Saving Room for Dessert

by K. C. Constantine

  “Tell him stay back!”

  “I’m askin’ you to stay back, sir. I’m asking both of you to stay back, awright?” Rayford had stopped about four paces equidistant from them. The light was fading. He guessed it would be dark in another thirty, thirty-five minutes. He glanced at his watch and saw that it was 1910 hours. So maybe he didn’t have as much daylight left as he thought. Need to get these two off the street and inside their houses soon. Don’t wanna still be out here after it gets dark. The dark would trigger the streetlight on the corner shortly, but even after that happened the two large maple trees in front of the Buczyks’ house would cast the sidewalk in shadow where the two neighbors were facing each other.

  “So, Mr. Hornyak, you wanna tell me what this is about?”

  “He’s an asshole, that’s what.”

  “Any particular reason?”

  “You want a reason? You were here two weeks ago—what, you forgot that already?”

  “I didn’t forget, sir. Just want you to explain to me, in detail if you would please, what’s got you upset now?”

  “I came outta my house, he was out here, I’m tryin’ to mind my own business, I’m not sayin’ nothin’, right away he starts in—”

  “I didn’t start nothin’, that’s bullshit and you know it—”

  “Whoa, Mr. Buczyk, you’ll get your chance—”

  “Yeah shut the fuck up!”

  “Pete, please don’t, okay?” came his wife’s voice from their front porch. Behind her, a dog began scratching the inside of their storm door.

  “Oh what, you gonna take his side again, what kinda shit is that, huh?”

  “Whoa, Mr. Hornyak, lower your voice, sir.”

  “Don’t tell me how to talk. If you knew what the fuck you were doin’, he’d still be in jail. Why’s he out anyway? You told me aggravated assault was a felony, fuck’s he doin’ out, huh? If that’s a felony?”

  “Hasn’t been tried yet, sir. As I understand it, he’s out on property bond, right, Mr. Buczyk?”

  “Don’t try explainin’ anything to him, he doesn’t understand bail, he doesn’t wanna learn anything, thinks he was born knowin’ everything—”

  “Oh me, I’m the know-it-all, huh? Yeah, you, you go to the library, right, read up on this stuff? Is that what you’re sayin’ now? In a pig’s ass, that’s where you go to do your readin’, don’t give me that shit I don’t wanna learn nothin’, there ain’t nobody on this planet with a harder fuckin’ head than a Polak—”

  “Watch it, Pete, don’t start with that Polak stuff, huh?”

  “Hey! My old man told me forty years ago, forty years ago he said—you listenin’, huh? Forty years ago what he said about Polaks, he’s still right! You fuckin’ Polaks, you got the hardest fuckin’ heads in the world. I argued with him, you hear me? Hear what I just said? I argued with my father about you. I said, nah, not my friend Joe, uh-uh, he’s not like the rest of them, pure fuckin’ concrete between their ears—”

  “Oh I’m sure that’s what you said—”

  “Hey I’m tellin’ you, you fucker you. I argued with my father for you. Got smacked in the face for it, that’s what I got, defendin’ you, you sonofabitch—”

  “Easy, Pete, go easy, man, I’m tellin’ ya—”

  “Yeah yeah, that’s what you said when I told you don’t cut that tree down. Your exact words, I remember, go easy, man, don’t worry, we ain’t gonna take the whole tree down, just those branches up over our gutters, that’s what you said.”

  “And that’s all I did—”

  “Bullshit that’s all you did! You took every fuckin’ branch off on your side of the tree. I told you just take the top ones off, but no, nothin’ doin’, not you, you gotta strip the whole fuckin’ tree—”

  “How many times I gotta tell ya it wasn’t me? The kid was up the tree with his saw before I even knew they were here. I was in the cellar, I didn’t hear the guy knockin’—”

  “So the guy starts cuttin’ before he even talks to you? You hear this shit? You see what I’m dealin’ with here?”

  “Lower your voice, Mr. Hornyak, I have no trouble hearin’, sir.”

  “Well listen to what he’s sayin’. What bullshit. No tree guy works that way, what’re you talkin’ about? Guy gets outta the truck starts cuttin’ without talkin’ it over first? Without seein’ what you want cut, what you don’t want cut? Don’t give me that bullshit—”

  “That was four years ago for Christ sake!”

