The Fighting O'Keegans

by Aaron Kennedy

  Turning the Supervisor walked slowly towards the warehouse door all the while an imagined cold air prickle touching his back, feeling a vulnerability in the small of his back, like a knife was threatening to be plunged in at any moment. With each treasured step his body braced itself, willing each step onwards towards the sane outside world. With clasped and sweaty hands he finally reached his destination and stepped through, careful to close the door with a snap as he breathed again, firmly on the other side.

  Flannery and the new group’s leader disconnected their eyes from the closed door at the same time, looking back to each other as they started their conversation anew. Before picking the conversation up where it had been left, Flannery looked over at Shorty.

  ‘Shorty, these boys have been vouched for so I’ll handle it from here. We’ve got plenty to do. Go sort out any loose ends, I’ll meet you back at my cousin’s place in an hour or two. Let O’Keegan know we met up with the Supervisor’s new recruits and it looks okay.’ Shorty looked from Flannery to the leader then bobbing his head in agreement, left.

  Without a pause, Flannery focused again on the leader, continuing the conversation as if there had been no interruptions.

  ‘…and were you told why you boys should meet with us?’

  Still weighing up Flannery, the leader nodded not sure how much he should say, leaning forward with some eagerness the leader spoke directly to Flannery.

  ‘He said you might have some work for us.

  Flannery shrugged of his jacket,

  ‘That’s true…we might. Let me tell you what this is all about…then you can talk it through and make you decision.’ Sitting down on the hard floor, he signalled with his hands that the tired men could do likewise. The leader crouched down opposite Flannery, brushing his loose hair from his eyes as he settled himself down. Flannery stayed focused on the leader, fixing him with a firm look that showed no weakness. ‘But there’s just one thing…you’ll need to make you decision before you leave tonight, this is a once only opportunity. If you come talk to us tomorrow…we won’t be interested.’

  The leader’s teeth showed out through tight lips, realising the pressure tactics Flannery was deploying but able to hear Flannery’s conviction in his voice.

  Flannery pulled his knees closer to his face, his large hands clasping around his legs as he partially relaxed.

  Looking above and beyond the leader’s head, Flannery started to speak,

  ‘Less than a month ago, we were like you guys…if we’re honest, we’re not so different now’, Flannery looked back at the leader who just sat waiting and listening. ‘Me and O’Keegan and the rest of the boys shovelled coal, dripped sweat and cursed every minute of the journey. But a few things happened as we came across…maybe it was being inside a metal box together for so long…maybe it helped us to get smart…or stupid…I guess it depends how you look at it.’ Flannery shrugged, talking to himself more than any other. ‘But whatever it was, we knew that if we just walked off that ship and tried to make our own way, each of us would just be one more ‘immigrant’.

  Flannery paused, looking up as he broke from his story, seeing each of the men nodding to themselves as they took in what he was saying.

  ‘I suppose…for some…that’s okay. Maybe it would be good enough, but for us we chose to work together, to do whatever we could to make sure that our lives would be different this time around.’

  The leader looked Flannery over, staying silent as he waited for Flannery to continue.

  Flannery looked around at the five men sitting a few feet behind their leader and spoke to all of them as he went on. ‘The fact that there just six of you here probably means that you boys didn’t see things as we did…but that’s okay. What we want to offer you is the chance to join with us. There’s not more to it than that. If every ship that come in with the Supervisor delivers a few men then inside of a few months we’ll have everything we need.’

  The leader looked back at each man sitting behind him, seeing their tired eyes and a universal look of hope that was starting to appear. Looking back to Flannery the leader leant forward,

  ‘Everything you need for what?’

  Flannery paused for a moment, letting the opportunity slip deeper into their minds, hoping he already had them hooked. Watching each of them, Flannery went on.

  ‘We want to own this neighbourhood that we’re sitting in and South Boston.’

  The leader tried not to smile. ‘You want to own a fair chunk of this city. How do you hope to achieve this with only a few handful of men?’

