solution he dreaded.
Uncle Rick had sold his pub a few years ago at a loss and had moved to Brooklyn. After Colin’s father’s death, Rick had hit rock bottom. He was divorced from Georgette and estranged from their daughter. All Uncle Rick did now was drink and struggle with debts. Colin hadn’t seen his uncle in years, but he had heard of Rick’s whereabouts from people in the Bowery.
First, he headed back to Johnny’s place. Once again, he called up to Johnny’s dark window from the sidewalk.
This time he didn’t bother to whisper. “Johnny!”
It seemed as if Johnny had been expecting him because he turned a light on and immediately opened the window.
“I’ll come downstairs.”
A moment later, he appeared in the building’s doorway. They went inside and headed up to Johnny’s apartment again. They were quiet while they went up the steps and only spoke once they were inside the apartment and the door was shut.
“How can I help?” Johnny said.
“I need a car. I need to drive somewhere.”
“The body—you need to drive the body somewhere?”
Colin shook his head. “I need to drive somewhere to talk to someone. The less you know, the better. I want to keep you out of this so you don’t get into trouble if the shit hits the fan.”
“I’ll drive you.” Johnny gave him a partial embrace.
Colin waited for Johnny to put a jacket on. Then Johnny locked his apartment and they went downstairs and outside the building. “Car’s over there.” Johnny nodded at a gleaming, red car across the street.
“You got a new car?”
“Yeah. My boss at the garage gave me this baby for almost nothing. I’ve been fixing her up myself.”
“You did a great job. You’re doing well for yourself. No wonder you were reluctant to help me.”
“I’m sorry about that, but I’m helping you now. Right?”
“You are.” Colin smiled at his friend.
Johnny didn’t have a license and he drove at a slow speed, as though he didn’t want to risk getting pulled over by the police. They spoke only a little during the drive to Brooklyn, and when they arrived in front of Uncle Rick’s building, Colin suggested Johnny park and wait for him.
Colin let out a sigh as he opened the car door and stepped outside.
Uncle Rick lived in a fading red building. Colin braced himself before he went up the crumbling steps. He had to convince himself he was doing it for his own good, and for the good of Maureen and Patrick, whom he greatly loved; and even for his mother, though after this evening he wasn’t too sure he still felt obligated to protect her. No matter what, he wouldn’t drag them down with him. He couldn’t land in prison. They needed his money and his help to get by. His mother wouldn’t be able to support the family without him.
There was a large, wild dog roaming Rick’s block, headed in Colin’s direction. Johnny shouted to Colin and then rolled up his window. The dog drooled as it snarled at Colin, who sprinted up the steps and prayed that the front door would be unlocked. He struggled with the doorknob for a moment then it opened.
He raced inside and wandered the first floor where he knew Uncle Rick lived. But he didn’t know which apartment belonged to his uncle. He found Rick after knocking on the wrong door twice. From the way Uncle Rick looked at Colin, Colin thought Rick didn’t recognize him. Colin had changed since his uncle last saw him, but how could Rick not have known who he was? “Who are you?” Uncle Rick asked.
“It’s Colin.” When Rick shrugged, Colin said, “Your brother Michael’s son.”
Uncle Rick stared into his eyes. “Right, you are. You’re almost as tall as me now.”
“You’ll never be able to hurt me again,” Colin whispered.
“What was that you said?” Rick put his hand to his ear.
“I didn’t say anything.”
“Oh.” Uncle Rick’s brow furrowed. “I’ll admit I knew who you were when I opened the door. I just didn’t think you’d ever come here.”
“I’m here.”
“What do you want?” Rick’s expression softened.
Colin had wanted to shed a few tears when he saw his uncle in front of him. Where had the time gone? He’d last seen Uncle Rick at his father’s funeral. Had it really been that long since he lost his father? He hardly recognized his uncle now. Uncle Rick’s skin had weathered. But his eyes were the same, those deceptive blue eyes that had looked down at him all those years ago on that horrible night when Danny had been shot and Colin had lost his childhood.
Colin cleared his throat to keep his emotions in check. “We need to talk. There’s a problem.”
Uncle Rick hesitated. Then he stuck his head out the door, as if to make sure no one was following Colin.
“All right. Come in.”
He shut and locked the door behind Colin. Colin became on guard when Rick locked the door. Then he remembered he wasn’t small anymore. There was an overpowering and unpleasant scent inside the apartment. Ripe sweat and cigarette smoke.
Rick took out a bottle of whiskey and a smudged glass from under a wooden chair. He didn’t have much furniture in the room, just an end-table and that chair, which was missing a leg. Uncle Rick poured a shot and gulped it down. His hands shook as he made himself a second drink. Colin watched Rick’s neck muscles tense before he swallowed.
“Want one?” Rick gestured with his glass. Colin shook his head.