  “Aw fuck you, four years ago, what’s that have to do with anything? Who cares how long ago it was? Look at the tree, look what the fuck you did to it. And don’t try to give me that shit again about the kid goin’ up there without tellin’ you what he was gonna do, that’s bullshit.”

  “See what I mean? He don’t wanna listen to anything.”

  “Besides which, it still don’t make any difference with your gutters. Still gotta go up there and clean ’em. Or pay somebody.”

  “And you still think those leaves didn’t have anything to do with causin’ that water to get up there under the shingles and freeze—”

  “Aw here we go again with the ice under the shingles—”

  “Why don’t you wanna listen about the ice under the shingles? You never wanna listen about the ice under the shingles—”

  “What’re we gonna do now, go back to who’s supposed to pay for your new roof now, is that it? I ain’t payin’ for your fuckin’ roof, I don’t give a shit what your roofer said, I don’t give a shit what your lawyer said—”

  “In the first place I never ast you to pay for the whole roof. I ast you to pay for about six square feet of shingles, that’s all—and I didn’t even ast you to pay for the labor, I had that covered—”

  “’Cause what you were sayin’ was makin’ no sense. It was like I got up on the top of that tree and purposely poured them needles and branches into your gutter. That was an act of God for Christ sake, why the fuck should I pay for that? I didn’t do it. You think I tell the wind which way to blow?”

  “You planted that tree—”

  “Oh here we go. I planted the tree. And how the fuck did I know it was on your property? If you can remember anything, you fuckin’ cement-head, can you remember we didn’t have the lots surveyed? Huh? You remember how we used to talk? You were the one said friends don’t needa get their lots surveyed, that was for assholes didn’t know how to get along with one another—”

  “Mr. Hornyak, you wanna talk about now? Tonight? Why you two are standin’ here screamin’ at each other?”

  “Hey, cop, why you think there’s all these Polak jokes, huh? You think there ain’t a reason for them? Everybody knows, everybody got these fuckers pegged, you think we don’t? Whole world knows what fuckin’ morons they are—”

  “So what you’re sayin’, sir, is you’re havin’ a disagreement over intellectual capacity, is that it?”

  “Oh that’s a good one, cop. That’s a real good one. Go ’head, bust my balls for me. He ain’t enough aggravation for me, you gotta show up with your wise fuckin’ mouth and your big lips—”

  “Mr. Hornyak, sir, you’re real close to ethnic intimidation and harassment, sir. I’m warning you, please go inside your house—”

  “Oh and what about him, huh? What, you two gonna have a little chat out here, huh? What the fuck, I might as well get you two a coupla lawn chairs and a six-pack? Pound of kolbassi maybe and, uh, and, uh, my little kettle grill, huh? Some black Russian rye, some horseradish, some Dijon mustard, huh, whattaya say? Oh I forgot, Mr. Physical Fitness over there, you don’t eat kolbassi no more, huh?”

  “Pete, c’mon, please, c’mon in, okay?” While Mary Hornyak was pleading with her husband, one of her dogs was scratching and whining by her leg. “Stop it! Get in the kitchen! Go ’way!”

  “No I ain’t comin’ in,” Hornyak said. “Surprised you ain’t out here comparin’ calorie charts with Arnold Schwarzenefsky over there—”

  Oh-oh, there it
is, Rayford thought. I don’t get these people cooled out, there’s goin’ be blood on the sidewalk again, got-damn. Where the fuck is James? How long’s it take to get a juvey into detention? And where the fucks Booboo?

  “Why don’t you listen to Mary and go inside?”

  “Hey don’t you worry about Mary, huh? You let me worry about Mary, okay? You wanna count calories with somebody, Schwarzenefsky, go count calories with Susie, don’t be tellin’ me about Mary—”

  “Maybe you oughta go inside take a look at yourself in a mirror before you go callin’ names ’cause people wanna take care of themselves.

  “Take care of themselves? Is that what you said? Is that what you and my wife are doin’—takin’ care of yourself? That’s what you call it now, huh? Takin’ care of yourself?! No shit. Maybe you oughta start takin’ care of yourself with your own wife—”

  “What’re you sayin’, huh? You sayin’ there’s somethin’ goin’ on between Mary and me, is that what you’re sayin’?”

  Oh-oh. Reseta, man, come on! Where the fuck are you? Damn! This shit goin’ get ugly any second here.