  ‘By removing the man that runs this territory.’ With his own smile, Flannery said, ‘We’re not talking about a real estate venture here guys, we’re talking about taking over the rackets. The head of the snake in this territory is a man called Meehan. He’s dangerous, connected but he’s not invulnerable’.

  ‘…and you want to take out Meehan?’

  With a nod, Flannery waited, knowing if it sounded crazy to him it probably sounded even more so to each of these men. Standing, Flannery looked from face to face, saw each of them think it through, as the leader sat back with his own thoughts, ignoring Flannery for a moment.

  With a glance up at Flannery, he asked,

  ‘…and why would we work for you rather than just going straight to Meehan?’

  ‘You could try but I’m not sure he’d listen…on top of that, he doesn’t owe you anything, he’d throw you away just as easily as an empty whisky bottle, then where would you be?’

  Flannery felt a rumble under the balls of his feet, ignoring it, he made his last pitch.

  ‘We’re offering you something more than just being a few hired hands…we’re going to grow. We’re going to do what we set out to do and we need men to be part of it. That’s why this is an offer we’ll make today…tomorrow, things will be different.’ Stepping back, he heard a screech of tires from some place outside the warehouse, putting it out of his mind he waited for some response.

  The leader stood looking into each face, seeing a few slight nods and shakes of their heads, ‘We’ll talk on it’. Flannery grimace, not sure that this would work out. ‘Okay, I’ll take a breath of fresh air, I’ll be back in ten…hopefully you’ll have made the right decision by then. I’ve got to say that their probably aren’t that many attractive alternatives – but it’s up to you…’

  Flannery walked to the warehouse door, feeling again the slight tremors underfoot as he pulled the door open, stepping through he briefly looked back, saw the men and the leader already huddled together, the conversation animated but hushed.

  Turning his face to the outside world, his head snapped up to the blare of powerful white light that smacked into his senses, the rumble of heavy wheels speeding forward making him dive instinctively to the side as the light bared down just a few feet away.

  Flannery dove to escape the lights.

  A moment later as he flew, his head crashed against the corner of the wall stopping his momentum dead.

  Face down on the sidewalk, Flannery raised his head and heard a crash, dazed he watched the truck smashing through into the warehouse. A moment later he was almost out, blood already coursing down from the top of his head, pooling by his slack face on the cool stone sidewalk slab below.

  Beneath fluttering eyes, he fought to stay conscious, failing, the last thing he felt were hands under his shoulders, the scrap of his booted toes scratch along the sidewalk, Meehan’s face looking down at him between clouds of speckled darkness.

  ‘Shit’ he thought before darkness overwhelmed him.

  Chapter 33

  The giant woodpecker pecked, its sharp beak prodding repeatedly into his temple, the noise piercing his personal night time.

  His body claimed possum as his brain fought for daylight, blinking open sticky eyes Flannery came too, feeling the slack open mouthness like too long sleep, expecting to feel drool beneath his cheek.

  Turning his face, he looked down at the drying blood beneath, a cough c
oming up from his stomach to clear the dust from his nostrils and mouth.

  Content to stay still for a second or two, he reached his hand up to brush away the woodpecker, touching the smashed sensitivity of his temple, running it up to the already raised flesh cracked lump at the top of his head.

  Bringing his hand back down to his eyes, Flannery looked at the smear of blood, a thick trail across his palm.

  Flannery brought both hands beneath his chest, leveraging weakened arms to roll over, with a deeply sucked in breath, Flannery pushed himself up to sitting, shaking his head to clear the fragmented vision.

  Focused on breathing, Flannery encouraged lungs that seemed to have forgotten how to move in and out, each breath a tight chested task. A minute or two of the basics and Flannery wanted up, what the hell had happened?

  Looking down at his feet, Flannery spoke to them, willing each to do what it would be asked in a minute or two, just as soon as he was ready.

  Almost making the movements before he had willed the decision, Flannery stood, back creaking as he moved from bent to straight, hands slack at his side.