Rick took two gulps then left the empty glass on the floor, and stepped into the kitchen. His body didn’t sway as he walked. The kitchen was a separate room from the rest of the apartment but didn’t have a door as an entranceway, rather just a frame to mark its place. “Come in here and sit,” Uncle Rick called out to Colin, who was still staying close to the entrance door.
Colin could see Rick’s back. He appeared to be making coffee. Colin hesitated but went in when his uncle called for him again. Colin was surprised to find that Uncle Rick had set out two cups of steaming coffee on the small kitchen table along with a pitcher of cream and a bowl of sugar.
“You act like you’re afraid of me,” Rick commented as he sat down at the table. “Don’t you remember your father brought you to my pub almost every day?”
Colin nodded. He also remembered something else his uncle had done to him. Had Rick forgotten?
“Do you like cream and sugar?” Uncle Rick asked.
“Sure.”
“I like my coffee black.” Rick tried to smile but it looked wrong. Colin wanted to get down to business and then get out of there.
But he didn’t know how or where to start. So he let his uncle do the talking.
“Your father was a great man,” Rick said. Colin murmured in agreement.
“I can’t get over how big you are. What are you, eighteen?”
“Sixteen,” Colin corrected him.
“How did you get here?”
“A friend drove me.”
“They’re waiting outside?”
Colin no
dded.
“You could’ve invited them in.”
“I don’t think so.”
“If your father had lived longer, he would’ve been real grand in his old age. Do you know that?”
Colin didn’t reply and just stared at his uncle.
“How’s your mother?” Rick asked. “And your sister and brothers?”
“My mother’s all right. They’re…” Colin didn’t finish answering the question.
“I’d like to get rid of David Burke and his whole blasted lot. Of course, it’ll not happen.”
“You’re right. They’d probably kill you first.”
Uncle Rick frowned at Colin and then chuckled in that awkward way one does when they’ve been insulted but don’t know what to do about it.
Then for a while, they both said nothing. Colin looked down at his cup but didn’t put in cream or sugar, or drink from it.
“I did something,” Colin uttered as he glanced at Rick.
“What did you do?” Uncle Rick sounded concerned. “You can tell me, son.” He reached out and patted Colin’s shoulder.
“Don’t touch me.” Colin’s body tensed and he shook off Rick’s hand.
Rick sat there looking uncomfortable.
Colin began to talk. “My mother, she got herself involved with this fellow, and he was a bastard. He messed with Maureen in the worst way and I caught him. I killed him.”
Rick just sat there watching him. Then he rose from the table. “Get out of here.” He had a revolted look in his eyes.
“Uncle Rick, please,” Colin begged. “I need your help.”
“I said get out of here!” Rick removed Colin from the chair by his sleeve and dragged him into the living room. “Leave. I don’t need this shite.” He shoved Colin toward the door.
Colin didn’t comprehend what was happening, and he didn’t fight back until Uncle Rick opened the door and pushed him out into the hallway. Rick was large himself, but Colin fought as his uncle slammed and locked the door behind him.
“You bastard. You damn bastard. After what you did to me, you owe me.”
Then Colin fell silent. The hallway was still until someone, not Uncle Rick, shouted at Colin to be quiet. He left the building and didn’t see the dog. Johnny waved to him and he got into the car.
“Everything okay?” Johnny asked.
Colin shook his head. He knew he would never go to the police and turn himself in for killing Carmine. They’d have to come for him first.
7
“Colin. How are you doing? How are you holding up?” Lucille said.
Colin looked over at her from where he rested on his back on his bed behind the jail bars. He smiled. It was good to hear her voice. “What do you think?” he said with sarcasm.
“That it’s awful,” she replied with a grin.
“You got that right.” Colin put his head down on the bed again.
He stared at the decaying ceiling.
“Are you tired?” she asked
He shrugged.
“Want me to leave?” she said.
He thought about it for a moment. The prospect of being alone scared him even more than the possibility of her staying by his side bothered his dignity. He disliked sympathy from anyone, even from a woman he had feelings for.
“Stay.” He glanced over at her beautiful lips. “I could use a distraction.”
“Everyone’s been asking about you.”
“What did they say?” He was suddenly interested and sat up and looked at her.
“They want to know how you’re doing. My brother says he’s going to give you free drinks for life when they dismiss this thing.
But they printed your real age in the newspapers so you’re going to have to wait until you’re older.” She smiled. “It’s not right you’re in here. You were defending Maureen.”
“It’s nice they’re asking about me. All the law seems to care about is Carmine’s rights. It’s like because Maureen’s a poor woman, she doesn’t count.”
“The law doesn’t care about women like me and her. They think we’re nothing but garbage. It’s good you saved your sister. You’re her hero, Colin. I know she won’t admit it out loud but that’s what she’s thinking. You’re my hero as well.”
Colin’s face warmed from the compliment. “I’m no hero. And I don’t need anything free from your brother. I always get whatever I want free when I drink at his pub with you.” He smiled.