  “Hey that’s ’Mrs. Hornyak’ to you, no Mary, I don’t wanna hear no Mary shit comin’ from you, and don’t you pretend like you don’t know what I’m talkin’ about, don’t be insultin’ my intelligence. Your head might be made of cement, but mine ain’t.”

  “Go inside, Mr. Buczyk—”

  “No no, wait, I wanna hear this. You got somethin’ to say, say it out, don’t be hintin’ and insinuatin’ ’n’at, just spit it out—”

  “Hey, everybody ain’t as blind as you think. People got eyes, you know? Got ears too.”

  “What people? C’mon, who? Name one!”

  “Mr. Hornyak, Mr. Buczyk, that’s enough. Go home, please. I’m askin’ you both, go inside your houses now. And stay there—”

  “Pete, come on in, please? Good God, don’t do this, please?” Mary Hornyak swatted at the dog. “Told you to get outta here!”

  “Why you askin’ me? Why don’t you ask him, huh? That’s who you really wanna come in there. Think I don’t know that? Think I’m stupid? Blind? Deaf? Think I don’t have any friends? Think my friends are all deaf and blind too? They’re all stupid?”

  “Oh Gawd, Pete, Jesus, stop it!”

  “Stop what? What should I stop? I didn’t start nothin’, I ain’t stoppin’ nothin’. Anybody oughta be stoppin’ anything around here, it’s you and him! Think I don’t know what’s goin’ on, huh?”

  “Oh God, Pete, Jesus, how can you say that? We’re not doin’ anything!” Mary said.

  “Easy, that’s how I can say it. Easy! ’Cause that’s what I’m hearin’.”

  “Who you hearin’ it from? You ain’t hearin’ it from nobody, you’re makin’ this up!” Buczyk said.

  “Makin’ it up?! I’m makin’ it up?! Is ’at what you think? Everybody, that’s who I’m hearin’ it from. Everybody!”

  “Everybody? Everybody who? You ain’t playin’ softball this year, we had sign-ups last week, you weren’t there. You didn’t sign up with anybody, and you didn’t bowl last year either. Asked everybody if they saw you, nobody saw ya once in Rocksburg Bowl—”

  “You think that’s the only place in this town to go bowlin’? Think the only people I know are people you know? Guys play soft-ball? Guys you bowl with?”

  “You don’t go to the Legion anymore, you haven’t been down there since two New Years ago—”

  “I know plenty of people, I don’t have to go to the Legion—”

  “Where? That’s what I’m askin’. Mary says you don’t leave the house—”

  “Again with Mary. Shut up about Mary I told ya!”

  “Says all you do anymore is drink beer and watch TV—”

  “Like it’s any of your business what I do in my house. Except you want it to be your house, right? You think I’m just gonna move out so you can move right in, right? That’s what you want, ain’t it? Right? Well fuck you! I ain’t movin’ outta anywhere. You two wanna take care of yourselves you’re gonna have to do it in your house. And what’s Susie gonna say about that, huh? Bet she has some choice words to say about that, huh? Susie? ’Member her?”

  “Pete! Stop it! For God’s sake stop it!”

  Just then Rayford saw the light bar reflecting off the Hornyaks’ windows before the MU turned the corner onto Jefferson. He was hoping it was Reseta, but when the door opened and that mass lumbered out he knew it wasn’t. And even though daylight hadn’t faded enough to trigger the streetlights, Rayford could see from the way Canoza’s shirt fit across his shoulders that he wasn’t wearing his vest.

  Well at least neither of these guys has shown a weapon yet, and maybe seein’ Canoza might make them think about him instead of each other. But Canoza was backin’ me up two weeks ago, and that didn’t stop Buczyk from lungin’ at Hornyak, catchin’ him flush with that straight right. Course maybe he thought he’d just get one in and Canoza would stop it before Hornyak could get back up and throw some of his own. Hard to say. Let’s hope the motherfucker remembers how it felt with Canoza kneelin’ on his back pushin’ his face into the sidewalk so I could cuff him. And if he doesn’t remember that, maybe he’ll remember how good it felt to post his house for the bond, just for the pleasure of that one punch. Motherfucker better remember somethin’ bad about that, ’cause Hornyak is lookin’ way too wild. Got-damn, James, where the fuck you at, man? She-it, now who the fuck is that hangin’ back there? Between the houses?

  HEY! WHAT’RE you doin’ here?” Rayford shouted at the face he saw peeking at him from between the houses. “Watch them,” he said to Canoza as he skipped and sidled quickly around the Buczyks’ Plymouth minivan.