  Looking around Flannery shook the marbles loose, a quick twist of his head cracking his neck back to comfort.

  The space that previously held the warehouse door gapped at him, the broken fragments of wood lining the opening top bottom and sides, the maw of a giant’s mouth, brown, ragged and rotten teeth smiling back at him, the laughing door’s sarcasm palpable.

  Flannery concentrated a few steps forward until he stood in view of the door’s opening, peering in the first thing Flannery saw was Meehan, sitting comfortably on an upturned barrel, signature cigar being brought to his relax and confident mouth, the smoke being blown out next with relaxed lips.

  The bodies were scattered around Meehan, bloody carcasses with punctured blood seeping drill holes top to bottom, arms and legs twisted loosely where they had fallen, each striving towards the comic, a parody of movement in the horizontal that would only make sense in the vertical.

  Flannery staggered forward, willing himself to move with fluidity but failing, a Frankenstein’s movement as he penetrated the opening, stepping into the massacre.

  One last release of cigar smoke and Meehan looked up at Flannery, relaxed eyes weighing Flannery up as he watched his careful steps into join him.

  ‘It didn’t have to be like this Flannery. I didn’t want to have to do this you know? It’s a waste of talent.’ Meehan said, picking a loose strand of tobacco from between his teeth.

  Flannery took a few more steps towards Meehan but looked around him as he moved, stepping between the bodies, their trickling blood slickly pooling together beneath his slowly moving feet.

  Meehan went on, his voice on reasonable to himself but sounding tin like to Flannery’s ears. ‘But you and O’Keegan didn’t leave me much choice, if it wasn’t some of your boys that got hurt then it would have been some of mine…its all maths.’

  Flannery stopped moving, sure that his end was close, too painful and too tired to put up much of a fight, he could try to take Meehan on but right now there were almost two of them to his eyes. Then his mind focused on Meehan’s words, saw the mistake Meehan was making, the reason for his calm confidence. Tightening slack lips, Flannery willed them towards vows and consonants,

  ‘So that’s why you killed our boys? Knocked out some of our muscle so you could make a deal with me and O’Keegan?’

  Meehan grinned, then sucked in another deep cigar breath. ‘Who said anything about a deal? For a man that just lost half of his crew, half of the men you called brother on your journey to America, you don’t seem too sorry?’ Meehan looked around at the human garbage beneath his feet, careful not to allow the creeping blood to encroach on his polished shoes.

  Flannery saw the mistake, seeing the advantage they had just received through Meehan’s mistake. Careful, he tore his eyes from the dead leader’s body beneath his feet, seeing the dead grin that had smiled over at him only a small time ago.

  ‘You bastard…we would have talked it through with you.’

  Meehan nodded. ‘Yes, you would have talked…but you wouldn’t have listened. I understand you better than you do.’ Gesturing to the bodies around him with his spare hand, ‘…but now you have to listen. I could still send you in a box in pieces back to O’Keegan.’ Taking another suck on his cigar, Meehan smiled at Flannery. ‘But I don’t want all out war, I want you and O’Keegan working for me. I see you’re potential. I need it for my crew. If you bring what’s left of your boys and yourselves over to my side, I’ll make you one of my chiefs…your own slice of Boston…just yours Flannery. As much money, broads and power as you can handle. How does that sound? Isn’t that what this has all been about? Something better than just being another number, just another dumb Mick immigrant?’

  Flannery thought on it, still looking around at the boys the Supervisor had brought him, their open eyes already starting to accuse him despite his lack of agreement.

  ‘…and what about O’Keegan?’ Flannery questioned quietly.

  ‘I probably want him too…but it depends on O’Keegan. If he can take orders, do what I tell him to do, when I tell him then he’s welcome. I already know you can accept being second to someone, you already are with O’Keegan. Deliver him to me and I’ll put my deal to O’Keegan. It will be up to him if he accepts or not…I can’t make him. If he does then he’s ‘in’…if he doesn’t then he’s dead. That the plain fact of fucking life in my part of Boston. How long have you known O’Keegan anyway? What do you owe him? Isn’t it just about the cash, the opportunity? Deliver O’Keegan to me and you and I have a deal…’

  Flannery shoulders sagged, looking out at Meehan beneath his dirty bloody fringe. Mumbling, Flannery whispered back at Meehan.