“You do.” Lucille spoke as though she was reminiscing. Tears shone in her eyes.
Colin reached out for her but couldn’t dry her eyes through the cell bars. “Please don’t cry. I hate seeing you sad.”
Lucille wiped her eyes with her hand and smiled at him, but her eyes had a heartbreaking look.
“I don’t think I’m getting out of here,” Colin said.
Lucille moved closer to his cell and touched the bars. “You can’t think like that.”
“I did it. And I get to go to jail for it. I knew what the consequences would be. I’ve accepted that. It’s over.”
“But you can’t tell them that. You can’t tell a judge that. You’re so stubborn. Say you were overcome with anger at what he was doing to Maureen. That’s what Johnny told me to tell you to say. Weren’t you drunk?”
“I wasn’t drunk. I knew what I was doing. Since when are you friends with Johnny?”
“Since you landed in here. Don’t worry. It’s not like that.”
“Johnny’s a good guy. You could do worse.”
“He’s too young. Like you.” Lucille passed him rosary beads through the bars. “I was able to sneak these in.”
Colin smiled and clutched the warm beads in his hand. “Do you need me to bring you anything else?” she asked.
“Like what?”
“I don’t know. A magazine? A drink?” She laughed.
“A magazine would be nice. No newspapers, please.” He couldn’t stand how the tabloids referred to him as ‘Killer Colin’. “Can’t drink in here, not when they’re watching me all the time. They think I’m a suicide risk because of my father. Can you believe it? What do they think I am?”
“My God.” Lucille looked concerned. “You’re not, are you?”
“Of course not. I’m not checking out of this world anytime soon. At least not by my own hand.” He wanted to touch her face through the bars to reassure her but a prison officer was standing nearby.
“I’ll bring you a magazine. Your mother’s anxious.”
“When isn’t she?” Then Colin’s tone became somber. “You’ve been to see her?”
Lucille shook her head. “Maureen said she was.”
“How’s Maureen?”
Colin thought about what had happened to his sister every time he lay staring at the ugly gray ceiling because he couldn’t sleep. It made him angry to think about what had happened to her, and he tried to make himself forget, but it was hard to prevent his mind from wandering. At nighttime, when it was dark and quiet in the cold cellblock, the brutal memory of what she’d endured always returned to him.
“Maureen’s doing all right considering. I heard she broke up with her boyfriend,” Lucille said.
“Because of what happened?”
“I’m not sure. I don’t think she likes me very much.”
Colin smiled. “She never has. She thinks you’re a bad influence on me.” A couple of months had passed as Colin awaited his trial. He’d been denied bail, and even if the judge had granted it, there wasn’t any money to pay for it. He missed the outside world. He’d been doing pushups in his cell in the afternoons to keep up his strength.
Lucille stepped so close to his cell her nose almost touched the bars. Colin’s body shook with emotion. She tried to touch him but the prison officer intervened and stopped her.
Lucille shook the prison officer off her. “All right, I won’t.”
“Do you want to sit down?” Colin asked her when the prison officer had backed off. “Maybe they can give you a chair.”
>
Lucille shrugged.
“Ask them,” Colin said. “You should be able to sit down and rest.”
“Who should I ask?”
Colin glanced at the prison officer, who was now speaking to a man behind bars a few cells down from them.
“Really?” Lucille said.
“Go on. You never were shy.” He winked at her.
Colin watched Lucille as she walked over to the prison officer. She spoke with the slight man and he reluctantly brought a chair over to Colin’s cell for her to use.
“You can sit down now,” the prison officer said to Lucille.
Colin looked at Lucille. “You don’t have to sit at his command. You sit when you want to, sweetheart.”
The prison officer told Colin to shut up. Often the prison officers sounded like they came from the same street as him, and he felt this particular officer had it in for him because of his size.
“Please sit down, ma’am,” the prison officer said to Lucille. “I have to keep an eye on you at all times, now that you have the chair.”
Lucille glanced at Colin and then at the prison officer as though she hated choosing sides. “It’s fine, Colin.” She sat down.
The prison officer stepped farther back but still kept a close watch on them.
“You didn’t have to listen to him,” Colin said.
“Hush. My behind ass tired.”
They both laughed.
“So, what have you been up to?” Colin asked.
“I got a real job.”
“Congratulations. Where are you working?”
“At a button shop in the Garment District,” Lucille said.
Colin started to laugh then realized she was serious. “You’re not working for your brother anymore?”
“I’m still working at the pub sometimes. The button place is something to keep me… Now that we don’t have our afternoons anymore, I needed something to keep me busy.”
“To distract you?”
Lucille nodded. “It’s getting harder though. Each day, I feel more and more like doing nothing.”
Maybe she did have feelings for him after all. “I know what you mean.” And Colin really did know. But he wanted to discuss more pleasant things. “Perhaps you can finally move out of the hotel.” He smiled.