  “Go home!” Rayford shouted. He shone his MagLite on the face, and his jaw clamped. Got-damn you people. “This is none of your business. You don’t go home now, you will go to Mental Health tonight, you understand me?”

  “According to the prophecy, the coloreds—”

  “No more prophecy crap! Go home!”

  “Hey, tuzone, you don’t tell us where we can be.”

  Aw shit, her too, got-damn! He turned the flash on her. “Mrs. Scavelli, I’m orderin’ you and your husband to leave this scene now!”

  “Scene? What scene? What’s he talkin’ about, scene?”

  “Don’t pay no attention to him, we ain’t doin’ nothin’, we’re just watchin’, he can’t tell us what to do.”

  Rayford strode quickly across the sidewalk and onto the grass separating the two houses. Nick Scavelli was to his left, Rose Scavelli to his right. Shadow cast by the Buczyk house made it seem almost night between the houses. They put up their hands and turned away as he aimed his flash first at him, then at her.

  “Quit shinin’ that thing on me!” Rose Scavelli said.

  “I had enough problems with you already tonight to last me the rest of my life. I’m orderin’ you to go home! Now! Or you’re both under arrest!”

  He turned over his right shoulder and called out to Canoza, “Get Reseta, tell him get here now.”

  “What for? We can handle this.”

  “Already had grief with these people today, shouldn’t be here.”

  “Then send ’em home, I got these two covered, no sweat.”

  “Call Reseta I’m tellin’ ya.”

  “Hoo-ha-ha, see? Not even other cops listen to you, tuzone,” Rose Scavelli said.

  “I know what that means, lady, stop callin’ me that.”

  “You don’t know nothin’, all you know how to do is pull your gun,” she said. “Wave it around in peoples face, show off how you got a gun. Woo-woo, big deal.”

  “Turn around and go home now!”

  “Stop shinin’ that thing on me, I can’t see.”

  “Go home, you can see all you want.”

  Rayford heard somebody coming, and turned to see Canoza walking fast toward him.

  “Boo, what’re you doin’ here, get back out front.”

  “
Hey, Scavellis, shuddup the both of ya, and get outta here before I take youns down the river and drown ya both—”

  “Boo? Reseta here? Who’s watchin’ them?”

  “Forget about them, they ain’t doin’ nothin’.”

  “Aw man, Boo,” Rayford said under his breath, scurrying back to the front of the houses in time to see Hornyak pulling back his right leg and aiming a kick at Buczyk, who’d moved to where he could see what was happening with the Scavellis.

  “Freeze!” Rayford shouted.

  Too late. Bucyzk howled as the kick landed somewhere on his right leg—Rayford couldn’t see exactly where. He just saw Buczyk buckle to the right. Hornyak kicked him again in the other leg, and Buczyk, howling and cursing, sank to his hands and knees, his eyes pinched shut.

  Rayford’s options buzzed through his mind. He jumped over Buczyk and swung his MagLite with both hands at Hornyak’s chest, catching him in the left shoulder as Hornyak was ducking away to the right. Now Hornyak was howling and cursing.

  “Freeze!” Rayford shouted again. Buczyk was now on his back, knees up, rubbing the backs of his thighs, rolling from hip to hip.

  Hornyak was bending up and down from the waist, holding his left shoulder. “Sonofabitch! You broke my collarbone!”

  “Goin’ break the other one you don’t back up and get on the ground! Get down now!”

  “Mary? Maaaaaa-ry? Call an ambulance! Goddammit, Mary, you hear me?”

  Rayford could hear other voices, shouting, snapping, and snarling at one another. He knew who it was but he wouldn’t take his eyes off Hornyak and Buczyk to see what was happening with Canoza and the Scavellis. He kept glancing back and forth between Buczyk, still rolling on his back on the sidewalk, and Hornyak, who was still holding his left shoulder, still bending up and down from the waist, and now shuffling gingerly around in half-circles. Rayford stepped quickly back out into the street to keep both Buczyk and Hornyak in sight while staying three or four steps from both.

  “Broke my fuckin’ shoulder, you bastard—”

  “Get down! Get down now!” Rayford shouted. He wound up as though ready to swing the MagLite again. Hornyak sidled back a couple of steps but remained standing. With his left hand Rayford aimed the flash at Hornyak’s eyes and drew his pistol with his right.