  ‘I’ll see what I can do…’

  Meehan flashed his teeth at Flannery, no smile.

  ‘Good, then you can live…’ Looking over at the sheeted curtain, Meehan blew a cloud of blue smoke towards the cordoned off section. Stepping from behind, Meehan’s brother walked through into the warehouse proper, a grin poised above the semi-raised shotgun.

  ‘Tony, call Mr Flannery a cab. Here’s a few buck, the rides on me.’

  Five minutes later, Flannery was inside of the hansom, sitting back, thinking through Meehan’s words, his fingers drumming across his knees.

  Chapter 34

  Meehan climbed out of the bath, a smooth, warm, fluffed white towel was dragged off a heated stand within easy reach of his large fingers.

  He rustled it through his rough hair and, glancing at it saw the small blood patches not washed away by the bath’s water, clinging seeping into the white material.

  Still not feeling clean, he held the towel to the middle of his stomach with his left hand while his right wrapped it tightly around before tucking it in.

  He walked around his bedroom, the floor creaking slightly under still wetted feet as he thought through the arrangements he had prepared. Meehan thought through the steps, would this work?

  He needed to be careful, things O’Keegan couldn’t even imagine were in play, the last thing he needed was too much bad press. It would be bad for business, pissing people off that mattered.

  Walking around his bedroom, he heard a scuffle from outside his door, taking his gun off the dresser he waited with a slack hand casually behind his back, waiting.

  Meehan’s door was pushed violently opened, crashing against the side wall. Meehan tightened his gun grip, his other hand hold his towel tightly closed.

  The bundle of small arms and legs was thrown through, his golden daughter in a crisp cotton nightshirt followed, shouting ‘Daddieee’ as she rushed to Meehan, scooping up her white and brown teddy before jumping up and down saying ‘up, up, up’ over and over, insisting that Meehan hold her in his arms.

  Gun still hidden behind, he released some of his finger pressure, lowering himself down to the ground to place his other arm around his daughter’s legs, tightening a
s he stood, holding her face up to his cheek, loving the warm smooth feeling of her face against his.

  ‘Daddie, are you going out tonight?’ She looked at him with reproachful eyes.

  ‘Yes honey, Daddy needs to work tonight, but Mommy is going to stay home with you and I’ll be back soon…and when I do, I’ll come give you kisses Okay?’

  She nodded, golden hair framing her smiling face.

  ‘Okay Daddy, don’t forget and give teddy kisses too Daddy…otherwise he will be sad okay?’

  Her face crinkled, looking down as if she were already crying. Ruffling her curls, Meehan bent down to kiss his daughter on the top of her head, smiling to himself as he realised she still had that baby smell despite being a few years old.

  She really was his treasure.

  With a happy sigh, Meehan’s attention focused on his wife as she followed his daughter through to their bedroom, dressed for entertaining but without anyone to entertain.

  ‘You’re going out again. When will you be back?’ She stood, hands on hips, an adult sized image of his daughter, it was impossible to be angry with her.

  ‘Not long’.

  He crouched, lower his daughter back to the ground, she took his face in her hands, before touching the towel Meehan still held around his waist.

  ‘Daddie, did you fall over? You have blood’, her fingers brushing across the blood spots freckling the towel. Meehan looked at his daughter’s concerned face, knowing his wife was staring at the top of his head as he focused into his daughter’s deep blue circular eyes.

  ‘Yes honey, Daddy fell over. Daddy needs to be more careful…and you be careful too okay, you try not to fall over. It hurts.’

  Raising his head, he glanced up at his wife, noticing the tightness around her mouth but consciously ignoring her look. Placing his hand back on his daughter’s head, he turned her towards her Mother, pushing her forward before giving her a slight tap on her backside.